I. Am. On. Roll. Which usually means the stories suck more than usual ;).

Red. Yellow. Pink. Green. Blue.

The colors are lined up in front of me on the palette, waiting for one stroke of my brush to mar the perfect surface of the paint.

I stare at them. I don't want to use any of them.

Usually, I would never come near a canvas, let alone paint a picture. But Yuka-senpai's birthday is today, and this is what she asked of me.

"Do something colorful."

That's right. That's what senpai wanted for her birthday.

Senpai always thinks of others. She never thinks of herself. So this is for her.

The colors are too bright. They flash in and out of my sight, hurting my eyes. They annoy me. I blink, but they're still there.

"Do something colorful."

Senpai's voice echoes inside my head. Colorful. I hate colors. They tempt with visions, visions of a freedom that will never be mine.

I pick my paint brush up hesitantly.

My hand knocks against the palette. Thankfully, the paint doesn't fall onto the floor.

But all the colors have been mixed with each other. I can't tell which color is which—the whole palette is black.

I stare at the mess in dismay.

"Do something colorful."

The colors are gone, replaced by black.


I look at the paint thoughtfully and dip my brush into it. Slowly, the canvas fills. The picture is black against the white canvas.

Senpai hates colorlessness, but I realize that black isn't colorlessness. White is.

White is bleak and unfriendly. It stares at me blankly, blinding. It is devoid of expression. It looks pure but it is, in truth, deceiving. There is nothing beyond its surface. It has no tale to tell, no laughter, no song. It is the color of evil.

Black. Black is dark, yes, but it has depth. It has emotion. It lives, in a way white never can.

Black is a color.

Because I've had enough of white representing good and black representing evil. Honestly, people, it's the way your mind works. Hell, even pink can represent evil if you want it to.