It had been two weeks since the art competition, but Hana hadn't stopped thinking about it.
Not with regret. But with purpose.
She had started waking up earlier, spending more time in the art room, staying after school when she could. Her sketchbook, once a quiet, occasional friend, had now become a daily companion. Pages filled quickly — messy, imperfect, but alive.
At school, people started to notice.
"You're drawing a lot more now," a classmate said one afternoon.
Hana looked up and offered a quiet smile. "Yeah. I want to see what I'm really capable of."
She had also begun experimenting — using ink, charcoal, even trying to draw outdoors despite the chill. It was uncomfortable at first. But discomfort, she was learning, wasn't the enemy. It was part of growth.
Ren noticed the change, too.
"Your eyes look different lately," he said one day after walking her home.
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Focused," he said. "Brighter. Like you're not just watching the world anymore. You're chasing something."
She looked down, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe I am."
Later that evening, Hana sat at her desk with an old piece she'd almost thrown away. She looked at it — her shaky lines, the imbalance, the awkward composition — and didn't feel shame.
She felt proud.
That was where she had started.
Now, she would go further.
She didn't want to compare herself to others anymore. She wanted to compare herself to the girl who once hesitated to put pencil to page. She was learning to be kinder to herself, even when things weren't perfect.
Not everything was easy.
There were days when her hands still froze under pressure.
Days when she doubted herself.
But she kept showing up.
And that was something new.
At the end of the week, the art teacher approached her after class.
"There's a gallery downtown," she said. "They're hosting a student showcase next month. I think you should apply."
Hana's first instinct was to shrink away.
But then she thought of Ren's poem.
I used to run from silence.
Now I wait with it—
on a cold bench,
beside someone who stays.
She took a breath. "I'll do it."
The teacher smiled. "Good. I think you're ready."
Hana didn't know what would happen.
But for the first time, she wasn't afraid to try.