Psycho Pass: Redemption (UPDATING)

3 (UPDATED)

Touma looked down with a serious expression, his fingers holding his black pen by each end, until he gazed up at him with a smile, "I'll have to kill her."

"Any man can make a mistake, but only an artist can turn it into a work of art."

"I'm not much of an artist, but I understand their desire to stand out, the inability to repress one's own nature."

"And there is something in that you can relate to? What can't you repress?" he asked slowly.

Touma narrowed his eyes and smiled, turning his head towards the window.

"I only dream of leaving a mark on this world... one of yours and mine."

"I look forward to it," he smirked with narrowed eyes.

"What would you like to do when you finish your studies?" Rikako asked with her back turned, hands on either side of her body.

The few clouds in the sky allowed both Yashiro and Rikako to enjoy the warm embrace of the sun. They were away from the other students, so they could hear each other without interruption. Yashiro was sitting by the fountain in the courtyard contemplating every detail of the falling water, listening to the sound it produced, letting herself be carried away by its beautiful calm.

Yashiro reached out her hand towards the water, letting her fingers gently caress it. She smiled as her eyes narrowed, and then the image began to flicker. Rikako watched as the rippling water transformed into a play of light and shadow. It was as if a subtle spell had been woven over the fountain, revealing its true nature: a hologram.

Sitting on the stone surrounding the fountain, Yashiro seemed to blend into her surroundings, like an ancient sculpture emerging from history. Her posture was serene, one leg crossed over the other, her arm outstretched towards the hologram of water dancing before her. That moment seemed suspended in time, a gracefully captured image, framed by the ethereal flicker of the projection.

"That's a question not everyone has the luxury of asking today. Some people don't even bother to ask it anymore... what's the point, if the Sibyl System recommends professions according to talents?" Yashiro pulled her hand away.

Yashiro's silver eyes seemed dreamy, but strangely subdued, as if they searched endlessly for the answer to something they had no access to. Her tone was nostalgic, so gentle that Rikako needed to sharpen her hearing to hear it.

"I would like to continue my father's work," said Rikako.

Yashiro studied her for a long time in silence. Her father, Ouryou Roichi, had been a highly regarded artist. She had the pleasure of enjoying some of his works online and found them mesmerizing. Especially the one depicting a head with its hands around it, as if engulfed in grief or hatred, among the naked body of a woman and with flowers and plants on the sides of the painting. Rikako's room was a clear demonstration of his legacy.

For her it was admirable that in a world like the one they lived in, there were still people who chose their future profession without taking into account the recommendations offered. There was no longer any place for artists in that city, since art made no rational sense, and yet Ouryou Rikako belonged to that small sample of people who chose to devote themselves to what they were passionate about, even though they sometimes knew they were no good at it.

"How is he?" Yashiro asked.

Rikako gazed at the sky, until she finally sat down next to her. She had a sweet but barely perceptible scent permeating her clothes that brought a smile to Rikako's face for a moment. Her hands rested on the stone seat, and Rikako could not help but glance at them.