Kirishima was slumped over the coffee table, his red hair spilling across a worksheet that looked suspiciously like it had been chewed on. Kaminari was beside him, staring at his own textbook with the dazed expression of a man who had been electrocuted one too many times.

His heterochromatic eyes—gray and turquoise—were fixed on a page he hadn't turned in three minutes. His right hand was gripping the spine of his book a little too tightly.