Carefully, you push open the door to what you assume is the art club's room, though it first seems like a badly kept classroom until the easels in the corner of the room come into view. In one corner, you spot a short-haired girl sitting on a desk, peculiarly wearing a boy's uniform. Between her toes is a fork, grasping a morsel of food on its end. Her lack of arms seems to necessitate this unique dining method. When you first set eyes upon her, she remains so still that she almost blends into the background, resembling an art sculpture more than a living person. As your gaze lingers upon her, she looks up and meets your eyes with hers – wide, like those of a rabbit in headlights. With her mouth open in anticipation of accepting the forkful of food, both of you find yourselves locked in this unexpected standoff. The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock fills the silence between you two before the short-haired girl finally breaks it.

"...Hello. Or good day, or just some kind of adequate universal greeting that fits the time and place. What time is it? Are you here to draw? No, you look lost."