Art class seminar as a substitute teacher for the day

"Nyahaha! We're supposed to be carving Atua's face, not his butt! You know, for just a few extra monthly instalments, Atua's sure to provide you divine inspiration, Toko!"

This chipper but somewhat annoying voice belonged to Hope Peak Academy's substitute art teacher for the day, Angie Yonaga. While she ordinarily studied as a student, the school had deemed Angie proficient enough in this subject to teach it, which led to her getting the opportunity to host her own special seminar. The topic of today: Atua, the God of the Islands. No one knew the first thing about Atua, so of course, carving a likeness of him had proven pretty difficult.

The girl herself stood out even in a room full of eccentric weirdos like these. She was very tan, fitting her island heritage, with white hair, bringing to mind the sand dunes of her islands' beaches. Although her eyes were cute and blue, they had a slightly mad quality to them- perhaps that was just how one looked when one became so close to Atua? Her outfit wasn't very teacherly, consisting of a yellow and black, open-front robe with a white, frilly beach bikini underneath and white slipper-shoes, as well as the saving grace for modesty, a blue-gray pareo mini-skirt around the hips, secured by a cute pink belt.

These details made her seem approachable, while the miniature sculpting hammer she swung around seemed anything but. Of course, nobody was going to get hit by that hammer and killed! Not today, at least.

Presently, she was leaning over the desk of a frustrated girl with big, circular frame glasses and purple hair in two slightly unkempt, unfashionable, long braids. That girl was indeed dressed like a student. Right now, her grayish purple eyes held a squinting, frustrated look while a red flush of anger spread across her face and she grits her teeth. "A... A butt..?! You're saying that my art... smells like a butt?! You're saying that I smell like a b-b-butt?!" she complained, reading even further into the harsh criticism than she should have and interpreting it as a personal insult. "Don't you know that I'm... the Ultimate Writer?! Sh-Shouldn't some of that s-skill transfer over to sculpture too!? And what inst-st-stalments are you talking about!?"

"Blood, blood! Atua likes blood a lot. You should be giving twice a week at least, but if you up to your monthly giving, then carving a sculpture like this will be no problem at all!" Angie explained, gesturing towards a large, tiki head carving that adorned the center of the room. It really was pretty impressive... And it also begged the question of how she got the wood in here to carve it to begin with.

Toko scooted her chair to the left a few times, to escape her teacher's invasion of space. "Get that b-b-belly button out of my face... put a shirt on... and what was that about b-b-b-blood?! I can't stand the sight of b-b-blood...! There's no way I'm giving any...!" she grimaced. However, when she saw who was on her left, she quickly slid her chair back in Angie's direction.

The figure to her left was a smallish boy with a round face, round features, and an obnoxious pompadour haircut like a fried shrimp tail. He was also obnoxiously dressed as a chef, despite this being an art course. This boy was Teruteru, the ultimate cook. "Mmhmhmhm! There's no need to be upset! Some boys like butts," he reassured his classmate, smiling gently while running a comb through his hair like an Elvis impersonator.

"... M-Male butts?!" Toko quipped back.

"Yes, some boys even like male butts," Teruteru remarked with boundless self-confidence, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh... he he... I a-actually don't mind those..."

"Now now! You guys are getting off track! Atua likes comedy, but not too much, not when it distracts from art sermons!" Angie laughed, pushing the two of them apart by putting a hand to each face and shoving in either direction.

"S-S-Sermons?!" Toko complained again.

"Did I say sermons? I meant lessons! Nyahaha!" Angie giggled, spinning as she made her way back to the center of the room. "The truth is, nobody here can really be a witness to the vision of Atua. But if you carve with enough love... you may get close. Yes, much closer than his butt!" the young girl cheered, throwing her hands into the air. A few of her classmates cheered too, either due to her brainwashing or from general enthusiasm for cheering. "But we've got to keep trying! And as your loving prayer-leader-slash-art-teacher, I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get you all carving pieces worth of Atua!"

"Whatever it takes, hm? That beloved phrase of erotic men such as myself... hmmm... hmhmhmhm..." Teruteru chuckled, rubbing his hands together obviously.