just an outsider in the end.

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/18477226.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Category: Gen
Fandom: Assassination Classroom
Character: Karasuma Tadaomi, Korosensei (Assassination Classroom), Irina
Jelavić, Asano Gakuhou, Original Male Character(s), Class 3-E
(Assassination Classroom), God of Death (Assassination Classroom),
Assassination Classroom Ensemble
Additional Tags: References to Depression, Sick Character, Terminal Illnesses, Neglect,
oc is a teacher in 3-E, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Fluff and Angst, No
Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced
Character Death, Mild Language, Slow Burn, Class 3-E as Family
(Assassination Classroom), Protective Class 3-E (Assassination
Classroom), Language of Flowers, Original Character-centric,
Canonical Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Families of
Choice
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of in memory of the ones that live again.
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Inserts, Reincarnated as a original character, Into another world,
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Stats: Published: 2019-04-15 Completed: 2022-09-07 Chapters: 51/51 Words:
103832

just an outsider in the end.

by リリス - riris (arurun)

Summary
 "Look, I really didn't mind the fact that I died and reincarnated into Ansatsu Kyoushitsu. I
didn't really mind that you gave me a hole in the heart. That was a real dick move, but I
didn't complain. So god, Void, whatever, I'm sorry I punched a student. Please recall my
demotion into Class E. Please, the moon literally just exploded and I don't wanna be there!"

Kuma-sensei did not belong here. He knew better than anyone else that he was just an
outsider.

Notes

Life was a bunch of cliches. You know what's worse? Getting reincarnated into an anime--
that is cliche. So, god, why did I have to be the cliche? You couldn't have picked someone
else?
 cliches are cliche.

"So you're telling me," his voice was utterly exasperated, "you found a goddamn guy so you're just
gonna goddamn leave."

His older sister cackled at the choice of wording, rounding a muffler loosely around her neck.

All Naomasa could even remember about her was her hair-- wavy, long to her shoulders-- and in
that peculiar, peculiar shade of brown that was the colour of sand. The colour of his own hair, and a
colour his parents didn't have.

"Sorry, Nao," the girl patted her younger brother on the head with naught a sense of affection in her
touch, "I love him, I really do. But he's..." she hesitated, a secret she failed to let in on, "not a
normal person, you see. And I decided that if it was for him, I'd even throw away my own birth
papers."

Kazumasa, her absolutely unidentical twin (who in fact had black hair,) scoffed. He had been
standing there since who-knows-when, so it was hard to acknowledge the girl was gonna elope if
everyone saw her off on the way.

"Say hi to Mr Boyfriend for me," Kazumasa groaned, leaning against the wall in a show of
resigned arrogance, "tell him he's getting dissected next time I meet him."

"You guys never stop fighting, huh?"

Nao feels his sister's hand leave him-- and solemnly, he knew that would be the last of her.

"Goodbye, Nao," she told him meaningfully, "and goodbye, Kazumasa."

"Yeah," Kazumasa spoke the words Nao could not voice out, "Goodbye, Kazane."

To Nao, this was only the beginning of it. Two years later, Kazumasa would leave too-- before
scurrying back at the knowing of his younger brother suffering a heart failure and landing himself
in the hospital.

Perhaps, Nao came to think his heart defect-- a hole in the heart that unfortunately didn't stay
closed-- was a blessing. It called his family back to his side when he needed him. It also told him
just how little Nao meant to them-- Kazane never returned, and Kazumasa never stayed long.

The Kunomasu family was one that functioned without adult parents. Naomasa was fully ten years
younger than his older siblings, so he was only a teen when the older siblings left their nest,
following their parents' footsteps, leaving the youngest home alone to fend for himself.

Money was sent home each month, and even if his brother were to visit, he wouldn't stay longer
than a week before rushing back out to his work-related business.

Nao lived with a friendly florist as his guardian for the majority of his life. His life was sustained
with sufficient living expenses and his surrogate mother cared for him like he was her own.

