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“Fukami-sama?”
Yuu looked at him in confusion.
The more he looked at her, the more he couldn’t get rid of that image in his mind.
One of Yuu dressed in a pristine white dress and a laurel wreath in her head, the very picture of purity.
The pencil fell out of his hand at the thought.
The young girl picked up the pencil, looking worried as she handed it over.
“It’s nothing…” He went back to sketching some more, only to tear the page out in frustration.
“Are you feeling alright?” Yuu glanced at him with worry.
“I’m fine…”