Canvas of Silent Colors

Breakfast this morning felt quieter than yesterday. We sat around the table, eating omelettes with pickles, grilled fish and some rice. Without Misaki-senpai's chaotic shenanigans and Jin-senpai's constant attemps to rein her in which always failed, everything felt... almost serene.

We chatted casually while eating. Sorata-senpai asked where I moved from, Nanami-senpai added a few polite questions about how the dorm so far, and Mashiro-senpai interjected sometime if Sorata-senpai or Nanami-senpai called her. At some point, Sorata-senpai glanced at me with curiosity.

"By the way, Ren." he said, pointing with his chopsticks. "Yesterday when you came in, I saw you carrying a pretty big bag on your shoulder. Was that a keyboard?"

I nodded. "Yes, It's my MIDI keyboard for music production."

Nanami-senpai tilted her head slightly, brows drawing together, in thought. "Oh yeah, yesterday you also mentioned music production... But what about your illustration? I thought you focused on that."

I shook my head. "I don't really focus on one thing. More like... a jack of all trades. Illustration, animation, pixel art, background art, music, sound and video editing... anything that's needed, I adapt."

Mashiro-senpai tilted her head slightly, her fork still paused halfway to her mouth. "It's like Sorata," she said softly, her voice almost blending with the quiet clatter of the dining table.

Sorata-senpai, caught off guard mid-bite, let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, I guess that's true," he admitted, scratching his cheek. "Since I want to be a game developer, I have to learn everything. Last night I even practiced drawing. Just simple stuff, but… one stone, two birds, right? I could help Mashiro and practice too."

Nanami-senpai's brows knitted, her eyes gentle yet worried. She leaned forward little closer to Sorata, "But not at the cost of your sleeping time, You're pushing yourself too much, Sorata... please don't burn yourself out."

Her tone was worried but gentle, affectionate. She tried to hide it behind a sigh, but it was obvious to me. The way her voice trembled at the end gave her away completely.

I chuckled softly, turning back to Mashiro-senpai, the corner of my mouth lifting in a small grin. "Maybe... we have some similarities there, senpai."

Mashiro-senpai blinked once, as if processing my words.

Before she could reply, my eyes flicked to the doorway, catching sight of Chihiro-sensei stepping in, her slippers sliding lazily across the floor, still half-asleep with her hair in a mess, and clothes that making me a little awkward.

I straightened my posture and dipped my head politely toward Mashiro-senpai. "Sorry, Mashiro-senpai. Let's talk later." I gave her a small smile, trying to keep it respectful and light, then stood up from the table.

Sorata-senpai and Nanami-senpai looked up at me, noticing my sudden movement. Their conversation paused as their eyes followed my gaze to Chihiro-sensei, who was yawning and stretching by the common room entrance.

I slipped past them quietly, heading to the kitchen counter to prepare a breakfast portion for Chihiro-sensei. 

"Good morning, Chihiro-sensei," Nanami-senpai greeted reflexively, her voice polite but a little stiff.

"Morning," Sorata-senpai added, almost out of habit.

"Good morning," Mashiro-senpai murmured softly, barely lifting her gaze as she continued eating.

I was still focused on heating up the breakfast portion, checking the pan and adjusting the flame, so I didn't see what they were reacting to at first. But then the sudden quietness at the table made me pause. I finally turned and followed their eyes.

Chihiro-sensei stood at the kitchen entrance, yawning and stretching in a loose T-shirt that barely covered her thighs. Her hair was messy and her eyes half-open with sleep. Nanami-senpai's face turned pink as she looked away quickly. Sorata-senpai let out a small sigh, rubbing his temple.

"Sensei, can you at least wear proper clothes before coming out…?" he said, his tone tired but polite. There wasn't any embarrassment in his voice—just pure exasperation, like this had happened too many times to count.

"Hah? It's just you guys," Chihiro-sensei yawned, waving her hand dismissively as she sat down.

