Abstract Painting, Ayanokouji Was Silent

Ayanokouji also stood up, glancing at the drawing paper on the desk. "Tsukishima, are you learning to draw?"

Tsukishima felt like there must be an inert gas processing plant in the guy's lungs—how else could every sentence be so flat, all in the same monotone?

Tsukishima pulled one sheet from the stack and handed it over. "I'm planning to become a doujin artist in the future. I even asked Kushida to be my model."

"How's my work? Do you see a rising star of artistry blooming before your eyes?"

Ayanokouji took the drawing.

On the paper was a girl. Her limbs were out of proportion, her features somewhat twisted. At first glance, it looked passable, but on closer inspection, it was eerily off:

The left hand was slightly longer than the right;

Something seemed to writhe in her chest;

The eyes were different sizes, yet the pupils were roughly the same;

One nostril was bigger than the other, but the wings of the nose were identical;

The mouth was relatively normal, but the curve of the lips beneath the smile was a bit off.

Ayanokouji figured Kushida probably hadn't seen this drawing. He paused for a moment. "Mm... there's plenty of room for improvement."

Tsukishima gave a light snort, snatched the drawing back from his hand, and waved him off. "You can leave. People who don't appreciate art don't deserve to stay in my room."

"Ah, that's really sad."

Tsukishima kept his pose, back turned, hand still waving.

"Having Kushida as a model might lead to bad rumors, you know."

Tsukishima kept his pose, back turned, hand still waving.

"Is that drawing of Ichinose from Class B? Even though you already have Kushida as a model."

Tsukishima kept his pose, back turned, hand still waving.

"Tsukishima, you're so mean."

Tsukishima kept his pose, back turned, hand still waving.

The two fell into silence. A few minutes later, Ayanokouji left.

Tsukishima lowered his arm and cheered, loudly: "Woo-hoo! I won!"

Ayanokouji, who hadn't walked far, had a flicker of confusion in his eyes: What did he win? Who did he beat? Why did he win? How did he win?

Forced into the "who breaks first" game for the first time, Ayanokouji was a little lost.

The next day.

Ayanokouji stared at Tsukishima's back.

The events of last night lingered in his mind: What exactly had Tsukishima won?

He decided to probe a little. So during break, he drifted over to Tsukishima's side like a ghost. "Tsukishima..."

Tsukishima was sketching Ichinose on his phone in a small notebook when Ayanokouji's voice suddenly startled him.

His hand jerked, and Ichinose's lip line broke free from the notebook's bounds, leaping onto the textbook.

Tsukishima clutched his chest, springing up from his chair so hard he nearly flipped the desk. "Can't you make some noise when you walk? Or maybe hang a bell on yourself? Or is 'silent mode' the standard issue for you 'powerless' types?"

Ayanokouji stared expressionlessly at the "cross-border work," his gaze lingering for two seconds on the lip line that had shot beyond the page. He tried to lighten the mood with a joke:

"Tsukishima, are you creating a new art movement? 'Surrealism-Media Lip Motion'?"

Tsukishima closed his notebook with a pained look, trying to press the runaway lip line back in place—utterly useless, of course. "That 'perfect curve' took me ten whole minutes to find! And you ruined it with one shout!"

"Alright, spit it out. Why aren't you being Horikita's shadow? What do you want from me? Planning to be my model?"

Ayanokouji didn't take the bait. "Tsukishima, about your 'win' last night... I have a different opinion."

Tsukishima waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. You can declare yourself the winner too, if you want."

"I see."

Ayanokouji left.

He sat back down at his seat, and no sooner had he settled than Horikita's voice reached his ears. "What did you talk to him about?"

Ayanokouji's gaze was still fixed on Tsukishima. "Just a game from last night."

Maybe I can use Kushida Kikyo and Ichinose Honami from Class B to control his actions.

He spoke again. "Apparently, both Kushida Kikyo and Ichinose Honami from Class B are his models."

Is he using drawing as an excuse to increase the frequency of meetings and influence or control Kushida and Ichinose?

"Are you planning to be his model? He might draw your face on someone's butt."

"Hmm... if Horikita were willing to be a model, it might improve relations."

Emotional value and the information gap that comes with status... Horikita, do you remember that day's lesson?

Horikita's pen paused for a moment.

Ayanokouji spoke again. "If Sudo and the others were to drop out..."

Horikita bit her lip, as if struggling.

"You saw it yesterday too, right? Tsukishima Marshal seemed to think pretty highly of him."

Horikita took a deep breath and glanced at Ayanokouji. "You bastard..."

At noon.

Tsukishima was cornered by Horikita and her shadow.

"Horikita, is something the matter?"

"I'm treating you to lunch."

"Why would I let you treat me? It's not like I'm short on points?"

Tsukishima made a stop gesture. "Horikita, if you're still asking me to tutor Sudo and the others, forget it. I really don't have time."

Horikita's expression didn't change. "You're learning to draw portraits. You need a model. Kushida has a lot of social engagements, Ichinose is Class B's homeroom teacher, and I have more free time."

Tsukishima glanced at Horikita in surprise, then swept his eyes over her shadow. "Not bad, you're improving. You know to do some research before negotiating."

"But there's still one problem. I'm learning to draw manga. Is manga the same as regular portraiture? Compared to the model's time constraints, shouldn't I care more about the model's level of cooperation?"

Horikita frowned slightly. "How much cooperation is needed?"

Just as Tsukishima was about to say something, he suddenly spotted Kushida Kikyo sneaking glances their way while chatting with her friends. He immediately waved. "Kushida, got a minute?"

Kushida walked over with the girl beside her. "What is it, Tsukishima?"

Tsukishima stroked his chin, then suddenly snapped to attention, his tone serious. "Kushida Private! Our great manga enterprise has been challenged by the hostile Horikita the Great Demon King!"

"She dares to question Saint Kushida's modeling ability! Now, show an ultra-ultra-ultra-cute expression and defeat Horikita the Great Demon King!"

Kushida froze for a moment, then immediately played along. Her face flushed, she snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, Tsukishima Marshal!"

Then, she clasped her hands together, her big eyes glistening with a dewy light, her body leaning slightly forward, her voice sweet and winding, curling from her throat to her mouth. "Horikita~ Can I be friends with you~?"

Tsukishima nearly broke out in goosebumps, struggling to keep his stern face intact.

How does a person even make a sound like that? Sickeningly sweet to the point of cloying!