Right- enough of that-- I was going somewhere with this story. I had a point going in some
direction, but I've honestly forgotten it now. Will I go back up and retype everything again? No, I
will not. Why?
Simply due to the fact that the point I'm trying to make is literally this-- his life is a fuckin'
compilation of cheesy cliches piled up together to form the ultimate magical sandwich of tragic
backstories.

Y'know what was worse?

He knew his life was just a fucking compilation of cliches.

And how did he know?

Yeah, you've read the summary. You know. He died and he reincarnated, boo-hoo, now he knows
he's lived an entire life before, and now he's in a new world where he has to try and live normally.

Tragic, isn't he?

And he bloody hated it, most especially the fact that his first name is completely ripped off from
some side character from another anime.

He grew up to become a teacher of a school, and that is where this story begins.

"Hey, fork over the cash already, ya wimp!"

The younger student whimpered, shoved down by his larger-sized peer. His bag was snatched, its
contents were dumped and one slim wallet was picked up, its cash emptied and pocketed.

I could not have walked in on anything more cliche, could I?

Nao groaned, stepping off the path and swinging into the goddamn alley for a detour he didn't
wanna take. He crunched a lollipop in his mouth, and clutched a bookbag under his arm. His
brown hair was brushed, gelled back in a farce of professionalism, but the man himself was
anything but.

His clothes were crumpled, not ironed, and he wore no tie for a casual suit. His sleeves were
already rolled up at the start of the day; he had on no socks, and a silver piercing shone on his left
ear.

"Hey, kids," he greeted them casually, "seems like you're having fun."

Someone swore, shooting back at the sight of the intruder. Another cursed the bullied boy for
dallying, and someone was probably running. Following suit with strange shrieks of a bear
monster, the bullies frantically tossed the stolen cash back in the direction of the victim, then
scurried away like rodents.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say anything yet," Nao hollered, but the last of them had left only dust in their
wake. He sighed, exasperated-- "goodness, don't bully if you're gonna scramble at the sight of me,
weaklings!"

Rolling a colourful candy under his tongue, Nao crouched down and bunched up the discarded
school material, trying to fit them back into the bag it came from.

"Here," he shoved it towards the boy, "the entrance ceremony begins in thirty minutes, so do make
sure you come on time."

"Ah--" the boy seemed to have been stuck in a trance-- "uh, thanks, Kuma-sensei."

Kunomasu Naomasa, lovingly referred to as 'Kuma-sensei', is a certified Language Teacher in the

well-renowned Kunugigaoka Junior High. He may lack the etiquette of an elite, but his tenure was
perfectly on the level-- thus, not many had the opportunity of complaint toward his actions.

As long as he did his job, he was one of this school's many well-performing educating
professionals.

"Good morning, Kuma-sensei!" someone-- a boy with dark brown hair, spiked downward strangely
(or was it considered plain, knowing this was an anime world?), he was rushing on into the school,
waving at the teacher briefly before he continued on his way.

"Morning, Isogai," Naomasa responded simply, barely sparing the boy a glance. His head was in
the clouds, considering the classes and lessons he had to lead today-- hm, would he make it in time
for his checkup at four? why the crap did he even need a--

Someone crashed into him, diving right into his back.

Naomasa stumbled, but did not fall. Shiota Nagisa's face was buried in the teacher's back, having
tripped over his feet in his hurry.

"Ah- Kuma-sensei, I'm sorry," Nagisa straightened himself an panic, bowing once in a mixture of a
greeting and an apology, "please excuse me."

Naomasa sighed.

Lifting his head to the skies, he found the moon above him-- high in the faded sky, clear and visible
without a cloud in the distance. A nearly perfect crescent shape was stamped cleanly into the blue--
it almost looked fake.

The uproar of the shattered moon struck the world a couple of weeks ago. The commotion had died
down among the masses-- but simultaneously, the new school year began.

Soon, the assassination classroom would come to be up on that mountain, and all this while,
Naomasa would stay down here in the confinements of this warped elite school as one of its many
personnel involved.

Knowing the ending, Naomasa thought he ought to go about looking for a new place to work. But
for the moment, Naomasa was going to stay down here and try to live his life.

And on all accounts, with all due respect, he is NOT going to get involved.