"…It's okay," I said, my voice coming out louder than I intended. I kept my tone polite and neutral, though I could feel an awkward heat rising to my face. It wasn't exactly embarrassment—more like… discomfort. But I tried not to let it show too much.

In the middle of her yawning and stretching, I carefully placed the plate I'd prepared in front of her.

"Here's your breakfast, Chihiro-sensei."

She blinked down at the steaming food before glancing up at me, her lips curling into a sly smile.

"Oh? Wow, we got ourselves a new member, and you're this diligent already," she drawled teasingly. "You can cook too? Are you planning to become the unofficial dorm assistant like Sorata?"

"H-Hey, don't just decide that yourself," Sorata-senpai interjected quickly, frowning. "Ren's still new here."

I dipped my head slightly, my eyes calm. "Sorata-senpai looked tired… so I just wanted to help."

Chihiro-sensei let out a sleepy chuckle, looking at Sorata-senpai and Nanami-senpai with a smirk. "Well, aren't you two lucky? Getting such a polite kouhai this year."

Nanami-senpai glanced at me, her expression softening as she nodded slightly. "Yeah… he's really considerate."

Sorata-senpai rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes flicking in my direction. "Seriously… Ren, you're way too mature for your age."

I smiled politely and sat back down at the table, picking up my chopsticks to continue eating. There was a faint softness in my eyes and in my tone as I murmured quietly, almost to myself,

"My mother… she thought like that too. But… maybe it's just my uniqueness."

Nanami-senpai blinked, watching me with gentle curiosity. "You really value your family, huh?"

I nodded once. "Yes."

Mashiro-senpai remained quiet the entire time, her gaze fixed on me with her usual blank expression. But when I happened to meet her eyes, I paused for a moment.

In those deep, glass-like eyes, I saw—

Confusion… and blankness.

She just continued staring silently as I looked away, returning to my breakfast without another word.

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The table fell into a peaceful quiet as everyone focused on their food again. The sound of chopsticks against bowls and the ticking clock filled the room with a comfortable stillness.

Then, in the middle of that silence, Chihiro-sensei stood up and shuffled toward the refrigerator, yawning. "Alright, time to grab a beer—"

"No, sensei!" Sorata-senpai and Nanami-senpai protested in unison, their voices firm.

"It's still breakfast!" Sorata-senpai added, his exasperation clear.

"Ehh, stingy kids…" Chihiro-sensei pouted, closing the fridge door reluctantly before returning to her meal with a sigh.

Breakfast didn't last much longer after that. Everyone quietly finished their meal, the clinking of chopsticks and ceramic filling the gentle morning silence.

When we were done, Sorata-senpai stretched his arms and stood up. "Alright… time to get back to work. There's still stuff to take care of in Sakurasou. You can leave the cleaning to us, Ren."

Nanami-senpai nodded, starting to gather some empty bowls. "Yes, you've helped a lot already, especially this morning."

I blinked, looking at them, glancing at the plates on the table. "But… I can at least help with the dishes."

Sorata-senpai shook his head with a small smile. "It's okay. Really. You've done enough."

Nanami-senpai gave me a gentle look, and I could tell both of them wanted me to just accept it. Slowly, I nodded. "Alright… thank you."

I stood up and quietly went to the kitchen to wash my hands. The faint scent of omelettes still lingered in the air as I dried them with a towel. When I turned back, I noticed Chihiro-sensei was lounging on the sofa, half-lying down as she flicked through TV channels.

I took a breath, stepping closer. "Chihiro-sensei," I called out softly.

She turned her head lazily toward me, eyes half-open. "Hmm? What is it?"

"May I have your time for a moment?"

She shifted, giving me a slightly more focused look. "Sure… what's up?"

I straightened my back politely. "I just wanted to ask, sensei… how does Sakurasou operate on a daily basis? Like… when do we clean the dorm together? Are there specific rules for each season? Also… about late nights – does the gate get locked at a certain time? If we need to leave for personal reasons, what permission do we need to get from you?"

She raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "Oh? Doing your homework already, huh?" She stretched her arms above her head before speaking in her usual bored tone. "Well… the cleaning schedule is simple. We do a big cleaning session of the entire dorm every Sunday morning. Usually, everyone takes a part – bathrooms, halls, kitchen, living room. But basic cleaning, like washing your own dishes and keeping your room neat, is your own responsibility."

I nodded, listening intently as I sat down on the sofa's edge.

She continued, "As for seasonal stuff, in winter we check the gas heaters, and in summer we clean the AC filters. That's done by whoever's free. There aren't any strict rules, but if you notice something broken or dirty, fix it or tell Sorata or me."

I raised my hand slightly. "What about the gates… are they locked at night?"

"Ah, yeah." She waved a hand lazily. "Dorm gates are locked at 11 PM. If you need to go out late for a special reason, just tell me. Especially for you art kids – if you have competition prep or internships, bring proof or a note from your supervisor or teacher so I can report it to the school office. Otherwise, you'll get flagged for curfew violation."

"I see…" I murmured. That made sense, considering Suimei was an arts-focused institution. Students often had external exhibitions, filming, or recording sessions.

Chihiro-sensei scratched her cheek absentmindedly. "For cooking, it's mostly up to whoever's on the roster. These days, Sorata does most of it since Misaki and Jin are off living at their college apartments near Suimei University. Nanami helps too, but… well, she's not exactly good at cooking, so she mostly does prep work or cleaning."

I nodded, mentally taking note. So Sorata-senpai carries a lot here too.

Chihiro-sensei flicked her gaze to me with mild interest. "You're pretty serious for a high school boy. Especially for a new student… most of them just wing it when they come here. Honestly, it's rare for anyone to ask this kind of thing on their first day. Usually they're too busy being scared of Sakurasou's reputation."

I lowered my gaze politely. "No, sensei… I just don't want to be a burden here."

She chuckled, eyes narrowing with amusement as she leaned back lazily. "Heh… do as you like. You're still better than some of the past residents. Back when Misaki and Jin first moved in… well, Misaki was a complete menace – running around everywhere, dragging art supplies across the hall at midnight. And Jin… that playboy used to sneak girls in sometimes, though he always got caught."

She gave a small sigh, lips curling with a nostalgic smirk. "Compared to them, you're practically an angel."

"Thank you," I said, bowing slightly.

I hesitated for a moment, then gathered the courage to ask again. "…Sensei, may I ask… what about during summer vacation or long breaks? Does the dorm close?"

She yawned, leaning back on the sofa. "Nah, Sakurasou stays open during summer vacation. Most dorms close or reduce staff during long breaks, but this place… well, it's basically self-run. Students with special projects or internships usually stay.

"I see…" I replied softly. I felt a bit relieved knowing the rules were practical.

"One more thing," I continued. "About my uniform, courses, and textbooks for first year… I haven't received much information yet."

"Ah, that." She rubbed her temple lightly, looking a little more awake. "For Suimei High, uniforms are usually bought before the entrance ceremony in April. Your parents should have received the ordering packet already. Summer uniforms are short-sleeved with thinner fabric, but you'll get both sets. As for textbooks, you buy them at the school bookstore during the first week. Homeroom teachers will tell you exactly what to get."

She fixed her gaze on me more directly. "Have you at least bought your uniform yet?"

"Yes… it's arriving tomorrow," I answered softly.

"Good. Classes are divided by period – usually six periods a day, each fifty minutes, with lunch break in between. First years follow a set curriculum with general education and art prep courses, depending on your department track. Your homeroom teacher will go over your schedule during orientation day."

I quickly memorized everything, feeling a mix of relief and tension settle in my stomach.

Chihiro-sensei let out another yawn, leaning back again. "Anything else?"

I shook my head lightly. "No, sensei. Thank you very much for explaining."

"Heh. You're welcome." She closed her eyes, seemingly dozing off right there on the couch.

