Fifth Mix: Quiet nights

Miru followed Yamada inside, tracing her every step. The steps were cold, almost like a block of ice in the dead of night. The red sign overhead disappeared as he took a step inside the cozy studio. It had the same scent from the time before—a sweet floral wrapped round him. He sat down on the fluffy couch and looked at Yamada.

She hung his coat on an idle double peg and sat back down at the head of the table.

"I'll be on air, so don't laugh. I mean it, Miru-san..." Yamada shifted in the seat as she cast her gaze downward.

This was the first time he'd seen her work, so he chalked it up to the stress of having someone nearby. He looked at her, breathing into his hands from the chill outside.

"You really didn't have to invite me in. If you're working, I can just—"

"You don't have to go just for my sake. Plus... I-it's cold outside, so I don't want you getting ill because of me," Yamada said as she pointed to the coffee machine in front of her.

...great.

As soon as she said that, Miru shrugged. He reached out for a nearby mug.

"If you insist."

The next second, Miru walked over to the coffee machine, turning it on. The quiet hum of the water pouring and the smell of coffee swarmed him. He had always liked this smell, but sharing it with another made it even better, or so he thought. The flicker from the lights overhead shone down onto the table, lighting it up in a washed-out yellow.

Then, he noticed Yamada flick a button from under the desk. A moment later, the sound of a countdown rang out—its voice robotic in nature.

[3...2...1]

"Hey everyone, I'm back! Did you miss me? Haha... Well, anyway, where were we?"Yamada said, smiling.

She tapped a pile of loose paper on the table, getting them all in line. Despite being an avid listener, he was surprised by the mic's clarity. Her soothing tone bounced around the room, encompassing it all.

"So this is what they call 'A master at their craft'?" Miru whispered to himself—impressed.

It wasn't every day you got to see someone with so much talent do something they love, so he took the chance to take in the view. It was almost like Yamada had had a facelift done and been swapped out, or, to put it simply, he noticed how different she was. Her tired face was swapped for a beaming smile, and her downcast gaze was now widened and full of life.

She really works hard, doesn't she? The way she can flip a switch and just change... It's almost like she's a whole other person. Miru let his thoughts trail on as Yamada continued:

"Where was I? Oh yeah, thanks, Nakonaoya-san. I try... haha. Maybe one day, I'll be a voice actor or in the daytime slots. I hope you'll tune in then as well!" Yamada joked, laughing to herself once more.

Even though she played it off as a joke, Miru noticed a hint of truth behind her words. She wore a half-smile and tried to play it off. After all, the girl in front of him always aimed high, so hearing her try to joke about it rubbed him the wrong way.

Yamada?  Miru noted, sipping his first bit of coffee. It was rich, almost bitter—It's safe to say it was definitely right to say it was an acquired taste. The taste of bitter coffee welled on his tongue, and indescribable empathy welled in his heart; It looked almost like he was looking at the opposite version of himself. 

Which in itself felt like a weird phenomenon.

Miru walked and sat back down on the couch with the cup half full. Yamada's long lashes fluttered as she talked with a smile. He had always admired people who put their passion into something.

As he was gazing at Yamada, Miru smiled as he took another sip of the coffee —black. The carpet beneath his feet felt rugged and well-worn. It was a washed-out grey and matched the shirt he was wearing.

He wished to watch her hone her craft all day, but sadly, he couldn't. From his bag, he pulled out a well-worn laptop and opened the lid, placing it firmly atop his lap.

"Guess I should do some work too," Miru said quietly to himself.

On the screen, an ominous white light lit up his peripheral vision, blinding him slightly. It wasn't every day he used light mode, but he hoped it would help him stay awake a tad longer, so he bore the burning sensation in his retina. It was said that about 35% of pc user use light mode, a number he didn't necessarily care about, yet felt somebody out there would surely understand his pain.

Putting that aside, he took another look inside the bag and pulled out his trusty drawing tablet. He always wanted to be an animator, so late-night practice often became the norm for him and his peers.

