The Art of Undressing

It starts, like most disasters at the studio, with Suzu screaming:

"NUDE SKETCH-OFF! NOW! NO EXCUSES! WINNER GETS THE SACRED APRON!"

Everyone looks up.

Yuuto drops a tray of questionable egg tarts.

Kaito slowly lowers his pencil.

Rei nearly inhales her charcoal stick.

Nocturne? Calmly sips tea.

"…What's the sacred apron?" Rei asks.

"It's embroidered with golden nipples," Suzu beams. "Also it's emotionally symbolic and smells like lavender failure."

"…Ah," Rei nods. "Essential."

THE RULES (as written by Suzu in glitter pen):

Pick your muse.

One hour.

Must be fully nude. Emotionally and physically.

Judges: Haruka, Yuuto, and a plant named Fernando.

Crying is allowed. But only tasteful crying.

No tracing. No shame. No regrets.

Rei stares across the room.

Kaito's eyes meet hers.

He glances toward Nocturne.

Rei looks down.

Suzu throws a poncho at her. "Your choice of muse will decide your artistic destiny and probably your love life, so choose wisely."

15 Minutes Later…

Kaito chooses Nocturne.

Rei chooses herself.

Yuuto chooses a watermelon (don't ask).

Suzu sketches herself sketching herself sketching someone else.

Everyone strips.

Except Haruka, who wasn't competing but somehow ends up semi-nude, wrapped in a velvet curtain, holding a peach, whispering,

"Am I the muse now?"

Yes, Haruka. You are.

Rei's Self-Portrait

She stands in front of a mirror.Eyes steady. Shoulders drawn but lifted.

She sketches the things she hates first—Sharp elbows. Awkward knees. The scar on her hip from falling off a bike in middle school.

Then, slowly, she moves to the parts she's never really looked at:The curve beneath her collarbone.The softness around her stomach.The way her hands tremble when she wants to be brave.

She stops mid-stroke and whispers to herself:

"I am allowed to be the subject of my own gaze."

And for the first time ever…She believes it.

Kaito's Portrait of Nocturne

It's quiet between them.

Nocturne sits cross-legged, back straight, palms resting on thighs.

The sunlight hits their skin in soft patches through the skylight.They look unguarded. Maybe even a little… happy.

Kaito sketches with a kind of reverence.

Not just the angles, but the weight of them.

The tension in their spine where history lives.The slight curve of their lip when they feel safe.The way their eyes ask questions even when they say nothing at all.

He draws not just what he sees—but what he's come to know.

And at the last moment, he adds a single word beneath the sketch:

"Here."

Because that's what Nocturne is now.

Here.

With him.

Judging Time:

Yuuto wins "Most Unhinged" for his seductive watermelon.

Haruka wins "Most Accidental Eroticism."

Rei gets a standing ovation from Suzu for "Best Emotional Self-Reckoning."

Kaito wins "Most Devastatingly Tender Nude Ever Rendered in Pencil."

And Fernando the plant leans slightly toward Kaito's drawing.

Suzu gasps. "FERNANDO HAS SPOKEN!"

Kaito is declared winner.

He's handed the Sacred Apron of Artistic Vulnerability.

It's covered in sequins and embroidered with two very tasteful golden nipples.

He accepts it like a knight receiving a sword.

Nocturne? They just smile.

Soft.

Knowing.

Maybe a little proud.

Later That Night…

Rei lingers by the sink, washing brushes too aggressively.

Kaito approaches.

Neither of them speaks for a long time.

Then:

"You looked powerful up there," Kaito says. "Like… you took up space. On purpose."

Rei nods. "It felt good. Scary. But good. Like screaming into the void and having it whisper back, 'slay.'"

Kaito laughs. "You were brave."

"So were you," she says.

They both go quiet again.

Then she whispers:

"You still like them, don't you?"

Kaito doesn't lie.

"Yeah."

"Do they know?"

"…Maybe."

"Are you gonna do something about it?"

"…Maybe."

"Are you always this emotionally useless?"

"Consistently."

They both laugh.

It hurts. But it heals.

Like aloe on a burn.

Even Later That Night…

Kaito finds Nocturne on the rooftop. Barefoot. In their robe. Gazing at the stars like they owe them money.

"Did you win the sacred apron?" they ask without looking.

Kaito sits beside them. Nods.

They hum.

"Does it feel like closure or foreshadowing?"

"Both."

The night is cool.

The silence between them isn't awkward anymore.It's full. Like a blank canvas.

Then, slowly…Nocturne extends their hand.

Kaito takes it.

No big declaration. No breathless confessions.

Just warmth.

Steady.

Present.

Real.

"Do you think it's possible," Nocturne murmurs, "to be seen and still be loved?"

Kaito squeezes their hand.

"You're proof that it is."

They smile.

And somewhere below, Fernando the plant begins to bloom.

Probably from artistic secondhand tension.

But maybe from love.

End of Chapter 14