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I turned away quietly, my mind replaying her words. Cooking rosters, cleaning rotations… dorm chores felt like a small community in themselves. But what stuck out was how casually she mentioned everyone's responsibility here. Even if it was Sakurasou, infamous for its eccentrics – in the end, it was just a place where people lived together. It needed someone to keep it alive.

Then I remembered something from yesterday's welcoming party. Offhand, Sorata-senpai had mentioned cleaning out the warehouse. It was dusty and filled with old art supplies, broken easels, and random junk that needed to be sorted out. Some might be sold to second-hand stores if still usable.

I glanced back at Chihiro-sensei, who was now breathing softly, eyes shut.

"Sensei… sorry," I said gently.

She cracked one eye open. "Hm?"

"May I help Sorata-senpai clean the warehouse? I remember he mentioned it yesterday."

Her eyebrow rose lazily. "Really, kid? Sure, go ahead… you're free to do whatever you want. Honestly, you're such an anomaly – way too mature and polite for your age." She smirked, letting her eye close again. "Go on."

"Thank you, sensei."

I bowed slightly and headed out, my footsteps quiet against the wooden dorm floor. Climbing to the fourth floor, I soon heard the rhythmic scrape of a duster against wood. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams slipping through the high windows.

When I reached the warehouse door, I saw Sorata-senpai inside, sleeves rolled up, sweat dampening his bangs. He was holding a cleaning duster in one hand and a bucket filled with murky water sat by his feet.

Typical dusty storage room, I thought, inhaling the faint scent of old wood, mildew, and leftover paint that clung to the air.

"Sorata-senpai," I called softly as I stepped into the warehouse.

"Whoa–" Sorata-senpai jerked up from where he'd been wiping down a shelf, nearly hitting his head on the low beam above. "Ren? What are you doing here?"

I dipped my head politely. "I asked Chihiro-sensei for permission to help you."

For a moment, he just stared at me. Then he let out a loud, genuine laugh, echoing through the dusty room. "Haha… seriously, you really are weird, Ren."

I smiled faintly at his words, not offended in the slightest. "What should I help with first, senpai?"

Sorata-senpai wiped the sweat off his chin with his forearm, grinning at me with tired relief. "Honestly? Some of these boxes and broken easels need to be carried down to the backyard for sorting later. I was planning to do it myself, but man… climbing up and down four floors nonstop is killing my legs."

"I can do that," I replied softly, stepping further in. I glanced around at the half-cleaned shelves and cluttered boxes. "Also, where do you keep the extra cleaning supplies? I might need some to help you finish cleaning here."

Sorata-senpai blinked, then laughed again, this time more subdued and grateful. "Right… I was about to go grab more myself. They're in the first-floor storage closet by the laundry machines. There should be rags, disinfectant spray, and another broom. Bring up what you can."

"Understood."

I turned and made my way down the stairs quietly. The dorm halls felt calm in the late morning light, filled with the faint scent of floor polish and warm breeze drifting from open windows. When I returned with the supplies, Sorata-senpai was wiping sweat off his neck, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

We worked together in near silence, the only sounds the scrape of broom bristles against wood, the rustling of cardboard, and quiet thuds as I carried down broken frames and useless junk to the backyard. The air slowly cleared as dust settled into our damp rags, and bright beams of sunlight lit up newly emptied corners, making the warehouse feel less like a forgotten storage room and more like part of the dorm again.

Some old sketchbooks and half-used canvases were placed neatly back onto shelves, saved for possible reuse. Others, too warped by moisture or age, were stacked near the door to be disposed of later.

Hours passed with quiet diligence. Sweat dampened my hairline, sticking to my temples, while Sorata-senpai's T-shirt clung to his back. Yet despite the heavy scent of old paint, mildew, and sweat, the room felt lighter, as if Sakurasou itself was sighing in relief at the small care given to it today.

When lunchtime rolled around, Sorata-senpai and I were still organizing the last shelf near the window, wiping down the grime that clung stubbornly to the wood.

"Oi, you two."

