They lay together in Aoi's bed, tangled in sheets that smelled like sweat and sex and something faintly floral from her perfume. The afternoon light had shifted to early evening now, casting long shadows across the room.
The torn canvases and spilled paint were still scattered around them, but somehow it felt less oppressive now… Less like a disaster and more like something they could clean up together.
Aoi was curled against his side, her head resting on his chest, one leg hooked over his thigh. Her breathing had evened out, but he could tell she wasn't asleep yet. Her fingers were still trauing absent patterns on his stomach.
"Akira," she said quietly after a long stretch of silence.
"Mm?"
"I saw something. I can't remember it exactly, but it's something in my memory." Her voice was careful, like she was trying to remember something half-forgotten. "I don't know if its real or my imagination playing tricks on me."
He stilled. "What did you see?"
