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Description
So, kids. Sit down on the floor, I have a story to tell.

One year ago, our heroine Niya began a portrait of the famous King of JPop, Gackt. She was quite busy at that time what with moving out of the old and into the new apartment, making a collab for a friend, learning for exams.
And it so happened that the portrait vanished into a box, being ignored for Niya had other things to do, mentioned above.
The portrait was quite sad but clung to the hope that some day Niya would remember it, grab her pencils and finish it.
But that day never came. Yet.
The portrait waited and waited and waited. It shrieked when suddenly an ugly yellow/brown stain appeared at the top of the sheet but its screams for help were not heard.
Days, months passed and the portrait gave up hope slowly.
Though one year later, Niya had the striking urge to draw portraits again. She searched high and low for paper when suddenly, a rumpled and stained sketch book caught her eye. She opened it softly and gasped.
Inside of it laid the portrait she began one year ago. It had sad eyes but re-awakened hope shone so strong that Niya could not resist. She carefully took out the portrait, grabbed her pencils and finished it.

But the sad eyes remained. She had broken it.

Description
So, kids. Sit down on the floor, I have a story to tell.

One year ago, our heroine Niya began a portrait of the famous King of JPop, Gackt. She was quite busy at that time what with moving out of the old and into the new apartment, making a collab for a friend, learning for exams.
And it so happened that the portrait vanished into a box, being ignored for Niya had other things to do, mentioned above.
The portrait was quite sad but clung to the hope that some day Niya would remember it, grab her pencils and finish it.
But that day never came. Yet.
The portrait waited and waited and waited. It shrieked when suddenly an ugly yellow/brown stain appeared at the top of the sheet but its screams for help were not heard.
Days, months passed and the portrait gave up hope slowly.
Though one year later, Niya had the striking urge to draw portraits again. She searched high and low for paper when suddenly, a rumpled and stained sketch book caught her eye. She opened it softly and gasped.
Inside of it laid the portrait she began one year ago. It had sad eyes but re-awakened hope shone so strong that Niya could not resist. She carefully took out the portrait, grabbed her pencils and finished it.

But the sad eyes remained. She had broken it.