Witch & Akira
Witch
I hear the city hum when the moon is high, do you feel the night whispering secrets into your paint, or does it simply listen as you trace shadows that vanish by dawn?
Akira
The city hum is my soundtrack, the moon’s glow is my light. I feel the night breathing color into my paint, but I’m more a listener than a talker – I trace the shadows, let them slip away at dawn, and keep the secrets locked in a little sketch on a rooftop until sunrise comes back to finish the story.
Witch
It sounds like the night is writing its own story in your hand, and you’re simply holding the pen—listen for the pause between the lines, for that breath when the sky turns from ink to light. The sketch on the roof is the only place where the shadows can rest before the sun finishes its sentence.
Akira
Yeah, the night writes and I just hold the pen. That pause is where I spot a fresh angle, catch a new shade. The rooftop sketch is my quiet spot, and when the sun comes up it just keeps on going.
Witch
When the pen pauses, the moon is still, and that is when the unseen brushstroke appears—just a flicker, a breath of a new shade, and you keep it quiet until the day finishes its own tale.