We both turned at the familiar voice. Chihiro-sensei stood at the doorway, wearing her teacher attire – a light blouse tucked into a knee-length skirt, cardigan draped loosely over her shoulders, and her hair pinned up haphazardly. In her hands were two neatly wrapped bento boxes and two bottles of lemon ice.

Behind her stood Mashiro-senpai, holding another lunch bag, a soap, two clean bowls, and a jug of fresh water with her usual blank expression.

"Here," Chihiro-sensei said, placing everything down with a clatter. "Lunch. Lemon ice. You both look like you're about to collapse."

Sorata's face lit up at the sight of Mashiro-senpai. "Mashiro… you're here too."

He moved forward instinctively, arms slightly outstretched as if to hug her, but then paused, glancing at his dirt-covered shirt and dusty hands with a sheepish grin. Before he could say anything, Mashiro-senpai simply stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, pressing a light kiss to his cheek without hesitation.

Sorata-senpai blinked, then chuckled softly, his grin widening despite his flushed face. "Geez… Mashiro, you'll get dirty."

Mashiro-senpai simply stared up at him with her blank red eyes. "It's fine."

Chihiro-sensei smirked at the scene, shaking her head teasingly. "Honestly… you two."

I stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a polite smile,

Sorata-senpai turned to Mashiro-senpai, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… what were you doing before coming here?"

"Manga," she replied in her soft monotone. "And I tried painting again."

"I see." Sorata-senpai's voice softened, tinged with relief.

Chihiro-sensei then continued, flicking her gaze to me with mild curiosity. "Anyway," she said, handing the second bento to me, "I've already made lunch for everyone – Nanami and Ryuunosuke."

"Where is Nanami-senpai now?" I asked politely.

Chihiro-sensei shrugged lightly, adjusting her cardigan. "She's over at Suimei University right now. There's a recording session for the voice acting group she joined. That girl's really pushing herself hard."

Sorata-senpai blinked, eyes wide with relief as he opened his bento to reveal perfectly arranged side dishes and steaming rice. "Chihiro-sensei… you actually made lunch today?"

She raised an eyebrow lazily. "What's with that tone? I can cook, you know."

"I know you can cook," Sorata-senpai mumbled under his breath, unable to hide his smile. "It's just… rare."

I bowed deeply as I accepted my portion. "Thank you very much, sensei."

Her gaze lingered on me, noting the lack of surprise in my tone. "Huh. You're not shocked like Sorata."

I looked down at the meal, then back at her calmly. "Dorm supervisors need certain qualifications to be assigned here, especially for a place like Sakurasou. Cooking and basic domestic management are expected… at least, that's what I've read."

For a moment, Chihiro-sensei froze, her eyes narrowing with subtle amusement and a hint of admiration. Then she let out a small huff of laughter, smirking. "Heh… you really are something, Natsuki."

She checked her wristwatch absentmindedly, sighing. "Anyway, I need to go. Don't burn down the dorm while I'm gone."

With that, she turned on her heel, heels clicking against the wooden floor as she left the storage room, leaving only the faint scent of floral soap and teacher perfume behind her.

"Well, let's eat here, shall we?" Sorata-senpai said, lowering himself to sit on the freshly cleaned wooden floor with a tired sigh.

I nodded, settling down beside him as Mashiro-senpai quietly sat down too, placing her bento in her lap without a word. The faint scent of lemon ice, soap, and warm rice mingled with the crisp spring air drifting through the slightly open window, carrying hints of blooming sakura outside.

For a moment, the three of us simply sat there, the soft breeze rustling the plastic covers and unused old art supplies stacked by the wall. Sunlight filtered gently through the window, illuminating Mashiro-senpai's pale hair and Sorata's worn but content expression.

I glanced at both of them, and ask"…Sorata-senpai. Mashiro-senpai. If it's okay to ask…"

They turned their eyes to me, Mashiro-senpai tilting her head slightly in that blank, doll-like way.

"How did the two of you meet for the first time?"

The question lingered in the quiet air, unanswered, as the scent of spring drifted around us.