The Sky I Want to Paint Must Wait a Little Longer

Vihal stopped thinking about ideals and balance first, and painted.

In the first of the consecutive skies, the cloud came out a little too dense and went slightly over the specification, but he still finished within the time; and in the second, though breathing hard, he completed it too, five minutes ahead of schedule and with the percentage exact.

As he came down through the atrium on his way to the dining hall for lunch, he happened to meet Edwin just as he was arriving, and naturally the subject turned to the strange assignments of the day.

"Things are awfully hectic today. You be careful too, all right? If anything happens, call for help properly."

Another angel had told him the same thing, and now Edwin did too. Smiling wryly, Vihal answered,

"I will. You too—don't overdo it, Edwin!"

"Right," Edwin said cheerfully, and headed for the upper floors. Vihal watched him go and then continued on to the dining hall.

The dining hall stood right next to the Bulletin Office, and unusually the Planning Division angels did not seem to be eating all at once; they were rushing in and out in a restless flow.

"Then today's arrangements really were…"

He almost murmured *a mistake of some kind*—and swallowed the words.

Thinking of the failure he himself had made yesterday, he felt he had no right to say it.

All he could do was take care not to make the same sort of mistake next time. Surely it was the same for them.

◇◆

The afternoon was not a set of consecutive shifts, and so it was easier on him both physically and mentally.

For now, he tried putting into practice what he had realized that morning, and little by little the time he took became steadier and a little faster.

"Still… if it's too plain, I can't help feeling it's monotonous…"

Standing before the last sky he had painted that day, Vihal murmured it.

He opened the door, stepped out, and checked the clock that met his eyes at once. He had finished ten minutes early.

"What I have to do is finish the exact percentage, exactly in time.

The sky I want to paint comes later!"

He said it like something he was teaching himself, looked at the sky he had painted one more time, and then shut the door.

Even so, today had certainly been full of skies with rather high percentages, and that had been tiring enough; and that first shift had been a night sky, when one was not meant to be assigned one at all… Thinking that, he flew toward the entrance below the clock, and from somewhere beneath him a shout reached his ears.

"What do you people think we are!"

"You're telling us *now*? There's no way that's possible!"

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