No, he is not.

His life is already filled with enough cliches as it is and he's dying the fuck out of himself just
existing as an icon of angst potential! He is NOT going up there! Not at the cost of his goddamn
life, even if he's held at gunpoint!

Those were the words he furiously rambled the day before he was officially assigned to class 3-
E; so I suspect he had triggered a flag in the most cliche way possible-- by jinxing it.
 a 'portent' is an omen.
Chapter Notes

Tragedy strikes you in ways you probably could've avoided if you minded your own
business. But I'm a teacher! I'm supposed to be a responsible person and do what my
job description entails!

Don't try catching fireworks in the rain.

Someone's ridiculous hipster shirt once said something like that, pretending to sound cool. It made
absolutely no sense. Why fireworks? Can't it be thunder? That made more sense, if you tried going
into the water, you'd die. Fireworks don't land in the water, they kinda just dissipate into the
atmosphere or something.

But at the same time, why would you try catching thunder in the goddamn rain, did you mother not
teach you to not go swimming in a thunderstorm? Is your brain alright?

I'm quite sure it isn't, which brought us to this chapter's opening.

Naomasa rested his chin on his palm, trying his best to think of some interesting, tricky topic he
could get his students to write an essay on. Seeing as they were Junior High students getting ready
for high school and better yet college, he needed something difficult, yet holding infinite potential
in values. Something vague yet rich.

Seeing as the author of this story is a no-life student with little to no interest in this shit, he's having
a hard time trying to come up with things.

God, why did he take up this job? Why is he in charge of the English pop quiz next week? Who
suggested this? Who's the idiot that only told him about it today? Right, Principal Asano.

The lights in the office flickered on, surprising him. His coffee had gone cold, and it was nearly an
hour into a new day. He was the only one left in the office, the last of the overtime victims taking
off two hours ago.

"I see you are still here, Mr Kunomasu," Asano Gakuho stood by the doorway.

The tall, brown-haired man was suited up neatly, looking like being in school at this hour of the
day was just a normal thing for him.

Nao stood up, "yes, sir-- my apologies, my work unfortunately ran a little later than usual. I will
take my leave as soon as I can," he insisted, fumbling over his words. Nao kept his head hung low,
bowing in a form of feared respect.

Naomasa did not like talking to that man. As much as he was holding a fairly stable spot in this
school, Asano Gakuho had always been an eccentric character-- as someone that never liked
talking to someone of authority, Naomasa felt threatened just being in the face of him.

Like he'd eat the younger teacher alive-- like he was standing in front of a hungry lion or
something, he didn't like to be there. He wanted little to do with Mr Board Chairman.
"Please do not overwork yourself," Asano's smile was given out of kindness, but it did not feel
friendly at all, "I would hate to see a teacher as prominent as you fall sick, after all."

"I am grateful for your concern, sir," Naomasa gave him a smile-- not as much out of happiness
than of polite awareness-- Gathering up his belongings with his shaky hands, Nao closed his
laptop, gathered his stationary, and shifted his books into his bag.

The last of his coffee was gulped down quickly-- leaving the cup on his desk, he passed the
chairman at the door, bidding a polite goodbye as he apologized once again for the late stay on
school grounds.

He made no move to question why the principal would be in school at this hour-- it was difficult to
bring up, and hell, Naomasa wasn't interested either. He wouldn't wanna trigger some weird event
flag by prying too far in.

One golden rule of the animeverse-- you should never meet up with the main antagonist by
coincidence, especially those breed of antagonists that turn into a good guy halfway through. Those
guys are teeming with death flags, so I infer from the wise words of one not-historical Okita
something.

Naomasa left the school grounds-- looking back once to notice the Board Chairman seeing him off
from the chairman's office window. Their eyes meeting, he waved. Nao waved back.

"Sorry, Sakurai-san, yeah," Nao mumbled into his phone, the lady on the other end voicing herself
snappy and angered, "I missed my appointment, I know-- I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I was...
yes, I know it's important, but--"

His home-- the Sakurai Florist's-- was about a ten-minute's walk from the school.

