"Yukihide-kun," he greeted.

"Ah, Kinnosuke!" Yukihide waved, motioning for Kinnosuke to come closer.

He handed the bouquet to Yukihide, “Inagaki said that I can't come empty-handed. So I brought this flower. Congratulations on your exhibition.”

Yukihide was at a loss for words when he received a bouquet of flowers from the younger man, “No one brought me flowers. Thank you, Kinnosuke. These flowers are beautiful."

"Hope you like it. Oh yeah, where's your painting?"

"Ah!" He stood before Kinnosuke, blocking his path with both arms outstretched to the side, "You have to promise not to make fun of me!"

“It must be good. Come on, let me take a look.” Kinnosuke didn't care and looked around, looking for the painting with Yukihide's name underneath.

His search stopped in front of a painting of two people in front of a mirror—one was Kinnosuke and the other was Yukihide. They were reflections of each other. Kinnosuke was amazed by how accurate the painting was.

“I’m sorry, I painted you again. I think what happened to us has inspired me. I know Imai thinks I'm crazy, but I want to prove that I'm not crazy and you really exist. You're more than just a reflection, Kinnosuke. Again, thanks for finding me so I'm sure I'm still sane. If I had to choose, I wouldn't mind having your reflection again."

He had a hard time digesting Yukihide's words. The man in front of him seemed to have given up hope because surely no one believed what he saw in the mirror. He had a lot of things he wanted to say, but he said something stupid instead.

“Yukihide-kun, you don't mind seeing my ugly face forever?”

Yukihide blinked, before finally bursting out laughing, "Out of all the things I've said, is that the only thing that you heard?"

He also laughed, “You can paint me however you want, I'm fine. I'm happy to inspire someone, especially someone as talented as you."

Yukihide went to get something from his bag. The sketchbook. He handed a pen to Kinnosuke then turned to a page where there was a sketch of Kinnosuke's face, "Please sign."

"What?" He was flabbergasted.

“Come on, Kinnosuke. This is the proof that you are real.”

Despite feeling awkward, Kinnosuke still signed the sketch. Yukihide looked very satisfied. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he put his arm around Yukihide's shoulder to draw him closer, “We also have to take pictures. To prove that my reflection is a person as cool as you.”

The latter’s cheeks flushed red, but he didn't have time to hide it because Kinnosuke had already taken a picture of them.

“Yukihide-kun, please take a picture of me with your painting. I want to show off to my friends that I'm a model."

Yukihide just obeyed. He took Kinnosuke’s photo several times until a middle-aged man called Yukihide's full name. His tone was firm, yet restrained with emotion. Yukihide stood still but finally he approached the man. That man came with a middle-aged woman who looked like Yukihide.

Kinnosuke watched them carefully, then heard Yukihide call them father and mother.

"Otou-san, Okaa-san, thank you for coming." Yukihide bowed respectfully. His mother hugged him while whispering something in Yukihide's ear.

"I've seen your painting. What the hell is that?” His father's jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists, "Who is that man you painted?"

"He's my model, Kinnosuke Hiro."

Hearing his name being mentioned, he bowed toward Yukihide's father to introduce himself.

“Yukihide-san, I am Kinnosuke Hiro.”

“Why is this boy the model? I don't like it."

He was not sure whether Yukihide's father didn't like him as a model or didn’t like it because Yukihide’s model was not a sexy woman.

"I apologized, Sir. I forced Yukihide-kun to accept because I know his painting is excellent."

Kinnosuke himself didn't know where the courage of lying to Yukihide’s father came from. He felt a gentle nudge on his arm. Perhaps Yukihide was trying to warn him not to mess with his father. He didn’t try to mess with Yukihide’s father. He just didn't like the way that man spoke, which seemed to bring down his son's effort.

Yukihide’s father groaned in annoyance, “I don’t even understand the meaning of this painting. If your goal is to prove to me that your painting is beautiful, I'm questioning the tastes of the judges of this exhibition. But if your only goal is to get my attention, then you failed. You've done everything to get my attention. Aren't you satisfied?"

Kinnosuke felt like being slapped by the words that came out of Yukihide's father's mouth, even though those words weren’t for him. He was worried about Yukihide’s feelings. He was being insulted by his own father. Since Yukihide didn’t say anything, his father was dumbfounded and walked away with his mother.

Kinnosuke reached Yukihide's hand, that was shaking violently. From the corner of his eyes, he caught the tears slowly falling down Yukihide's cheeks. He tightened his grip on Yukihide’s wrist. The man beside him took a deep breath, trying so hard not to cry.

"I-I have to go to the toilet." Yukihide avoided Kinnosuke’s gaze.

***