The Passion of A Heart || Ryomen Sukuna

1 - A last beat

I was an ordinary girl. I had finished my studies, I was studying at an art school where I didn't even like it and I was working in a café on the side to be able to live in a small apartment that I could barely pay for with my paycheck.

My life was... boring. According to my psychiatrist, I was depressed and insomniac. I was allowed a ton of medication daily just because of that, even though I honestly didn't care.

I didn't even know why I continued to live. I should have died a long time ago, but I survived. Why in the end ? To live this unpleasant and meaningless life.

I was sure I was painting masterpieces. Far be it from me to be arrogant, but what I was doing was beautiful. I was complimented on the fact that my paintings could easily go to a museum, but my teacher told me that was not what he was looking for in art and that I would never get far with it.

I kept going, I didn't like it but I didn't care. I was always allowed to get bad grades. Maybe my teacher was a horrible shit, or maybe he honestly thought I shouldn't continue with this kind of painting.

Maybe no one was looking for that anymore.

They were paintings like any other in themselves. Portraits, what I saw, what came from my imagination, with enough to make everything beautiful, enough to amaze the people who looked at my works.

It was my passion, maybe even a gift because I was always naturally gifted at painting and drawing.

It was all I had.

— What about a date this evening ? Yato asked me, smiling.

— You could be a little more gallant in your request. I sighed calmly. You know I don't like dates, on top of that.

— Call it what you want, it doesn't have to be a date but just a meeting between friends.

— Say that from the start then...

I had a friend, Yato. We spent time together, he was sociable and almost friends with everyone in the university. Besides that, he was handsome. I couldn't lie about that, everyone said it and it wasn't for nothing.

He was in the same class as me, naturally, we got closer during a project we had to do together. Since then, we went out together from time to time on Friday evenings.

A restaurant, a cinema, a simple walk by the lake... As long as we spent time together, we were fine with it. Yato called them dates, I called them simple outings with a friend.

It didn't matter what it was, as long as it could get me out of my studies and hours spent locked in my room doing nothing.

— You know, your last work was incredible. Yato complimented me with a smile on his face. You didn't deserve the eight that Mr. Isama gave you.

— He gave me an eight, I already find that admirable. I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders. Usually I get a six and he tells me I didn't deserve it.

— think you should report him, you know ? It's not normal for him to give you these kinds of notes.

— I don't want to dwell on that.

Yato was willing to support me, like others, if I ended up going to the principal to report our teacher. Many thought his grades were unfair, but I didn't care, I was already looking for a job to quit art school anyway.

Maybe Isama's notes made me lose the desire to paint, which was understandable in the end.

But I didn't want to fight for it. I just didn't have the energy.