After filling Kuroha Akira in on Aizono Moe's emotional landmines, Shirai Shiori continued speaking her mind.
"Akira-kun, I think you already know this, but Moe Moe is different from me. She has incredible talent—she just has no idea she has talent. She's always undervalued herself, always lacked confidence."
"Well…"
In Kuroha Akira's assessment, the Literature Club trio consisted of two B-ranks and one A-rank. All of them were genius girls with talent in their respective fields.
But from their own perspectives?
Neither Asato Hitomi nor Shirai Shiori considered themselves geniuses. Only Aizono Moe's talent was highly correlated with what she was actually doing, and the proficiency bonus she got was the biggest of all.
Even though both Asato Hitomi and Shirai Shiori wanted to perform better in front of Kuroha Akira to prove their worth, they both agreed that Aizono Moe's talent shone the brightest.
Shirai Shiori took Kuroha Akira's right hand in both of hers and pleaded earnestly.
"Honestly, it's because I've had Moe Moe by my side—infected by her never-fading enthusiasm—that I've been able to keep writing. So I'm hoping, Akira-kun, that you can help her regain her confidence. Make her proud of her talent and her hobbies again."
"You're really treating me like some kind of motivational guru… I won't say I can definitely do it, but I'll do my best to encourage her."
"Mm! I'm counting on you!"
Listening to Kuroha Akira's words, a wave of relief washed over Shirai Shiori's heart. Truth be told, she'd now become just as convinced of him as Asato Hitomi was. She genuinely believed that if she left it to him, everything would work out.
After she let go of Kuroha Akira's right hand, Asato Hitomi—not to be outdone—grabbed his hands in a similarly competitive manner.
What she said was pure formalities.
"Moe Moe is an indispensable member of our Literature Club. So now, as club president, I hereby entrust you, Akira-kun, with the sacred mission of bringing her back."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah…"
It wasn't that Kuroha Akira meant to be dismissive. It was just that they were being so serious about this—like some kind of send-off ceremony—that it was getting a little hard for him to keep a straight face.
What if Aizono Moe doesn't come back?
If he failed the mission and made Aizono Moe cry, her two best friends would probably launch a joint manhunt against him…
Now the pressure was on.
And so, carrying the high hopes of both girls on his shoulders, Kuroha Akira was escorted out of the Literature Club activity room.
Alright then. Time to find Aizono Moe. I'll check near the restrooms first…
But after only two steps, he spotted Aizono Moe peeking out from around the stairwell, waving at him with small, quick gestures.
"Kuroha-kun… over here…!"
It was an extremely quiet call—like she was afraid of disturbing something—carrying a cautious, almost secretive vibe.
Only after Kuroha Akira walked over did she, with a slightly nervous expression, cover her mouth with her sleeve and ask,
"Um, Kuroha-kun… uh… I, I'll buy you a drink?"
Kuroha Akira immediately put his hands together and gave her a small bow, showing his utmost respect.
"Thank you for your generosity, Aizono-san."
Free food or drink? Kuroha Akira would never refuse. Those who treat are good people in his book.
"N-no need to thank me… Actually, I want to thank Kuroha-kun. Thank you for understanding what I was trying to say earlier…"
"It was actually pretty easy to understand. You meant 'meet me at the restroom,' right?"
"Not specifically the restroom… I, I've never been in a boys' restroom, and Kuroha-kun can't exactly walk into the girls' restroom, so I just wanted to call you outside. And I also didn't want Hitomi-chan and Shiori to find out… so it might have been a little abstract… Ah haha…"
Aizono Moe let out a dry, awkward laugh.
Too bad. They totally found out.
And they even told me all your triggers.
Poor Moe Moe… her deepest secrets have been completely seen through by her best friends…
Of course, Kuroha Akira wasn't about to mention any of that. He just went along with it.
"So, Moe-chan, you wanted to tell me something. Something you couldn't tell the Class Rep or Shiori."
"Mm… Actually, I didn't really want to tell Kuroha-kun either… But if I didn't say it, I'd feel like I was tricking you… So I still wanted to tell you in person."
