Class S: The Warring period (3rd year saga)

Chapter 165: The Artist

Hideki POV

What is art? 

What defines it as such. 

Well, it is a way of expressing oneself through creative means. 

Art is only limited to the imagination. 

Art can be anything as long as you have a broad sense of creativity. 

I don't know how I got my passion in art. 

But all I remember is that I was given a virtual reality device that allows me to see different things and making me learn what the world is about. 

Then there was one image in that virtual reality that was given to me.

A painting.

A masterpiece unlike I've ever seen during my age. 

The Mona Lisa.

I was thought that it was a painting.

An art created by Leonardo Da Vinci.

It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. 

The colors, the shape, the lines.

It's so perfect. 

It opened my eyes. 

And that's what I wanted to do. 

From there I asked one of the instructors to hand me paper and paint in order for me to create the first of many masterpieces that I will create.

At first the instructor refused but I through logical means I told the instructor.

It was test that I wanted to take for myself. 

I even told the instructor that I could recreate the Mona Lisa if I wanted to. 

The instructor agreed and gave me my materials.

And within 5 days of work. 

I recreated the Mona Lisa on a smaller scale. 

The instructors present were impressed with how I managed to do what so few people could even do at this age. 

And that's where my journey of creating art began. 

I Hagimoto Hideki.

The 5th rank of the 6th generation. 

Is born to create art. 

And then I was told about the Masterpiece.

I thought they were referring to art but no. 

It was a boy that was in the previous generation. 

They told me he was the only survivor. 

An emotionless boy. 

I was even shown a picture of him.

Yes, the moment I laid eyes on it. 

I was inspired. 

He's like an empty canvas. 

He's barren wasteland in the form of a human being. 

A boy with no emotions. 

Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.

Who could've thought that something so expressionless and blank could give me more inspiration than before. 

He is devoid of any expression.

It's ironic that he's called the Masterpiece.

Nothing about him was special at least on the surface.