Ena jumped, nearly dropping her stylus. Sitting on the edge of her bed was a girl who looked like she’d stepped out of a different world. She wore a crimson tactical tunic and had hair the exact shade of the cherry blossoms Ena sometimes tried—and failed—to paint.
"Your 'Inner Ena,'" Sakura whispered. "I had one too. She was the part of me that was brave when I was scared, and honest when I was polite. You’re trying to suppress her because you think she’s 'ugly' or 'too much.' But in art, that’s where the power comes from." ena sakura
For a moment, the room seemed to dissolve. Ena didn't see the messy walls of her bedroom anymore. She saw a vast, empty space w Ena jumped, nearly dropping her stylus