[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/8JWadVO.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjg4LmYyMmMxOC5TMlYwYzNWbGEya2dRV3RoWkdFLC4wAAAA/youmurderer-bb.regular.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=red][b]Location:[/b][/color] Culinary Arts
[color=red][b]Tagging:[/b][/color] [@Eggs][@Aerandir][@Lucius Cypher][@Heartfillia][@pkken][@Silver Carrot][/center]

[center][hider=Happy Tune][youtube]https://youtu.be/47dtFZ8CFo8[/youtube][/hider][/center]

     [color=ed1c24][i]Crunch; munch; crunch[/i][/color] were the sounds that filled his head along with the happy tune that was currently filling his ears. Large headphones cupped his ears as he walked to the rhythm of the song, swinging his one arm of the hand that wasn’t holding an apple. [color=ed1c24][i]Hm, hm, hm-hm-hm, hmm[/i][/color] he hummed along to the tune. The school day was almost over, and so far, his life had been interesting. Every day seemed to bring him closer and closer to achieving his goal. What was there not to be happy about? His face radiated with joy as a smile speckled with pieces of apple was stretched across his face. He was glad that the culinary arts class was right after lunch. If he had had an appetite, then he might not have been able to complete any of the tasks—he would have ate them all.

     Akada stopped before the door of the class and peered up at the room number as he took another bite from his apple. He didn’t have to reference his schedule for he was certain he was in the right room. A hero had to be confident! [color=ed1c24][i]If this is the wrong class, then so be it. Failure only makes me stronger,[/i][/color] he mused, a brief frown of determination hardened on his face before he grasped the doorknob and stepped through the door. If there were any rain clouds in the classroom, they might have vanished as soon as the redhead entered the room. He ripped the apple from his mouth, revealing his bright smile that was clenched in a large grin—which might have been too much cheer for those possessed by bitter banshees. He raised his hand in greeting, revealing the bandages that covered his first, second, and third fingers—he tried to change it up every now and then.

     [color=ed1c24]“[i]Mokkari-makka?[/i]”[/color] Akada greeted, which was unusual to those not used to hearing Osaka-ben. While colloquially, in the current context he had given a simple greeting of hello, its literal translation was [i]Are you making money?[/i]

     The redheaded boy’s crimson eyes swept the classroom, rolling over to the desks by the window. He always preferred the window seat not because he didn’t like paying attention—he could multitask!—but he liked the view of the outside. The birds, the sky, some teenagers running around playing hooky and getting chased down by campus security. It was all amusing.

     Munching on the piece of apple that he had stored in his cheek, Akada pushed his headphones from his ears with the side of his hand as he headed over to the open desk. The headphones settled about his shoulders above the usual getup that all male students at the academy wore. He preferred to wear the sleeveless sweater for it kept him cool. As much as he disliked the uniforms, he treated his like he would treat his hero costume or some other form of professional attire. He was a student of Komei Academy and he always had to represent the school by maintaining a crisp, clean uniform and well-groomed hair. His gray dress pants emitted a metallic clank as he walked. He clearly had some sort of junk in his pockets--change or key chains? Who knew?

     With the toe of his foot, he caught the leg of a chair and drew it out before he sat down on it. He kept some space between his chair and the desk so he could cross his left leg over his right in a relaxed four. His non-apple hand snaked into the pocket of his pants, rustling through the clutter to his phone as he tapped its flat screen, having memorized his pass-pattern. He cut off his music and resumed eating his apple as he waited for class to start.

     Culinary; why had he chosen culinary? It had nothing to do with being a hero. It wouldn’t make him a better hero to know how to cook. Cooking had been the one thing that he had gotten to do with his mother. It had been the most attention he was able to get from her whether it was honest or false attention. Regardless what it was, it made him happy. Being able to express himself in a creative environment made him happy and seeing his hard-work pay off in the form of something delicious, it was a great feeling, especially when he could share it with others.