Like a Dream || borusara

1.

~ my mind turns your life into folklore. ~
~ I can't dare to dream about you anymore. ~

*****

She dragged her pencil across the page in short, purposeful strokes. Her hand hesitated and her lips pursed as she mentally debated adding more shading to the pronounced muscles of her character and his clothing.

"Have a good night!"

Torn from her concentration, Sarada glanced up from her sketch pad at the sound of a friendly voice. She was met with a wave from the older woman who cleans the library as she walked toward the door.

"You too!" she called back with a smile before her dark gaze flickered toward the time on her phone. It was much later in her shift than she even realized.

Sarada worked at the reception desk at the university's library, which was open at all hours. Though no other students were really around (and little work to be done), the overnight shift was considered the least desirable, therefore the hourly wage was bumped up. Not that Sarada really needed the incentive, she didn't sleep much at night anyway.

She had always struggled with insomnia as a kid, but it only got harder when she went to university. Sleeping just felt like such a waste of time.

She had so much to do.

In high school, Sarada was often praised for her talent in art, but in university, surrounded by other art majors – and often other people more gifted and creative than her – she suddenly felt the overwhelming pressure to make up the difference. With art, practice was the key to improvement, so Sarada found herself staying up late into the night filling pads with anatomy sketches and working on developing her personal style.

Signing up for the overnight shift at the library was a no-brainer because now she was getting paid to obsessively draw all night. And if inspiration ever dulled, she would scour the empty aisles of shelves for a book that might spark some new ideas.

Looking down at her current sketch, she might actually be due for a fresh muse.

Sarada stood up from her chair and rolled her neck a few times to work out the soreness that came with hunching over her sketch pad for so long. Tired eyes scanned the empty library as she sipped her long-forgotten cold brew coffee. It was quiet as ever, but then again it was usually like this during the night shift.

She stretched her arms overhead, allowing a yawn to escape her lips, before picking up the book beside her sketch pad. Her recent Greek mythology phase was beginning to wane, but she had found some great ideas from reading the epic stories, so Sarada decided to venture over to the section of the library that included myths, legends, and folklore from various cultures.

Her long raven ponytail swayed back and forth as she sauntered past the empty aisles. Her footsteps and the low hum of the building's heater were the only sounds to be heard. It was the start of the semester, so not even the night owls were stressed enough to be cramming at the library yet.

She returned her book to the shelf before her dark gaze scanned over the spines of the surrounding books, waiting for a topic to pique her interest. She raised an intrigued eyebrow at a title boasting its tales of Japanese folklore.

Sarada pulled the book from the shelf and opened it to a random page. She flipped through the glossy text until her eyes were caught on a full-page illustration of a mythical beast.