I, who advocate giving up, feel like a disqualified person

He used his hands as a frame to cut off the building that looked to have been dyed orange.

It seems that just by doing this, I will have the desire to paint.

Being able to reproduce what I see... no, being able to more or less present those favorite scenes on paper through my own hands is a very happy thing.

However, it seems that not many people are willing to agree.

As for drawing, sketches just need to resemble the real thing, with strong contrasts between light and dark. Colors just need to be varied enough to catch the judges' attention. Sketches don't need to worry about proportions; just add more black and white.

Everything is based on being able to stand out from the crowd. Being noticed by the examiners is equivalent to getting a lot of points, even if the painting is not good.

"what..."

I, who don't like sighing, actually began to sigh uncontrollably. My hands gradually dropped, and the scenery remained the same as before.

Is this really a painting... She has wondered this more than once.

"...Is he gone already..."

I had wanted to look for him before, but judging from the current time, it seems there is no need to do so... I had wanted to ask something, but I'd better leave it until tomorrow.

But can I really have a good conversation with him...The inexplicable sense of distance that I had felt before seems to be gradually becoming real.

Although it was just my guess, I felt that those people's departure was related to him. But I had no idea how he did it... At least before, he would never do anything that I couldn't figure out.

"...What should I do..."

Chapter 16: Anger

My peripheral vision caught a glimpse of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the building, and it was then that I realized how long this meaningless conversation had lasted.

"Forget it, it's getting late. I have something else to do, so I'll take my leave now."

"Eh? Wait..."

Seeing that I wanted to leave, he seemed to stop me and say something else.

"Do you understand what I just said?"

"Oh, you mean those things... Of course I understand," I responded impatiently. "If there's anything I don't understand, it's probably... Are you the only one who thinks this way, or do everyone else think the same way?"

"...Well, I'm the only one telling you this, but most people feel the same way."

"Oh, now that I think about it, I have some questions." He rubbed his chin, figuring he wouldn't waste much time. "How much time do you spend on painting?"

"Eh?...It's been about five or six years...What happened?"

"Are you practicing hard? Non-stop."

"Well...if you want to say hard work, there are still some rest times, but most of the time is still practice, so it can barely be considered hard work."

"So...how many people know the time you've put in? If I don't ask, and you don't mention it to me." After a slight pause, "To be honest, do you think your level is proportional to the effort you put in?"

"..."

"Are you trying to convince yourself that you have no talent at all? Ah, are you thinking that because you've put in more time than the average person, you should be better than everyone else... No way, you haven't put in that much, have you?"

"...What do you mean by that..."

"It's nothing. I just think it's a bit silly to use time to measure how much effort you've put in... Besides, what you want is for a group of people who haven't put in any effort to stand on the same platform as you. That's simply impossible."

"But..."

"You're just trying to say that this is all her fault, isn't it? Because some people question their own talents because of her talent, some people become lazy because of her ease, and some people realize their own ordinariness because of her extraordinaryness. And because of this, her existence is wrong? What a joke."

“…”

"She's just an ordinary girl who likes to paint. Anyway, do you really understand what she's thinking when she paints?"

Actually, I don’t understand either.

Why did she appear alone in the back mountain where no one passed by when I met her for the first time; why were the walls of her house covered with graffiti of varying degrees; why did she get up early alone to draw the buildings she cared about even though we were traveling together?

But now I seem to understand a little bit.

"It's completely different from you guys who just want to get into university easily. She truly loves it and paints what she likes with her own hands."

“…”

"If you think you're weak, why do you get angry at others? It's obviously because you haven't worked hard enough, right? You should be angry at yourself, right? Why should you slack off just because others slack off? Study hard. Is it really easy for others? If you don't have talent, just give up. Isn't it just a waste of time to cling to something you don't like? Does the excellence of others have anything to do with whether you put in the effort? There are so many people in the world who are better than you. Shouldn't they exist?"

"......"

"Oh, I see." Actually, I'd known this a long time ago. It was exhausting to perform with him. "Or, are you just trying to create an illusion... that if she doesn't exist, you'll become stronger? You've said all this to hide the fact that even though you're ranked second, there's actually an insurmountable gap between you and her..."

"shut up!"

"Oh, is this how you react after being criticized? You clearly wanted to take personal revenge, but ended up saying all these grandiose things. If you have this kind of skills, can't you just paint more? You're the perpetually second-best student who doesn't work hard."

The sound of wind.

With both hands, he tightly grasped my collar.

"You're angry... Why are you angry? Is it because your delicate self-esteem has been subtly pricked?"

"...You clearly don't understand me, yet you speak so easily."

"Because it's easy to just state the facts." I paused. "She didn't deny your efforts, but you denied them yourself. But you used it in the wrong place... You could just be a fool who only knew how to paint, but you always wanted to be the best. It shows that being too vain is not a good thing."

"...I told you to shut up..."

