I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy Chapter 92

It wasn’t possible to start restoring the painting just because I could see it.

For one, ownership belonged to China. Even if I managed to get permission, there wasn’t a proper workspace available.

A room? Sure, I could find one anyti.

When the chairman left to negotiate, I was the only one left in the exhibition hall.

The staff who had accompanied him also left, and there was no one around to keep an eye on .

Well, in that case, maybe it was ti for a long-overdue reunion.

The inspiration for Sara was Asmodeus, the demon symbolizing lust.

However, from my perspective, lust was simply a form of desire.

Back then, all I wanted was to play and have fun.

Perhaps because of that, Sara ended up being depicted as a wild, rambunctious kid.

She was also the most cherished among the masterpieces.

In simple terms, you could say she was the mascot.

"Woong!"

Her adorable nature was why she was so loved.

Even now, the mont we t, she buried her face into my stomach, mumbling.

It felt similar to the first ti I t Miho.

But while Miho had an introverted personality, Sara’s was explosively extroverted.

So this is why people say raising kids is exhausting.

I never understood why adults couldn’t keep up with children’s energy. Now I did.

"Pwah! Let’s play! Sanya, let’s play!"

"Alright, alright. Just let go for a mont."

"No way!"

What was I supposed to do with this little one? She clung to relentlessly, unwilling to let go.

If Sara’s like this, Cerberus might be even worse.

I could worry about that later; for now, I had to deal with the situation at hand.

"If you want to play, you need to let go first."

"Ugh... but I don’t wanna let go."

A tiny girl, barely reaching 120 cm, was acting like this.

It felt like so kind of nightmare waiting to happen if this scene were caught on cara.

Good thing she’s just a painting...

With her black hair and red eyes, she reminded of Ha Soo-Yul, though her personality was the complete opposite.

If only Soo-Yul could smile as much as Sara. It was a sha she didn’t make better use of her pretty face.

"Fine, how about we just hold hands instead?"

"Okay! Sounds good. Let’s play now!"

When I painted Sara, I was an adult. So why did I end up painting a child?

As Sara climbed down, she grabbed my right hand and began swinging it wildly.

The atmosphere was entirely different from when I t Seiren or Miho.

Sara’s energy was bright and cheerful, but the background was anything but.

I sat up, shook my head, and looked around.

The red sky that had filled my vision was fading, revealing the ruins of dieval buildings.

There wasn’t a single soul in sight, and everything was in a state of decay.

Even dark fantasy worlds are better than this.

I had no idea what I’d been thinking when I painted this.

The scorched red sky and the ashen ground gave the impression of blood-soaked earth.

It was like the aftermath of a war.

I let out a deep sigh and held the small hand gripping mine.

"So, what do you want to play?"

"Hmm. Let’s play hide-and-seek!"

"...Here?"

I looked around after hearing Sara’s suggestion.

Could you even properly hide in a place like this? It felt like it would take more than a day to finish the ga.

But the look in her eyes made it impossible to say no.

If I refused, she might burst into tears right on the spot.

If only I’d brought the others along.

Unfortunately, it was school hours, so that wasn’t an option.

"But to play hide-and-seek, you’d have to let go of my hand first. Are you okay with that?"

I thanked my quick thinking.

Sara’s eyes widened at my question before she pouted.

"Ugh, fine. I guess we can play later."

Her response was terrifying.

Still, the delay gave so relief.

"Then, what should we do now?"

"Why are you asking that?"

Wasn’t she the one who dragged into this?

"But I want to play!"

She shook my hand and bounced up and down, making laugh.

Well, she was still a kid. Maybe a story would keep her entertained.

"How about I tell you an old story?"

"Gasp. Yes! Tell a Sanya story!"

I never explicitly told Sara my na.

Judging from her reaction, she probably didn’t know I had died.

Was that Master’s doing?

If she were human, she’d have reached adulthood by now.

But both inside and out, Sara was still just a child.

Perhaps that was why Master hesitated to tell her the truth.

Looking around, I found a spot to sit.

Sitting on the ground would work, but why bother when there were more comfortable options?

A collapsed building nearby had so stone bricks, so I sat on them and placed Sara on my lap.

She acted as if it were her rightful seat.

Her movents, as her head bobbed beneath my chin, reminded of Yoon.

If I had to compare, she’s like a mix of Ha Soo-Yul and Yoon.

The thought made my expression turn wry as I looked up at the sky.

The sky was still a vivid red, without a single cloud. The sight sent shivers down my spine.

Sara had endured this desolate world alone.

"Hmm. How about I tell you about the first ti we t?"

She didn’t ask, but if I knew Sara, she would’ve enthusiastically agreed.

Yet, there was no answer.

