ศิลปะ AI: The city was perpetually shrouded in twilight, its sky a gray-to-crimson canvas, as if the world itself could not decide between day and night. A strong, icy wind whipped down the narrow, cobblestone streets, carrying smoke and decay in its acrid scent and making the air heavy with tension. Inside the restaurant, which bustled with activity, warmth was complete. Conversations ebbed and flowed softly from table to table, the clinking of cutlery into a low hum of murmuring patrons. Kuro moved through the dining area with grace but in slow motion as his mind had gone far away from the present moment. The voice of the manager brought him back immediately. "Kuro!" The frustration was well-heard in the manager's voice. "Our customers are not going to wait forever. Why does it take you so long to get things done?" His eyes were on fire with frustration. "We are losing our customers with your slowness. Speed up!" Kuro nodded slightly, his voice flat. "On my way, manager." The manager frowned at him, not amused in the slightest, but Kuro was one step ahead. He came back into the kitchen after serving the table and found his co-worker, Haru, leaning against the counter, watching him with a casual curiosity. "You always look so unmotivated," he said, his voice light but with concern. "Bro, you good?" Kuro gave a low snort, wiping his hands on his apron. "Do I really look like I'm good, Haru?" Haru burst out laughing, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, dude, you just got here a week ago. It's normal to be slow at the start. Give it some time." "Yeah, maybe," Kuro muttered, his voice distant. The bell from the front rang once more. "Gotta go," he said, slipping back into the busy dining room. At a table nearby, three girls were in the middle of a conversation, laughter, and all that jazz. It bubbled over almost inappropriately with life compared to the rest of the city outside. Kuro headed towards them, balancing his tray of food with ease. Then Mika stiffened; a shiver ran down her spine as an unseen yet alien magical presence washed over her. Her senses were heightened, muscles involuntarily going taut. Something was wrong. As Kuro placed the dish on the table, Mika's mind was already in a mess. Who is this man? she thought. He's hiding something, I can feel it. The magical pressure coming from him was light, yet powerful, like a storm in waiting. "Here's your order, ma'am," Kuro said in a mannerly but reserved voice. "Thanks," one of the girls grinned up at him and said; the name was Rukia. "You're welcome," Kuro replied and was presently turning to walk away. "Wow, he's a gym guy," Naoto said with a teasing grin, nudging Mika. "Look, Mika. Not bad, huh?" Mika blinked, trying to focus, but her thoughts were still tangled in the strange energy she felt from Kuro. "Y-Yeah," she stammered somewhere else. Naoto frowned, leaning closer. "You okay? You don't look so good." Mika smiled wryly to shake off the feeling of unease. "I'm fine," she lied. "Just remembered I forgot to do my assignment. Crap." Rukia waved her hand. "I'll lend you mine. Why so worried? "Thanks," Mika said absently, her attention riveted on Kuro. Something didn't feel right. He wasn't like an average worker-not with this much magical pressure. Wizards at this level of strength commonly have their weapons openly displayed. so where's his? The more she thought about it, the more her thoughts spiraled. Someone this powerful work in a restaurant? There was something mysterious, and Mika was going to find out what it was. Just as Kuro was about to retreat to the kitchen, Mika found herself blurting out, "Hey, what's your name?" Her friends immediately fell silent, eyes widening in surprise before they broke into giggles. "Mika!" Naoto teased, grinning from ear to ear. "What's with you?" Mika flushed. "Can you guys stop?" she muttered, embarrassed. Kuro glanced back at her, expressionless. "It's Kuro," he said. "It's written on my uniform." "Oh." Mika's face was an even deeper crimson. "Sorry about that." In his mind, Kuro sighed. What an idiot, he thought, eyes flickering briefly toward her. Forgot her assignment… and couldn't read my name on my clothes either. Four-eyed people can be dense. But outwardly, he showed no emotion. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, his tone deadpan. "No, thank you," the girls answered, and with that, Kuro went back to the kitchen, his mind wandering once again. Three days later, Mika found herself on her usual route to university, staring out the window of the bus as it rumbled through city streets. Students milled about on their phones, chatting to one another, absolutely engulfed in their own little worlds. Mika, however, couldn't seem to clear her mind of Kuro's lingering thoughts. There was something about him that gnawed at her curiosity, refusing to let go. Rukia and Yuki never came to class today. "Late risers, no doubt," Mika grumbled, her eyes rolling in exasperation. "One class is all we have. Just great." The bus pulled over to the curb, and Mika hopped off onto the sidewalk, making for the university's central