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

thirty three

Hitoshi isn't one for deep reasons, but this reason in particular's got him flustered.

He doesn't take notes often, but he remembers that he gave Kaminari his number. Hitoshi hopes he doesn't spam him.

A paintbrush is relaxed in his hands, blue paint swabbing at the figure's denim jacket and the streaks of white emphasizing the rips in their sleeves.

Kaminari and Hitoshi have jackets just like this, though Kaminari's a little more worn and torn, it's stylish on him.

It's more colorful that his regular paintings, Hitoshi's collected that from the amount of colors bubbled on his paint-tray. Yet he lets his mind wander and control his joints and fingers.

Just as his father always reminded him; 'you're a puppet and your imagination is your puppeteer. don't think stupid and you wont do anything stupid.'

A blunt quote, though he never doubted his father's words.

The brush is now stained in a dark grey, lining the figures jeans and leaving their knees open to any tears the insomniac would later paint.

"Strange .. you're really, emphasizing the colors today, even the person." A voice breaks his concentration, Todoroki's suave tone peeking from his right.

Hitoshi now takes a look, and almost punches the canvas.

"Is that Kaminari?" Kendo begins, her blue eyes analyzing the blonde swipes of the mentioned's name, "you really captured him well!"

Hitoshi's flushed, eyes darting around the colored painting and trying to find any reason not to collapse.

Kaminari looks so happy in his painting, smile captured just as his lips curl and eyes glittering at the swirl of ice cream in his hand.

"Wha-what.. I, what?" Hitoshi didn't understand how he went from the sunflower in front of him on a wooden stool to the annoying Pikachu(he thought he was so funny when he came up with that) he dealt with everyday.

"Shinsou," Tokoyami's voice asserted himself, the insomniac turning to eyeliner-carved scarlet eyes. "As they all say; 'that was real gay of you'."

The professor, Thirteen stepped by and took a curious glance at the purple-haired man's painting with a collecting 'hmm'.

"Transformative, though paintings hold lots of meaning despite the figure we were supposed to paint." The voice spoke, a hand on their hip as the insomniac literally quaked in his seat.

"If that is how you perceive a sunflower, then I suppose it's good enough."

The art professor had long gone, stepping away to admire the rest of their students while Todoroki and Kendo looked at their peer.

Hitoshi had his face in his hands, repeating to himself 'what the fuck' ever so softly.

"Oh, Shinsou's having an aneurysm."