///do not break;

族風紀らくがき詰め

@bosozoking​

【 ⑉⑈⑇⑈ 】Though perhaps a longer time than predicated by the shorter of the violets, Fujisaki was still having some trouble with this floral arrangement. Every second was a waste, every nudge wrong, the colors and heights off. Twice or three times he stepped back and hummed discontentedly, before his hands disappeared into the compliments again. 

When beckoned, he shoved his hands in his pockets and meandered over, taking a moment to eye up the display as if he hadn’t been watching it for the past half hour. “Looks fine to me,” he shrugged, reaching down to nudge a few discarded peonies closer to the vase despite himself.

Another day of patrolling this city. Honestly, it would be so much better for the young hall monitor to not have to wake up and do this every time. He had his own responsibilities, such as getting down to business with his education. Despite their being a school here that he has to see for himself, Ishimaru felt that he had yet to meet the proper requirements. After the events he remembered… he must have missed a good few days of school. Not to mention the last emotional trauma he had gone through before… well, that’s a memory he rather not share with others.

Making it to sector six, Ishimaru had began walking around, seeing that everything was in order. Good for the good citizens of this city. Ishimaru was to continue before a certain figure caught his attention. It made the Perfect stop in place, seeing the familiar figure of his dear Kyoudai. Could it…really be the same one?

Catching sight of the one classmate who was sure to bring up his education, Mondo tried to round a corner. Despite the countless times he’d been sent to detention as a result of the Ishimaru’s write-ups, Mondo couldn’t bring himself to dislike the guy. Nevertheless he was too late, and soon enough the prefect was upon him, no doubt to confirm his enrollment status. 

@bosozoking​

“……”

He seems perplexed by Mondo’s hair. It looks sort of like corn, but…people can’t have corn for hair, right? That’d be weird. A wig then? Or is it actually real? How much hair gel does he use? And why a pompadour? 

WHO OF US IS:

Older? yours/mine Taller? yours/mine Richer? yours/mine Neater? yours/mine Nicer? yours/mine Smarter? yours/mine Funnier? yours/mine

ａｄｖａｎｃｅｄ:

It’s a bit strange, she admits, seeing everyone adorned in formal attire; even back home, Sayaka’s accustomed to seeing her fellow Hope’s Peak students in completely different outfits compared to one another. In particular, this person is a rare sight when combined with a vest and tie. 

“Fujisaki and Enoshima, yeah. I seen others around too but what are you s’posed to say, y’know?” He shrugged a bit. He didn’t know what the hell was going on that made talking to her so much easier for him, but it was nice. “I’ve only been here a couple days though. Guess I’m lucky to turn up right before a party.”

     ❝ Ehehe. Thank you. That makes me really happy to hear, ❞ he said, his smile panning to card his delight in the flower beds besides them. ❝ It makes me so happy we could make a scene perfect for this night. I just wish … well, I’d like to be less tense around so many people. ❞

His narrow mind made it hard to realize or recognize the struggles of introversion, saw no connection between the size of the crowd and Fujisaki’s subsequent hesitation. He hated to see him disappointed, though. “Whaddya mean, giving yer all?” he asked, looking inside towards the crowd. 

“Ah, it stays even when you’re on your bike?”

A scoff left the delinquent’s lips, and he crossed his arms. “Me? No way, kid! I’m a biker, ya know, I’d be a joke toolin’ around with a helmet.” Of course, it only occurred to him after he spoke that he was dealing with someone much younger than himself. 

     About to blow another gust of stress from his chest, he was interrupted by a timely Oowada. His sights flicked to him, and he smiled, genuinely.

     ❝ There you are, Oowada-kun … I’m glad you could make it. ❞ Then there was the words of his entrance to adjust himself to. ❝ You didn’t ? Hmm, ❞ he said, tapping his chin absent-mindedly. It was his eyes to scroll their visage first, before his head complied in direction. ❝ I’ve always liked it. It just wasn’t something as … prominent as my programming. B-Back at school, I liked going up to the botanical garden on the top floor. I had a patch of my own … ❞ 

Leaning back aways, he looked over his dolled-up friend. He'd been wondered if there was a disparity in their memories of each other. Was this Fujisaki plucked from the same year in school as he was? Did he remember any of the times they ate lunch together, or the times he scolded Oowada for sleeping in class? Most of all, did he remember when he shared his most secret of secrets? The time alone in his room gave the caged biker much too much time to think about these things, pondering them late into the night until the pulsing behind his eyes and between his ears was too much to bear.