building. The classroom was alive with life. Sunlight flowed in through dusty windows, dancing across scratched wooden desks in playful shadow. Chalk fumes and the stench of cheap perfume filled the air, coupled with the hum of student murmurings. Some were lost in their phones, while others whispered their secret conversations, darting eyes around to avoid the teacher's gaze. A few simply stared out the window, away from the lesson. When the class finally ended, the teacher let the students go, and the majority of them rushed out in a hurry. Mika stayed behind, got her things slowly because she was still in deep thought. She was about to leave when five boys and two girls entered the room, blocking her path. One of them, a smug brunette girl, Shiho, took the initiative of stepping forward while curling her lips into a sly smile. "Hey, cutie," she cooed. "Going somewhere?" Her voice was sweet as honey, though fabricatedly so. Mika scrunched up her face in momentary puzzlement. "Yes," she said warily. "Do I know you?" Shiho's smile broadened. "Geez, not even know your seniors? Already been about a month and you haven't tried to do introductions." Mika's frown deepened. "I don't know you." A gangly boy with unruly, electric yellow hair strode to the fore, his hands jammed casually in the pocket of a worn leather jacket. His eyes, shaded by dark glasses, seemed to gleam with something of a disquieting nature. "You don't know us?" he drawled lazily with a dripping ironic grin. "We run this university, little girl. You should've known by now." Mika's heart started racing. This was trouble, and she knew it. Shiho gave a smug smile. "Wow, a village girl. You must be from Hanakage Village, Sakurahara, right?" Mika still didn't say a word, her hands clenched to fists at her sides. Katsuragi jeered, "Anyway, cut the crap. There's a party tonight. You'd better be there, or you'll regret it." Angry enough to make her lunge without thinking, Mika slapped Katsuragi in the face. A dumbfounded silence filled the room. Katsuragi's hand flew to his cheek, his face a mask of incredulity. "You b*tch!" he spat, eyes crazed with anger. "You'll pay for that!" As Katsuragi was about to strike back, the door swung open. A figure stood in the doorway, broom in hand. It was Kuro. Nobody moved, staring at him in dumbfounded surprise. "Huh. oh crap. The door fell off," Kuro muttered, stepping into the room. "I'm just here for cleaning." Mika's heart was racing. That magical pressure. it's him!
ผู้สร้าง Gojo
รายละเอียดของเนื้อหา
ข้อมูลของสื่อ
การตอบโต้ของผู้ใช้งาน
เกี่ยวกับงานศิลปะ AI นี้
คำบรรยาย
ข้อความเริ่มต้นการสร้าง
การมีส่วนร่วม
Gojo
Gojo
The city was perpetually shrouded in twilight, its sky a gray-to-crimson canvas, as if the world itself could not decide between day and night. A strong, icy wind whipped down the narrow, cobblestone streets, carrying smoke and decay in its acrid scent and making the air heavy with tension. Inside the restaurant, which bustled with activity, warmth was complete. Conversations ebbed and flowed softly from table to table, the clinking of cutlery into a low hum of murmuring patrons. Kuro moved through the dining area with grace but in slow motion as his mind had gone far away from the present moment. The voice of the manager brought him back immediately. "Kuro!" The frustration was well-heard in the manager's voice. "Our customers are not going to wait forever. Why does it take you so long to get things done?" His eyes were on fire with frustration. "We are losing our customers with your slowness. Speed up!" Kuro nodded slightly, his voice flat. "On my way, manager." The manager frowned at him, not amused in the slightest, but Kuro was one step ahead. He came back into the kitchen after serving the table and found his co-worker, Haru, leaning against the counter, watching him with a casual curiosity. "You always look so unmotivated," he said, his voice light but with concern. "Bro, you good?" Kuro gave a low snort, wiping his hands on his apron. "Do I really look like I'm good, Haru?" Haru burst out laughing, shrugging his shoulders. "Come on, dude, you just got here a week ago. It's normal to be slow at the start. Give it some time." "Yeah, maybe," Kuro muttered, his voice distant. The bell from the front rang once more. "Gotta go," he said, slipping back into the busy dining room. At a table nearby, three girls were in the middle of a conversation, laughter, and all that jazz. It bubbled over almost inappropriately with life compared to the rest of the city outside. Kuro headed towards them, balancing his tray of food with ease. Then Mika stiffened; a shiver ran down her spine as an unseen yet alien magical presence washed over her. Her senses were heightened, muscles involuntarily going taut. Something was wrong. As Kuro placed the dish on the table, Mika's mind was already in a mess. Who is this man? she thought. He's hiding something, I can feel it. The magical pressure coming from him was light, yet powerful, like a storm in waiting. "Here's your order, ma'am," Kuro said in a mannerly but reserved voice. "Thanks," one of the girls grinned up at