Still, it was the frightful hour of the ox.

Naomasa was in no way scared of the dark or anything-- nor was he afraid of getting robbed-- he
may be beansprout-armed, but he could pack a mean punch if he wanted to!

However vague, he held memories of his previous lifetime-- the life of a girl that lived through to
college, yet died on one dark and stormy night-- it made him cautious of his surroundings in such a
quiet hour.

"No shit!"

The loud voice gave Naomasa a horrible fright, and the teacher flinched away as laughter erupted
in the very same direction-- an alley.

"Duude, there's no way we'd ever."

"Just for today, y'know?"

In pure curiosity-- these voice sounded like teenagers, after all; as a teacher, he couldn't just ignore
them.

He took an untimely turn into the alley, tripped over his feet, and yelped disgracefully as he spilled
his belongings over the ground in clumsiness.
"Oh, fuck."

There was silence. Looking up, he found a small gathering of students under a lonely street light.
Some of them held cigarettes, others were slouched about in sloppy dressing. They didn't wear
their uniforms, but as a teacher of many classes, Naomasa knew exactly who they were.

"You guys are first years," he muttered with a curse under his tongue. Picking himself up, trying to
forget his inelegant stumble, he dusted himself.

The students were similar to the irritable bunch from the morning-- bold, courageous, rebellious--
and still not understanding the hierarchy system of this elite academy.

Potential Future 3-E students, Naomasa defined them, like Terasaka, people who don't understand
the concept of this school yet.

They tutted, "it's Kuma-sensei," one blond boy raised a sarcastic tone, "fuck off, teacher, don't you
know you ought to turn your eyes away in situations like these?"

Naomasa wanted to cringe-- here it was, and it made no goddamn sense.

He sighed, picking up his bookbag and stepping closer to the four teenagers, "you made it into
Kunugigaoka, and you waste your opportunity like this? You'll end up in the E class, y'know."

They rolled their eyes, clicking their tongues.

"I'm sure you've seen the treatment they receive in the ceremony today," Naomasa lectured them,
"I'd say we all would hate to end up there, am I wrong?"

None were really listening-- they were being obnoxious kids. Naomasa's words may only sound
like any other nagging teacher's complaints to them. Naomasa knew there was no merit in
continuing his speech.

Reaching out, Naomasa grasped at a boy's wrist-- the boy flinched, shocked, but was unable to pull
away. The cigarette was snatched away, and dropped, where the teacher stepped to extinguish the
flare. Naomasa took the cancer stick from the other boy's mouth and put it out on the wall.

"Wha-- what the fuck was that for?!" the boy was angered now, as if the answer were not obvious.

"It's against school rules to be smoking, kids," Naomasa smiled, a pretense of professionalism
every teacher needed to have, "and it's also against school rules to be out this late away from your
homes. Let's play nice and go home, alright? Your teacher here's really tired too."

Please fucking go home. Please fucking go home.

"Uhm, sir?" the blond boy had the gall to laugh, exasperated, "out of school grounds... I'm just
some roadside punk; and you're just a shitty old man."

Some stepped into place behind Naomasa, as if to surround him--

A threat flow thick in the air, and Naomasa now knew the kids had little intention to oblige to any
rules-- much less school rules.

Blondie stepped off the trash can he sat, on, picking out something from his back pocket-- a small,
handheld, battery-charged taser gun.

He held it like it was a phone-- obviously an amateur. He flickered it on-- the silver-blue sparks of
electrodes flickering to life. He raised it near to the teacher tauntingly.

Naomasa chortled, unaffected by the "what, your mommy bought you a taser? Is that considered
cool with your gang or something?"

"You can laugh, but you won't be laughing anytime soon," Blondie groaned, "these things really
hurt, y'know? I've used it before."

And he wasn't exactly wrong.

Teenager were mortifying beings sometimes, and electrocution hurts. Naomasa thought he saw the
goddamn taser, but their richass parents apparently bought them two.

It began as a cold electric current that shot up like a knife through the rest of his senses-- then it
forced his muscles to contract past their limits and bound them in place. Pain was horrendous, but
the numbness and the overwhelming frustration overtook him as he found himself on the ground,
incapacitated.