All I could see was her head swaying from side to side.

Sothing felt off as I began to speak.

Sara wasn’t an animal.

Like the Angel, there was a ti when she interacted with humans.

Not in a forest, but in the bustling heart of a city.

"Mister, if you sleep here, you’ll twist your eyes."

"...Two things are wrong there. First, I’m not ‘Mister.’ Second, it’s your mouth, not your eyes, that’ll twist."

"Wow. Correcting a kid? That’s la."

"Well, that’s part of my charm."

I’d been lying on a park bench, dozing off, when a strange girl approached .

At the ti, I was living without much direction, having just run away from ho.

Though the end of that journey was rather pathetic.

"Don’t talk to soone like . Go play with those kids over there."

There are always people in the world who say overly dramatic things, acting as if they’re soone special.

I was one of those self-loathing adults who viewed the world with cynicism.

"I would, but my body’s not in great shape."

Looking back, that girl and I were quite similar.

"They say I don’t have much ti left. I don’t have the energy to run around."

The girl sat on a bench a short distance away, smiling faintly as she watched the children playing in the distance.

The other kids laughed joyfully, kicking a ball around.

"I’ve never liked moving much anyway."

"Then we’re a good match. I don’t like wandering around either."

"Isn’t it just because you’re lazy?"

"Want to sue you for defamation?"

Thinking back, the conversation was absurdly childish. It’s so ridiculous that it makes laugh even now.

"I have pancreatic cancer."

"And? Do you want my pity?"

"Hehe. I’ve already had plenty of that. No thanks."

I thought she was strange. That was my impression of her back then.

"My na’s Sara."

"Exotic na. It suits you."

She chuckled softly, but nothing about her outward appearance suggested illness.

She seed like an ordinary child you’d find anywhere.

"Tell your na, too."

"We’re not going to see each other again anyway."

"Still. You never know. Maybe you’ll co to see when I’m dying."

"Sure, I’ll take that as an invitation to die together."

The girl sighed and looked at the park. She wouldn’t have known, but I’d been watching her eyes at that mont.

Even back then, lying on a bench and staring at the sky, I found sothing familiar about her.

Her eyes were just like those of any other kid—ordinary, with no hint of concern.

"Why are you carrying an umbrella?"

"Huh? Oh, um. I’ve never been rained on before."

Her answer was strange.

"Since I was born, I’ve only ever seen rain through a window. I’ve never felt it on my skin."

"What a peculiar kid."

How likely was it that rain would fall from the clear blue sky?

"It’s my wish. To feel the rain."

Perhaps that’s why she was wearing rain boots, a yellow raincoat, and carrying an umbrella, even though it didn’t fit the weather.

"That’s a humble wish."

"Hehe. You’re so different from the nurses."

"It’d be creepy if I were similar to them."

"You must lead such a boring life."

"Is that a challenge?"

Knock, knock.

The sound of soone knocking on the door woke Sara.

An oxygen mask covered her mouth, and her body wouldn’t move as she wished.

There were a few things she hadn’t been able to tell that man—no, that oppa—before.

Not just pancreatic cancer, but a variety of other illnesses, too.

But she hadn’t seen the need to share.

The quiet night in the hospital wasn’t so quiet in her room.

A man stepped into the room where Sara lay.

"...It’s raining outside. Want to go out?"

She wanted to ask how he had gotten in.

Their brief ti together had felt like an eternity.

But there was the reality that she couldn’t even move her head freely.

"...Just stay here. I don’t want to bring back a corpse after taking you outside."

His absurd remark made her laugh. Internally, of course.

"You asked for my na, didn’t you?"

In the silence, the man—no, Sanya—finally spoke.

Now that she saw him, he’d shaved his ssy beard.

With his clean-cut face, it felt unfair that he used to hide it.

"My na’s Sanya. It ans ‘Black Mountain.’ My damn ntor gave it to ."

"......"

"I already heard your na the first ti we t. You didn’t need to tell ."

How did he know? Her eyes widened in shock.

She couldn’t even speak, yet he seed to know everything.

"Sniff. I just... thought I’d drop by. Be healthier in your next life."

Sniffling once, Sanya scratched the back of his head, took out a single flower, and placed it beside her before leaving the room.

Even though it was a rainy night, Sara’s eyes lingered on the flower near her.

It was a flower everyone would have seen at least once in their lives.

"......"

The sa color as the boots, raincoat, and umbrella she had worn that day.

A single yellow dandelion.

As a final gift, it was light and simple.

Even so...

Tonight, I think I’ll sleep peacefully.

The fear of not seeing the next morning always lood at night.

But for the first ti, she felt calm.

And it was the first—and last—flower Sara ever saw.