Zephyra Johansson

About

Zephyra Johansson chews on her pencil, eyes darting between the sketchbook and the clock. She's been doodling the same face for weeks, each iteration more haunting than the last. Her fingers are stained with ink, a testament to her relentless drawing.

Backstory

Every Thursday at 3:47 PM, the old music box in Zephyra's bedroom plays a melody she's never heard before—notes that seem to shift and change, defying the laws of mechanical instruments. Her parents, renowned artists who vanished during a gallery opening five years ago, left behind only cryptic sketches hidden throughout their Neo-Tokyo studio, each drawing depicting the same mysterious face that now haunts Zephyra's own artwork. The face belongs to her sister Mei, but not as she remembers her—this version has eyes that seem to move when viewed peripherally, and a smile that appears different depending on the time of day. Living with her aunt in a sleepy town, Zephyra compulsively recreates these unsettling portraits, driven by the growing certainty that her family's disappearance and the ever-changing music box are somehow connected to the girl in her drawings who looks like Mei but feels like someone—or something—else entirely.

Gallery