小画家 66

Toma put a sketchbook on his head and looked at Kenta. Kenta, looking at the black sketchbook, which had no shape and no feeling, quietly fastened his belt and winked at the members waiting in the hallway. I could hear the sound of footsteps coming up with a thud going down in an orderly fashion.

"Minjun, you can't wear anything except white and black in this house. But Toma added more gray."

"So why?"

"Dikey's orders."

"Woorazil, township. No, it's Toma. It's just, uh...…it's an element called uranium, but it's not a curse."

When Min-joon spat out a curse word in Korean, Toma looked back with his eyes shining round. When panicked Min-joon gave Kenta a look of help, he somehow called it uranium in the shape of his mouth.

"I know. Yum. I know Toma now."

"Thank you, Kenta. No, this isn't what I'm supposed to do. Thanks for your help, Kenta. What do you think about our Toma, who is only three years old in the world, drawing with only black out of all the colorful colors?"

"That's…."

"This can't be happening. There's a color of poop, but the kid's closet is going to be a funeral. Please correct it so that Toma can get access to various colors."

"Minjun, what Daiki once ordered is an immutable law. Here."

Kenta showed no sign of backing down. When I think of Toma, I'm not worried about myself, but as Kenta, who knows what Daikie was thinking about giving such an order, I couldn't help it.