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it was as if the world lulled itself to sleep, and the sunrays threadbare despite its eagerness to touch the hills a second ago. the once-rustling of curtains that covered the windows were void of sound; lighthearted laughter in all four corners of the room was replaced with silence, blanketed along with the grating sound of chairs—Yatora had tuned out from the physicality of life, only to immerse himself into the landscape set out before him. as if the Shibuya dawn is what he could only gaze at now. that blue world.
or: Yaguchi Yatora discovers the joy of painting.
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Summary
when body meets body, there is beauty to relay, to capture, to say.