Her Stalker

"Hey, don't you think Anne's been real odd recently?"

This was written inside her darling textbook, which she had so dearly protected from fiendful inkings to retain its eternal purity.

A dramatic tear slipped from Sabrina's left eye. Blood will flow!

"Argh, argh!! What did I do?! Stop—Ahh!!"

By the time Frank was released from the painful chokehold, he knew he'd be stretching his neck for days to recover.

If there was one thing about Sabrina, it was her monstrous strength—perhaps due to her athletic nature, which was one thing Anne lacked.

"You didn't tell—argh!! Fine, I saw the bright red text, I just forgot~~~Ahh!!!"

He ended up sprawled out in defeat, massaging his sore neck with teary eyes.

Why were his friends so mean QAQ? Maybe it was time to spend some time with the boys for some healing TnT.

"On the matter of Anne," Sabrina broke the silence that lingered between them. They were in the classroom long after dismissal, waiting for Anne to be done with the student council meeting. "She's stalking her potential muse."

"...What?!" Frank stood up with a start but yelped the next instant—his neck!!

She applied more of the white fluid on the ink writing before smiling in satisfaction.

"Gabrielle Nandia." She faced Frank. "I didn't even know of the existence of such a student despite being in the same year as me, and I know 95% of the school's occupants—non-academic staff and other year students combined."

Frank massaged his neck with a sad look. "Muse? For real?"

After all this time?

"Yeah, I was surprised as well," Sabrina frowned. "She was so excited she had already started making plans for her return."

"Damn!" Frank sat up. "This is serious—"

"Yes," the blonde-haired girl smirked. "It is~. She's about to snatch away that position you've held onto for so long. Finally, I can have you accompany me in second place. I've been so lonely, and Anne isn't really second-place material."

Frank scoffed. "You're so sure I'll lose?"

"You know better, Frank." Sabrina chuckled, reaching out to fiddle with the male's black locks. "Art is like Anne's soul-bonded familiar. Once her hand touches that brush or pen or pencil… all logic disappears. Her art is simply… outworldly."

Frank frowned even harder, laying back on the desk, disrupting Sabrina's play.

"Nah, I'd win."

"Yeah, right."

---

Art was an expression of one's soul to most people. To a few, an obligation. And to another special set, a soulmate.

Anne was from the last set. Art, to her, came like the rising of the sun and its setting—natural, unobstructed, and freely flowing like an ocean on a calm evening.

She was the type to make an impromptu drawing or painting that'd leave those who had made endless preparations completely devastated. It was more than talent—it was a bond to art beyond flesh.

It was natural to presume such a person surely wouldn't need a muse. Which was mostly true, but not exactly. Anne never bothered with or even knew about the concept of muses until the day she saw her mother on a bed of flowers, blushing with laughter as she spoke with her father.

Suddenly, she understood why people had muses, and her mum became hers.

A muse was like the single circuitry within the magic of art that, without it, art would still function, but with it, art became a whole different thing.

Most artists had muses—subconsciously or consciously—and a few had none. Regardless, a museless artist wasn't soulless or talentless, but they sure were missing out.

After that incident where she lost her muse, Anne slowly lost her will to do art. It was still beautiful, but it became more formulaic than spiritual, and her bond with it had been severed.

So she decided to take a break from art… which had been quite a while. Allowing her art rival, Frank, to swiftly displace her from the first position.

But one thing about Anne was that she was disciplined but never did anything out of obligation. She did things because she liked doing it. And if she ever stopped liking it, she was bold enough to drop it without a second thought.

Thus, regardless of her rankings, she refused to do art until her spark was rekindled, and now… she had a new muse.

Even if she was to be a criminal, there was no way she'd let go of them.

---

"Miss President, you're very sure if I can find a way for you to approach Gabrielle, you'd do my work for a week?! The whole… thing… Wow!"

The brunette male with an auspicious tall height towered above her table with excitement.

Anne smiled while arranging some documents. They had just finished their meeting.

"Of course. As long as you keep it under covers and don't scare her off."

The boy grinned. "Sure thing, Miss President! You don't have to worry. Even if it's a dead rat within the deepest terrains of the school, as long as you have that deal, granted! I'll have it found within days!"

Anne laughed while readjusting her glasses. Of course, he would. Why else would she give him such a huge workload if not to make the offer more tempting?

Sure, it was a despicable method, but all's fair in love and war.

The gullible fellow, who hadn't thought for a moment that their graceful president would perpetrate such wickedness, stuttered out with the halo of one who had won a lottery.

Anne retracted her eyes to the documents.

Gabrielle Nandia… Why was she so damn difficult to find? She wasn't even taking that path anymore… and there were zero traces of her on the net. Did she hate attention that much?!

"Urgh! Why is she the one again?!" Anne slammed her hand on the table. This was so frustrating, but…

Her mind wandered to her blushing face, and she suddenly felt better. Well, she was very cute, so that's a plus.

Anne smiled a bit at the thought. Cute was an understatement, if she was, to be honest….

---

"Oh, Miss President, what brings you here?"

The library aunty was as cheerful as always—What a huge lie!

Someone so grouchy and mean-spirited had become so cheerful!

Miss President, please teach us your powers! The whole library participants collectively echoed in their minds—including the workers.

"Oh? Gabrielle? This…" The library aunty hesitated, but once Anne brought out the big guns, she was easily subdued.

Within a relatively hidden corner in the bookshelves, Anne strolled in casually, her steps as light as can be—perhaps consciously or unconsciously.

She slowly made her way from corner to corner until she arrived at a certain area. One side of a twin puff of black curly hair peeked out without its owner's knowledge.

She smiled mischievously.

Softly tiptoeing to the area, she towered over the reading girl, who was so gone she still hadn't noticed until she cornered her with both hands in the popular kabedon position—except with her seated on the floor and Anne above her.

Gabrielle looked up instantly. Her bangs slid down, and Anne could make out the shock in her glass-like obsidian eyes.

She couldn't tell why, but whenever they met, the prickly porcupine seemed to get cuter.

"Hi~" she greeted with a flirtatious smile. "Cutie~."