The kids laughed in victorious glee, thinking they'd won. After all-- what could this teacher do?
This was an alley, in the wee hours of the morning. And they were students of an elite school. If
they all played dumb, the teacher would be in a bad spot.

Naomasa knew that-- so the irritation only bubbled into rage. Laying on the ground, unable to even
budge an inch, the startling depth of unconsciousness beginning to flood over his gaze--

His fist clenched-- he bit down on his lip.

Both muscles should've been completely numb, but he could move them. The voltage was a little
weak, perhaps-- because he was recovering already.

The exhaustion that devastated his senses were tempting.

There was an ache at his chest. A very bad ache that grew like a deep, throbbing clench-- he heard
his heart in his ears, the tune thrumming his brain.

It was somehow a little hard to breathe.

He'd felt like this before-- this same discomfort that just made him want to vomit from the
nauseating unease that boiled in his chest. But there was nothing to throw up.

There was only endless throe.

Naomasa thought of the last time he'd felt like this-- ah, yes, he remembered, quite clearly-- the one
memory of his past life that he remembered much more clearly than anything else.

Her fear, her screams, her cries-- on that stormy night-- crossing the street, a careless truck that
drove himself into a telephone pole-- and the wires that came at her like a swinging razor that
burned with the calls of death.

Then, darkness.

Naomasa stood up, groaning and leaning heavily on the wall. He did not like this, and he felt so
fucking sick he just wanted to go home and sleep.

"Fuuck," he grunted, catching the attention of those irritably insane teens, "you guys made me
remember something incredibly shitty."
The gang had turned around, alarmed. They were annoyed, too-- because, damn, can't this teacher
get off their case already?

Sure, Naomasa would've, but they started it!

"The fuck?" they swore back, "didn't work, dude!"

"Then you do it this time!" his pal yelled back, irritated.

They seemed to be in disagreement, overconfidence booming within them. Naomasa was in no way
someone that could beat anyone in a fight, much less anyone with a taser or some form of a
weapon or something.

But his ears were ringing and he was just tired. Maybe he should've went for that stupid checkup
this afternoon, for some reason his chest was hurting and his fingers were cold.

"Well, sir," the blond punk came up before him again-- a smug, jeering smile, "we kinda need you
to stay down for a while longer. If you can, please forget our faces too!"

Naomasa was too far gone for calm.

Two quick steps forward, he sent one satisfying punch at the little imbecile's face.

The boy was blown back far-- and now, he was angry too. With one raging warcry, blue electrical
discharge flew as he thrust the taser forward.

Keeping his calm, Naomasa swerved to the side. Fixing his pivot on one foot, effectively dodging
the straightforward charge at him.

He grabbed the boy's wrist tightly, his other hand locking its place at the base of the boy's neck--
then, with a strength fueled by a surge of angry adrenaline, Nao pulled the boy forward and pushed
him down to the ground.

Naomasa breathed out a sigh of relief, slightly proud.

"Not too bad for a weeb imitation," he muttered to himself.

He cast a glance at the others overlooking the scene from the side-- they were stunned with
disbelief, locked in place and not daring to move.

"So, you said it. Outside school grounds, I'm just an old man and you're just a roadside punk,"
Naomasa returned the words.

Twisting the taser from the boy's arm, he calmly switched it off, bending the boy's arm in a painful
hold as he stood calmly against the group of punks before him.

"So, what do you say we all go home and forget this bullshit ever happened?"
 in tragedies, the good are exiled.
Chapter Notes

A teacher punching a student probably isn't a good idea. Especially if the school's
image is more important than what really went on that day. But really, getting sent into
3-E instead of jail? That's plot convenience right there.

"I must say I'm disappointed, Mr Kunomasu."

Nao stood before the principal in the dimly lit office. He was scrutinized with only anger and
disappointment, watch little move Asano Gakuho made was met with an uncomfortable shiver
rushing down his skin.

"I believe you have understood the consequences of your actions," Asano did not sound pleased--
the details of the issue shimmered in the background, burning bright as those eyes Asano had. It
was like being stared down by the devil himself-- mortifying.

