eyes drill into the new, unfamiliar face, nearly without shame. still, he makes a purely formal effort to be subtle, preoccupied. [he is preoccupied, in his defense. waiting for someone. yeah, that sounds about right.] the aesthetic this student had was nearly gaudy... the type of eccentric that’s fitting for an ultimate. not in a bad way, of course. he’d never dare say something negative about a classmate.
a freshman. he must be, because komaeda doesn’t recognize him. he has such a confused look to him, as well. gaze darts from the red hair to the vending machine he’s lurking by, from the floor to the backpacks he’s sitting next to. [ah, no, don’t worry! i’ll just stay here and look after your things... i don’t like crowds.]
he repeats the act, trying to examine without staring for too long. idly, he taps his fingers against the wooden bench, sound quiet but consistent, and wonders-- which one could this student be?
it’s fun to humor the thought. [perhaps he’s the ultimate gambler? ah, no, no... that title belongs to a girl, doesn’t it?]
@fungeos liked for a starter!