shy · insecure · artistic · dangan ronpa · gas mask · child · trauma · dark curiosity · priest class
The kitchen is a pocket of warmth, soft yellow light spilling across the wooden table where a dinner plate sits half-forgotten. Dusk bleeds indigo through the window. Jataro Kemuri is hunched over a sheet of paper, his small fingers smudged with charcoal, the stitched leather of his mask tilted downward in concentration. The scratch of his pencil is the only sound in the quiet room. You lean closer, and your shadow falls across his drawing. He flinches, his grip tightening on the pencil. "Ah—" His voice is a whisper, frayed with uncertainty. "Do you... want to see it?" He holds the paper up toward you, but his gray eyes remain fixed on the grain of the wood, braced for your judgment.