A S T A T I C [s.hitoshi & k.denki]

nine

Hungry, hungry, hungry. Denki was hungry, then again, that's what 4 days of literally not eating would do to you. He felt bad for using his black card, but if Uncle Bolt wanted him to use it - he was sure to use it.

The egg rolls were good, but they were limited and the blonde was left with no more on the tray before he reached for one of his sandwiches. The addition of the cucumbers and veggies weren't unwelcome, considering how often he was fed salads as a kid, but the meat made him all drooly for more.

Drinking a little from his noodles, the blonde couldn't taste anything; maybe a hint of beef but the flavor wasn't there. Aizawa's lesson was hard enough, but now his food wanted to be a bitch?

Looking around, he'd forgotten that someone had shared their table with the mess that he was. As polite and coherent as Denki could muster, he looked towards the sriracha and chili oil on the table, near the other guy's side.

"Could you give me the uh.. hot sauce..?" The other's hand wrapped around the bottle, Denki's eyes glittering at the sight as the sriracha was placed in direction.

"Yeah sure." The voice was blurry in his ears, the hunger getting the blonde as he simply turned the green cap to the bottle.

Denki was sure he felt eyes on him, but that didn't matter as he squeezed the bottle like it was mandatory - the thick red sauce literally screaming stomach ache. Though he persevered, the brown broth fading into a toxic red.

"Oh my fucking god." The person's voice bounces through the blonde's ears, looking up at the other.

They had purple hair that literally went crazy(and stupid) and indigo eyes that were accented with eye bags. They looked like someone Denki knew, but at this point, the blonde didn't seem to recognize them.

"What?"

"You are one crazy son of a bitch."