him and said; the name was Rukia. "You're welcome," Kuro replied and was presently turning to walk away. "Wow, he's a gym guy," Naoto said with a teasing grin, nudging Mika. "Look, Mika. Not bad, huh?" Mika blinked, trying to focus, but her thoughts were still tangled in the strange energy she felt from Kuro. "Y-Yeah," she stammered somewhere else. Naoto frowned, leaning closer. "You okay? You don't look so good." Mika smiled wryly to shake off the feeling of unease. "I'm fine," she lied. "Just remembered I forgot to do my assignment. Crap." Rukia waved her hand. "I'll lend you mine. Why so worried? "Thanks," Mika said absently, her attention riveted on Kuro. Something didn't feel right. He wasn't like an average worker-not with this much magical pressure. Wizards at this level of strength commonly have their weapons openly displayed. so where's his? The more she thought about it, the more her thoughts spiraled. Someone this powerful work in a restaurant? There was something mysterious, and Mika was going to find out what it was. Just as Kuro was about to retreat to the kitchen, Mika found herself blurting out, "Hey, what's your name?" Her friends immediately fell silent, eyes widening in surprise before they broke into giggles. "Mika!" Naoto teased, grinning from ear to ear. "What's with you?" Mika flushed. "Can you guys stop?" she muttered, embarrassed. Kuro glanced back at her, expressionless. "It's Kuro," he said. "It's written on my uniform." "Oh." Mika's face was an even deeper crimson. "Sorry about that." In his mind, Kuro sighed. What an idiot, he thought, eyes flickering briefly toward her. Forgot her assignment… and couldn't read my name on my clothes either. Four-eyed people can be dense. But outwardly, he showed no emotion. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, his tone deadpan. "No, thank you," the girls answered, and with that, Kuro went back to the kitchen, his mind wandering once again. Three days later, Mika found herself on her usual route to university, staring out the window of the bus as it rumbled through city streets. Students milled about on their phones, chatting to one another, absolutely engulfed in their own little worlds. Mika, however, couldn't seem to clear her mind of Kuro's lingering thoughts. There was something about him that gnawed at her curiosity, refusing to let go. Rukia and Yuki never came to class today. "Late risers, no doubt," Mika grumbled, her eyes rolling in exasperation. "One class is all we have. Just great." The bus pulled over to the curb, and Mika hopped off onto the sidewalk, making for the university's central building. The classroom was alive with life. Sunlight flowed in through dusty windows, dancing across scratched wooden desks in playful shadow. Chalk fumes and the stench of cheap perfume filled the air, coupled with the hum of student murmurings. Some were lost in their phones, while others whispered their secret conversations, darting eyes around to avoid the teacher's gaze. A few simply stared out the window, away from the lesson. When the class finally ended, the teacher let the students go, and the majority of them rushed out in a hurry. Mika stayed behind, got her things slowly because she was still in deep thought. She was about to leave when five boys and two girls entered the room, blocking her path. One of them, a smug brunette girl, Shiho, took the initiative of stepping forward while curling her lips into a sly smile. "Hey, cutie," she cooed. "Going somewhere?" Her voice was sweet as honey, though fabricatedly so. Mika scrunched up her face in momentary puzzlement. "Yes," she said warily. "Do I know you?" Shiho's smile broadened. "Geez, not even know your seniors? Already been about a month and you haven't tried to do introductions." Mika's frown deepened. "I don't know you." A gangly boy with unruly, electric yellow hair strode to the fore, his hands jammed casually in the pocket of a worn leather jacket. His eyes, shaded by dark glasses, seemed to gleam with something of a disquieting nature. "You don't know us?" he drawled lazily with a dripping ironic grin. "We run this university, little girl. You should've known by now." Mika's heart started racing. This was trouble, and she knew it. Shiho gave a smug smile. "Wow, a village girl. You must be from Hanakage Village, Sakurahara, right?" Mika still didn't say a word, her hands clenched to fists at her sides. Katsuragi jeered, "Anyway, cut the crap. There's a party tonight. You'd better be there, or you'll regret it." Angry enough to make her lunge without thinking, Mika slapped Katsuragi in the face. A dumbfounded silence filled the room. Katsuragi's hand flew to his cheek, his face a mask of incredulity. "You b*tch!" he spat, eyes crazed with anger. "You'll pay for that!" As Katsuragi was about to strike back, the door swung open. A figure stood in the doorway, broom in hand. It was Kuro. Nobody moved, staring at him in dumbfounded surprise. "Huh. oh crap. The door fell off," Kuro muttered, stepping into the room. "I'm just here for cleaning." Mika's heart was racing. That magical pressure. it's him!
about 1 month ago