Akihito didn’t notice that class had ended until Miyamoto-kun hurriedly strode past him like he always did after a maths period. 

[i]Hmm, the siscon is probably going to his Mcdonald’s job again[/i], he observed, though he’d never dare say it out loud. He had visited that particular joint once during the summer break. As Aki had waited for his order, he had the misfortune of locking eyes with the notorious brawler behind the assembly line. With a single look, they had both silently agreed to not talk about it in future. 
The Irimi family wasn’t poor by any standards; in fact, their financial situation wasn’t even something he should have been ashamed of. If anyone at school found out, he could easily turn it into a source of sympathy rather than reason to be mocked. Even so, he chose to wear the oversized green cardigan over his school shirt rather than the tattered third hand Uchima gakuran he had acquired for half price. Poverty was the only aspect of himself he couldn’t manipulate.

He looked down at what had diverted his attention from the school bell before: a detailed drawing of a single butterfly. His dreams had been unnerving lately, consisting of many strange things; weird masks, weird creatures, and butterflies, always butterflies. They haunted him even outside his dreams now, in the form of his art. Usually Aki could rarely recall his dreams, but now it was different. He’d wake up with … impressions, and the lingering sense of dread. The best way to figure it all out was to make it tangible, something he could deal with. Putting it on all paper was a start, though his colleagues in Art Club would often comment on the switch from his usual landscape paintings.

[color=82ca9d]“Just trying something different,”[/color] he’d smile sweetly. Of course they’d notice the switch. His recent works looked like things out of that Kaiki Zone cartoon they played on Saturday mornings. He continued to sketch in the Art Room as the occasional thunks and chatter from the Archery Club provided some ambience. After a half hour, he wiped his brow, accidentally getting some charcoal on his face while observing his latest product; a picture of a wide, elegant but poorly lit room with a singled clothed table. The illustration was monochrome due to the charcoal, but Akihito knew it was meant to be deep blue. The other denizens of the Art Club were discussing the Student Council President’s disappearance. Feh, he’d had enough of that news after the first day. The culprit was probably a scorned lover or something, after all Mr President did have quite a few admirers with that handsome mug of his. Aki ignored them as he considered what to do next.

[i]More butterflies I guess[/i], he thought as he readjusted his easel.