That said, Kuroha Akira had to admit—Aizono Moe's little cheeks were surprisingly fun to squish.
Maybe it was because of her naturally rounder face, but the soft flesh of her cheeks had just the right amount of plumpness. Pressing them with his fingers gave a delightfully squishy, bouncy sensation.
And the moment he pinched, her lips would pucker up like a goldfish—opening and closing in that adorable, wordless way. It was honestly pretty entertaining.
Kuroha Akira gave her a few more experimental pinches before finally letting go, leaving behind faint red marks where his fingers had pressed.
Aizono Moe raised both hands to touch her cheeks. The sensation of being squeezed still lingered in her facial muscles.
She remembered how Shirai Shiori used to pinch her cheeks and pull them sideways when she got angry. But Shiori's strength was too gentle—it never hurt at all.
This time was different. She hadn't even been pinched properly, just pressed on both cheeks by Kuroha Akira, and she could already feel a dull ache.
Kuroha-kun's grip is so strong… Is this what boys' strength feels like…?
Suddenly, her mind flashed to a scene from a shoujo manga she'd read once: the assertive male lead corners the timid female lead against a wall. The female lead, thinking she's about to get kissed, nervously closes her eyes—only to have her cheek pinched instead. She opens her eyes to see the male lead's mischievous smile, and her face burns bright red with embarrassment.
Kuroha Akira currently wore that exact kind of charming, slightly wicked grin.
Just thinking about it made Aizono Moe feel suddenly shy. Even after the pressure marks faded, her cheeks stayed flushed, the blush slowly spreading, radiating an air of shy awkwardness.
To cover her embarrassment, she hid her face with her hands and stammered,
"Um… I know that telling Kuroha-kun now about my color weakness sounds like I'm just making excuses for my bad coloring…"
"This isn't an excuse. It's a fact, isn't it? It actually affects your coloring ability, right?"
"Ugh…"
Aizono Moe was left speechless by the rebuttal. On pure reflex, she tried to lower her head again—but Kuroha Akira stopped her with a single finger pressed against her forehead.
"Don't go getting all disappointed on your own. Whether I keep using you or not is my decision. It's way too late for you to say you don't want to draw anymore."
"But I'm really bad at coloring… Um, I don't want to sound discouraging, but… I might not be able to meet Kuroha-kun's requirements even if I give it my all…"
"My requirements? I haven't even told you what my requirements are yet, have I?"
"Ugh…"
Kuroha Akira shook the bottle of orange soda in his hand and said,
"Earlier, with the Class Rep and Shiori around, I was being polite. Now that they're not here, let's talk about what's actually wrong with your coloring."
"O-okay! Kuroha-kun, please be honest! I'll listen carefully to your feedback!"
Just as Shirai Shiori had said, harsh criticism actually motivated Aizono Moe more. For people like her who genuinely love creating, valuable critique is worth more than empty praise—because it gives them direction and the drive to keep improving.
So Kuroha Akira didn't hold back.
"I can't say anything too technical, but from a layman's perspective, the biggest problem is the color scheme feels off. It destroys the overall unity of the illustration. Compared to a professional illustrator, there's still a huge gap."
"It's because I'm using the wrong colors, isn't it…?"
"Yeah, color weakness definitely has a big impact. But I seem to remember there are corrective glasses for color weakness, right? Why don't you get a pair? Is it because glasses would look bad on you?"
"No… My family actually got me glasses, but… even with them, it doesn't solve the coloring problem. Because it's not that I can't tell colors apart—it's that I never know if the colors I'm seeing are the same as what everyone else sees…"
"Ah, I get it. The problem isn't recognition—it's that you're afraid the colors you're using are 'wrong.'"
"Yes…"
A lot of people assume drawing only requires a vivid imagination, but that's not really how it works. Art is actually a very precise skill.
A big reason why beginners' figure drawings look bad is because their "human anatomy is incorrect." Humans are creatures that chase beauty—they prefer symmetrical structures. Specifically, we're drawn to "regularity."
Freedom doesn't mean randomness. Only by building a correct understanding of reality can you eventually create artwork that transcends it.
"So when you color, you're not actually using the 'colors you see,' are you?"
"Mm… I know my color judgment isn't accurate, so I always choose the 'correct colors' to work with…"
"'Correct colors'? How do you determine that exactly?"
"Um… paint tubes have numbers. And they come with descriptions of the corresponding colors. For example, the sky is a specific number… I've memorized the numbers and descriptions of all the commonly used colors…"
"I see. But why don't you try painting with the colors you actually see—the ones you imagine?"
"I can't paint based on what I see—everything would be completely wrong. When I was little, I painted according to my own eyes, but teachers and my parents all told me the colors were wrong…"
It seemed that after being negated by adults as a child, she stopped trusting her own eyes. She lost all confidence in coloring.
But here's the thing—"wrong" doesn't mean "bad-looking."
"You really lack confidence, Moe-chan."
"Eh…?"
Because honestly? So what if her color perception was different?
In his past life, Kuroha Akira had seen plenty of incredible painters whose use of color was incredibly bold and eye-catching.
Take that one immortal manga artist—basically an ultimate lifeform. The coloring in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure could only be described as "bewitching." Yet that unique, distinctive art style and coloring made him a god-tier creator capable of holding a solo exhibition at the Louvre.
And not just in his past life—there were plenty of painters in this world with uniquely distinctive coloring styles. Were they all using the "wrong" colors?
Not at all.
The truth was, painting—like writing novels—had no absolute right or wrong. It only mattered whether someone could appreciate it.
"I have just one question for you now, Moe-chan. Do you still want to do the coloring yourself?"
"Although I really want to… I also know that my current coloring ability isn't something I can fix with just a little more effort…"
Aizono Moe bit her lower lip. Her fingers twisted together tightly, gripping so hard her knuckles turned white—as if that could hold onto some fleeting shred of security.
Finally, she made up her mind. With the loudest voice she'd ever used, she spoke her true feelings.
"I really don't want to be a burden to Kuroha-kun's work!"
She didn't want to be seen as troublesome.
She was afraid of being left behind by her friends.
She hated being the last one.
That's why Aizono Moe appeared so timid…
She'd rather do nothing than make a mistake.
From this, Kuroha Akira confirmed it: Aizono Moe actually had a borderline personality.
*****
Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is a complex mental health condition characterized by severe difficulties regulating emotions. People with BPD experience intense emotional swings, an unstable sense of self, impulsive behaviors, and chaotic personal relationships, often driven by an overwhelming fear of abandonment.