"Come to think of it, Ye Hui is an art student. So what if she quits? When you meet in the exam hall, you will still be inferior to her... Well, you are worse than her anyway. Being able to see the gap between you and her every day like now is the best for you, right? Or, since you are always second, it doesn't matter where you go..."

"Have you said enough?"

Having said so much, this guy is really patient... However, he finally achieved his goal.

"That's enough..."

As he swung his fist in anger, I fell to the ground, looking at the sky that was gradually getting darker.

That's it, the action just now has been recorded.

.............

"Yo."

After walking on the street for a while, Ye Hui caught a glimpse of a familiar figure from the corner of his eye. He thought he was seeing things, but the person greeted him warmly.

"...Have you been waiting here for me?"

"Ah."

As he spoke, he handed over a cup of milk tea with his left hand. Of course, at this time, his right hand was holding a half-finished cup of coffee.

"...Um, you don't need to use your brain anymore?"

Ye Hui obviously noticed this.

"Well... I don't need to worry anymore." He scratched his hair, "I can finally live a little more easily... I've figured out what I need to understand."

"...That's right. Even though he hardly looks at the blackboard during class, he still manages to answer the questions."

"I still look at it occasionally." After saying that, he seemed to realize something, "But Yehui, how did you know that I hardly ever look at the blackboard?"

"Uh... because every time I find time to visit you, you're always looking out the window." She paused for a moment, "Come to think of it, I'm a little curious what you're looking at."

"I wasn't looking at anything... I was just daydreaming."

"Yes, in my impression, Sheji, you often seem to be in a daze. Not only that, you often sigh, and your eyes often look lifeless."

"...Is it really like this..."

"But Sheji has really changed a lot recently... well, he only sighs occasionally, but he seems very energetic. He used to be lazy, but now he has taken the initiative to become the vice-class monitor. He runs around the classroom and office all day, and he is very nice to his classmates. He has become more friendly and cheerful. He feels like... more like a normal high school student."

"Isn't this great? I think it's time to say goodbye to my past self."

He was still walking at a normal pace and didn't notice that Ye Hui was gradually stopping.

"..."

"What's wrong?" He turned around after noticing Ye Hui stopped. "...What happened?"

"No. I just have something I want to ask...that's all."

Ye Hui lowered his head, and it was impossible to see his expression at this moment.

"what is the problem."

Sheji, realizing something, did not move forward, but kept a distance from her that was neither too short nor too long.

"Xiao Lin... Did classmate Lin Chenru tell you about me?"

"...yes."

Although hesitant, he admitted it. Or rather, there was no other choice but to admit it.

"What is your attitude towards this matter?"

"...I'm not really sure." He touched his breasts, "but the most common feeling is probably... anger."

This hasn't changed.

Even the original him would have felt the same way.

动摇

I don't know exactly when it started.

There's so much I want to understand about myself in my memories. And precisely because of this, there's even more I don't understand. But some things can't be perceived unless you encounter them...as a poet once said.

"I could tolerate darkness if I had never seen the sun"

However, the world is not like this.

Most people bathe in sunlight, but that doesn't mean they can't tolerate darkness. More precisely, it's the people who can't perceive darkness, who can't believe it exists in the world.

What you can't see doesn't mean it doesn't exist... but people tend to distrust what they can't see. Even if they can accept it, they often try to excuse themselves by saying it's just fiction. Perhaps they do this simply to evade inexplicable responsibility.

Do people have to help each other?

If there is no need, why talk about evading responsibility?

"Ah... trouble."

It seemed like this was the first time I had said such a complaint.

In my memory, I have washed my hands many times.

I washed my hands over and over again with soap, many times. Even though there was no dirt left, I still kept washing my hands stubbornly.

That feeling seemed to remain in my hands forever, and I couldn't get rid of it no matter what.

No one has ever given me any responsibility. But why should I even think about doing something?... The consequences of my own decisions have made me so sad.

"It was struggling..."

When faced with a force you can't resist, that force becomes incredibly apparent. But if I don't do that, it won't even have a chance to struggle. But what difference does it make...it still can't escape.

Troublesome things, very troublesome things...

"Hey, did I do something wrong..."

Facing the young face in the mirror, I asked my own questions. As you can imagine, no one gave me an answer.

Until now, I still don’t know whether what I did was the most wrong or not...I clearly wanted to give up what I should give up since then.

I thought the emotions I'd felt for others would never reappear. But now, they're happening to me...

What was the initial idea...

"what...."

I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but I think I've almost forgotten everything. It's not because of a hazy memory, but rather because of a wavering belief... simply because of the person before me.

"Are you angry? Because of me..."

Why would the girl in front of me, the victim, question something so obvious? Getting angry about something like this...wouldn't the result be the same for everyone?

"That's natural, right? That's not reasonable... Ye Hui, you didn't do anything wrong, why should you be treated like that? Unreasonable things shouldn't exist... This is obvious. Even if it happened to someone else, I would still be angry if I knew about it... Even if I told others, anyone in our classroom..."

Having said that, I couldn't help but stop.