It was around this time that he'd work on it—his animation. It was something simple, but if he wanted a shot at animating for one of the greats one day, he'd have to start small, so he prepped his pen and got to work. He gazed upward, noticing the way Yamada's eyes changed when she spoke. He drew a circle, messy and mismatched. If you compared the two, you wouldn't be able to tell he was gazing at Yamada.

He would always use references for bodies, opting to draw over Anime characters with shapes to feel the form, but this time was different.

He drew the sketch, the 2d Yamada

Meanwhile...

"So that's all for tonight. I hope you join me again soon!" Yamada laughed as Miru was lost in his drawing.

A second later, she pressed the button and ended the show. A loud sound rang out throughout the studio as she leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms upward.

"..."

As soon as Miru heard it, he jolted upright, and there knelt Yamada, gazing at his screen.

"Is that supposed to be me?" Yamada asked and tilted her head inquisitively.

His hair stood on end as he quickly rushed to hide the screen with his hands. His face turned red as he quickly blurted out the first thing that ran through his mind.

"I-it's not what it looks like, really. I was just searching for tutorials and uh—"

"No way you can draw? Wish I could do that," Yamada said as she sat down next to him.

What.

The dead of night that had been washed out a minute before turned vibrant. The coffee mug he held in his hand felt a bit lighter. Looking past her, he noticed the washed-out overhead lights were swapped with neon yellow and the rugged carpet felt soft beneath his feet. The whole room turned rich with colour.

He blinked a few times to make sure he heard her.

"You really think so?" Miru asked as he gazed at her with starry eyes.

"Mhm-hm. Every time I draw it just comes out in a bunch of chicken scratches, kinda sad if you ask me..." Yamada said as she looked at him with her head in her hands. "You even got my pores. Any other time, I would be pissed, but the level of detail is insane, I mean, it looks just like me."

Then she turned to him and smirked:

"I guess that's what you get when you're always looking at me, though, huh?"

She held the tablet up in the air and stared at it with her eyes wide. Miru opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. He was always working hard in the shadows, so the praise she gave him left a fuzzy feeling in his heart.

No one's ever said such nice things about my art before... And coming from someone who tries so hard? Am I allowed to be this grateful? As his thoughts raced on, he desperately searched for an answer to give her.

"That's... probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me. Thanks, Yamada-san. " As he said that, he gazed upward and put a finger to his lip. "And I guess I do look at you quite a lot. I mean, I admire you." Miru said, smiling back at her.

The neon studio lights flickered and reflected off the tablet in front of Yamada, catching a faint tint in her blue hair and lighting up her face. The low hum from them set a pace in a rhythmic tune, getting dragged along by the two's conversation.

As he gazed at her, Yamada's smug face shifted as she looked the other way, seemingly trying to break free from their entangled gaze.

"Stupid smooth talker, how is a girl meant to respond to that? Read the room, will you?" Yamada huffed under her breath, hiding a fleeting smile behind her hair.

Miru blinked not once, but twice. As he sat there in confusion at her change in tune, he formed his own conclusion and scratched his cheek as he looked the other way.

"O-oh, I didn't notice how forward that sounded. Don't worry, I didn't mean it like that; I just meant your work ethic, right? Yeah, that's it... work ethic!" There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, but he masked it with his waving hands.

At the same time, Yamada wiped a tear from her eye.

"pffpt, 'how forward that sounded' You're speaking like you're an old man or something. " Then she looked back at him with her hazelnut-smoked eyes. She tilted her head slightly as her blue hair gently fell to the side. 

"If you want... and you don't have to, but what do you say about making this place a place where we can focus on what we want in life?" Yamada asked, a hint of hesitation in her tone.  

"I could use a place like this if I'm honest; the cold gets to me too much sometimes. " Miru laughed.

She looked at him with a solemn expression, clearly waiting for an answer. 

A second later, he answered.

"Yeah, of course...Yama-I mean, Suki-san."