“When You Sketch Me Smiling” “When You Sketch Me Smiling”

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“When You Sketch Me Smiling”

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“When You Sketch Me Smiling”

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Title: “When You Sketch Me Smiling”

Chapter 1: The Girl in the Art Room

It was raining again. Not the loud, dramatic kind, but the soft drizzle that paints the school windows with streaks like tears. Shizuka Minamoto was walking down the hallway, her violin case in one hand, umbrella in the other. Her club had been canceled due to the weather, and now she was just… wandering.

That’s when she passed the old art room—the one no one really used anymore. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear the soft scratching of a pencil against paper.

Curious, Shizuka peeked inside.

There she was—Jaiko, sitting by the window, completely lost in her sketchbook. Her hair hung over her face, glasses slipping down her nose, and yet her hands moved with such quiet purpose. It was like watching someone breathe life into paper.

Shizuka didn’t mean to make a sound, but the floor creaked beneath her feet.

Jaiko looked up—startled, cheeks instantly flushing pink. “Sh-Shizuka-san?”

“You draw here?” Shizuka asked gently, stepping in. “I didn’t know anyone still used this room.”

Jaiko looked down at her sketchbook, clutching it to her chest. “It’s quiet here. And… no one really comes in, so…”

Shizuka smiled, setting her violin case down and coming closer. “Can I see?”

Jaiko hesitated. For a second, she looked like she might say no—but then, slowly, she opened her sketchbook to a page.

It was Shizuka.

Not exactly as she looked in real life—this Shizuka was laughing, eyes crinkled, joy spilling out of her expression like sunlight. A version of her that felt… freer.

Shizuka’s breath caught. “You drew me?”

Jaiko’s ears turned red. “I… I just draw what’s beautiful.”

For the first time in a long while, Shizuka felt her heart stutter.

No one had ever looked at her like that—not like a model, or a perfect student—but like a person worth capturing in art.

“You should keep drawing me,” she whispered, cheeks warm.

Jaiko’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Really?”

“Yes,” Shizuka smiled softly, touching her arm. “Maybe I’ll even play you something in return.”

And just like that, something quiet and beautiful began—two girls, slowly stepping into each other’s worlds.

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Title: “When You Sketch Me Smiling”

Chapter 2: Violin Strings and Graphite Smudges

The art room slowly became their place.

Every afternoon, after their clubs ended and the halls emptied, Shizuka would slip inside, violin case in hand. Jaiko would already be there—usually sketching, always a little shy but never asking Shizuka to leave.

And Shizuka never wanted to.

They rarely talked at first. It was a comfortable quiet—the kind that grew between people who didn’t need to fill every second with words. Sometimes, Shizuka would practice her violin softly in the corner while Jaiko drew. Other times, Jaiko would sit silently with her sketchbook, glancing up every now and then to study the curve of Shizuka’s wrist as she played.

One Thursday, as the sky turned golden outside the window, Shizuka finished a short piece and glanced at Jaiko.

“Do you like music?” she asked, wiping rosin from the strings.

Jaiko nodded. “Your music is… calming. It makes the pencil move on its own.”

Shizuka tilted her head. “Draw me while I play something?”

Jaiko blinked. “You don’t mind?”

Shizuka stepped forward, sitting on the stool opposite her. “Not at all. I want to see how I look through your eyes.”

There was something electric in that moment. Not loud—but a hum, like the vibration of a violin string just after the bow lifts.

Jaiko’s pencil danced as Shizuka played again—a slow, haunting melody, like a question held in the air. Her eyes flicked to Jaiko often, studying the way the girl furrowed her brow in concentration, the smudge of graphite on her fingertips, the soft curve of her lip as she focused.

When the final note fell into silence, Jaiko hesitated before turning her sketchbook around.

This Shizuka was different again—eyes closed, lost in her music, but with a softness in her face that she hadn’t known she could show.

Shizuka reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Jaiko’s face without thinking. “You always draw me like I’m… more.”

Jaiko looked up, heart skipping. “Because you are.”

Their eyes locked.

In that moment, something shifted—something unspoken passed between them, fragile and real.

Then the bell rang for late dismissal, and the spell broke.

They both jumped, laughing nervously.

Jaiko stood to pack up. “Um… Do you want to come to the art exhibit next week? At the city gallery?”

Shizuka smiled. “Only if you promise one of your pieces will be there.”

Jaiko blushed. “Maybe…”

Shizuka leaned closer. “Make it the one of me.”