"Alright. I'm all ears."
If he hadn't gotten that inside info from the other two, Kuroha Akira would've reflexively said, "Can it really be that serious?" But now he understood—for Aizono Moe, this was an act comparable to mustering the courage to confess to someone she liked.
They arrived at the familiar vending machine outside the teaching building. Aizono Moe bought a bottle of orange soda and handed it to Kuroha Akira. Then she asked,
"Kuroha-kun… in your eyes, what color is this bottle of orange soda?"
"Orange."
"Yes… But to me, it looks closer to yellow. Even a little greenish. And also a bit dark…"
"Just as I thought…"
Kuroha Akira, who had already guessed this outcome, showed no surprise.
"Moe-chan… you have color weakness, don't you."
Aizono Moe admitted it with a bitter smile.
"Yes… I'm sorry, Kuroha-kun, for keeping it from you all this time…"
This wasn't color blindness exactly, but a visual impairment called color weakness.
Think of the eyeball like a camera. Light hits the cornea, passes through the lens, and projects onto the retina. The retina then sends those nerve signals to the brain, and boom—you see stuff.
The photoreceptor cells in the retina's central area handle color vision. For people born with funky photoreceptor cells, the colors they see can be wildly different from what everyone else sees.
In reality, everyone's color perception has slight individual differences. But for some people, those differences are huge. Aizono Moe belongs to that special group.
Her color discrimination isn't "a little off"—it's way off. That's why she's desperate to hide this weakness.
Because for an artist, not being able to distinguish colors is basically a fatal debuff.
If you can't trust the colors you see, you start doubting whether the world you see is the "real world" at all. Never being certain, always self-doubting—that's why she became so unconfident, so prone to blindly following others.
This is the root of her inferiority complex.
"I don't want Hitomi-chan and Shiori to worry about me… that's why I never told them. I don't want to receive special treatment anymore…"
Kuroha Akira understood her feelings. He'd received special treatment from Kobayakawa-sensei when he first transmigrated—though he just found it annoying, while Aizono Moe felt guilty.
Because they're such close friends, she didn't want to owe any more favors. She didn't want to always be the one getting taken care of. She wanted to stand shoulder to shoulder with them, on equal footing.
Kuroha Akira pinched his chin, dredging up some obscure knowledge he'd read before.
"But I recall that mild color weakness doesn't have a huge impact on daily life, right? You can still get a driver's license normally."
"Yeah, it doesn't affect everyday stuff much… but… um… it really affects painting. The doctor said it's only a 'slight difference,' but I have no idea where that 'slight difference' even is…"
Every morning after waking up, pulling back the curtains, and looking at the sky outside her window, Aizono Moe can't help but wonder.
Is today's sky… actually blue?
She's never sure.
"I'm sorry… I'm really sorry… I should have told you from the very beginning… It's just…"
It's just because…
She was invited.
She was valued.
She was praised.
So… she got carried away.
And in the end, it was all just an illusion before the bubble burst.
"I got too ahead of myself…"
"Even though I can't distinguish colors properly, I still brazenly accepted your invitation…"
"But I'm not the illustrator Kuroha-kun expected me to be…"
She sinks deeper into self-deprecation, like an invisible weight pulling her down. Her head lowers, her shoulders slump, carrying a sorrow no one else can truly understand.
Her hair falls gently, covering part of her face—looking so desolate in the light and shadow, yet possessing a uniquely melancholic beauty.
"Please… replace me… with someone el— Ugh, oh?!"
Not letting her spiral any further, Kuroha Akira roughly pinches Aizono Moe's plump, round cheeks with two fingers, turning her words into a weird squeak. He forcefully makes her look up and meet his gaze.
"Not a chance."
Kuroha Akira's mouth curls upward into that signature smug grin—the one that says the game is already over.
"My dear Aizono, my lovely Moe-chan. Have you forgotten? You already agreed to be my exclusive illustrator."
"Ugh… b-but…!"
"No 'buts.' You've already signed the contract—in spirit, if not on paper. You really think I'm just gonna let you walk away?"
Don't even think about escaping my grasp.
I'm keeping you.