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[i]Masuda High - Mr. Hagino's History Class[/i][/center][hr]
Most sleepy students would have gotten their final Zs in during Homeroom, but most students weren't moonlighting as a secret underground artist.

Hidekichi was operating on autopilot, fishing his history book out of his bag like a zombie, half awake where he sat. There was even some drool out of the corner of his mouth as he caught some 'waking sleep' while their teacher began calling for attendance. But Hidekichi was too far gone to really pay attention to whenever his name came up.

In whatever sorta fugue state he was in, Hidekichi took his pencil to his textbook, idling scratching out lines, angles, diagrams of disparate parts of the project he'd spent all last night working on - an avant-garde picture frame for some random billionaire so he could show off a painting from a [i]different[/i] artist. Maybe it was some sort of prank, but whatever. The money was real.

[sub]"Seventeen minutes to cool b'fore applying the second layer... piece together the broken corner... bucket of kitchen grease..."[/sub] To his immediate desk-neighbors it'd sound like some nonsense cooked up in a dream, not the ramblings of an artist on a deadline, and his general rep meant that sketching over the illustrative diagrams in the book could be chalked up to classic delinquency. Really, it was almost on luck that he wasn't suspected of being anything more than some punk highschooler.

At some point, likely past when his name was called and ignored, Hidekichi's head slipped from his hand, chin cracking on his desktop with enough force to immediately jolt him back up. "HOO!" He yelped, part surprise and part [i]oh-yeah-I'm-in-class[/i], "I'm up! Here! I'm here!"