"Thank you." Shinji muttered, slipping the card into his pocket, and with any greeting walking off. Like a quick black shadow, he moved through the park, carrying his stash of paintings under his arm. Like if nothing happened. He'd keep the fact that he has another order in mind, just like he'd keep the fifty dollars in his wallet, but otherwise, there was just another blank space and ordinary face.<br/><br/>The brush was set down after leaving the last one of a series of thin black lines. He dipped it into the glass with water, wiped it against his shirt, and returned to where it belonged. The painting was done... Tomorrow, he'll have to take a little trip. He sighed. Delivery was the worst thing about art.<br/><br/>But the next morning, he was already standing in front of the door on her address. It was hardly ten in the morning, pouring rain, and the only thing about him that wasn't drenched was the case with the painting. His black hair was stuck to his head, glistening in the dim light like silk, and streams of water were soaking his coat, too. He pressed one finger on the bell by the door, and rang it for a few seconds.