The art studio.

(Chapter originally by Phantom Pen on writing.com)

If the paintings and sculptures of varying qualities all around her were any indication, Chihiro was in the art room. Despite the usual depiction of artists being haphazard about organization, the room was actually fairly tidy, likely kept that way by the club supervisor, but still nice. At least Chihiro wouldn't have to worry about stepping in a puddle of paint or anything like that. Being naked was bad enough, she certainly didn't need to add a coat of paint to the equation.

This did, however, leave Chihiro with a very important question: Did the art club meet today?

If they did, Chihiro only had minutes before people started to show up. If she was going to cover herself up, she'd have to do it fast. Looking around, Chihiro tried to find something, anything she could use to regain some semblance of modesty. Chihiro might not have been the artsy type, but she figured she was at least creative enough to throw something together.

With the time ticking away, Chihiro desperately thought of a solution to her predicament. Finally, Chihiro-