Naomasa kept his head down-- there was no other way.

At best, his educational license would be revoked. At worst, he would be filed a lawsuit and would
have to serve in prison on assault.

"The five students that were involved have been suspended for a week for evident reasons," Asano
helpfully supplied, "as for you... here we are."

Suspended, not expelled, huh?

At the very least, they didn't get off the case scot-free. Perhaps, one of them caved and told Asano
the truth of the event-- but that didn't mean Naomasa would be any less guilty.

For an educational professor to raise a hand on a kid-- that was in no way right, in any situation.
And Naomasa knew that.

He gulped, nervous.

"I trust you were late for a hospital checkup this morning?" Asano inquired, surprisingly politely.

Naomasa flinched, raising his head slightly-- "Y-Yes, sir..."

"Well," Asano hands were folded-- his smile was eerie, a simple facial expression serving as a
threat-- "I suppose we cannot condemn you, in honour of the injuries you sustained."

Huh?

"Excuse me-- I'm sorry, what?" Nao gawked.

"I've heard that Class E up on the hill have been suffering issues of students being unable to settle
and behave against their teachers," Asano explained briefly, as if it were a matter of fact all of a
sudden-- wait, why is Class E involved? Sir?
Unable to settle and behave against their teachers, Nao considered carefully, he didn't remember
much of the teachers up there having trouble warming up-- ah, is Bitch-sensei already around? No,
even so, she settled down quite well in the following period of time...

"They've been a recent hassle, unfortunately, due to very unforeseen circumstances," Asano
simpered, "it would concern me if someone trustworthy was not by their side to tug on their reins
once in a while."

"Pardon my... rudeness, sir," Naomasa stuttered over his words, concerned, "but was not Yukimura
Aguri-sensei in charge of the class prior to her passing? I fail to recall if there was a new
establishment of a teacher in charge of 3-E."

He was sweating profusely, not knowing quite clear why he was trying to half-lie his way around
the situation-- yes, he can't show signs of knowing Koro-sensei yet, that's common sense.

"Is that so?" Asano seemed unaffected, strangely accepting the question as a thing he could just
brush off, "well, I think I've decided on the man."

Naomasa found his lips curving upward, blasting with exasperating bewilderment.

"Congratulations, Mr Kunomasu, we have decided against bringing this incident to court, and you
may keep your teacher's license," Asano reached for the phone, as if it was a done decision, "so I
hope to see you in Class E from tomorrow onward."

Okay.

No, not okay!!

"Wait-- hold up!!" Naomasa panicked, "sir, what of the students? Their parents? Surely, they
wouldn't be approving of this in any--"

"Please rest assured, I will have my ways," Asano consoled the teacher, "I believe you would much
prefer this alternative in comparison to court, am I wrong?"

"Well, yes, but--" Nao was freaking out further, all his senses willing him off the course of
swearing and into the course of composing a concrete response, "sir, as honoured as I am to receive
this pardon, I fail to see the reason you would... subject me to this... uh, biased treatment."

No no what in the holy hell is going on

As far as logic goes this is pushing it

"As you've mentioned," Asano smiled, "it has come to my attention that Class E currently lacks
supervision from our school. I wish for you to keep them in check, that is all."

Fuck, am I in a bloody fanfic?

Is the government okay with this?!

I can't just say yes to this, can I? I'm not supposed to know about the octopus on the hill, but I know
the government wouldn't be pleased to have me up there and-- like--

going up there would mean me getting caught up in the Assassination Classroom, right?

Fuck no! I literally just--

Naomasa was no assassin and in no way was he was combatant. Going up there as a normal teacher
would be many forms of just plain odd.

"Do I..." he scratched his cheek nervously, "have the right to refuse?"

Asano's smile brimmed ever more cheerful, "yes, you may. If you're willing to risk some of your
lifetime behind bars, of course."

He didn't need to go for class in the afternoon, so he just went back home.

"You're early."

Ms Sakurai was a florist that really didn't do much except being a florist. With mellow auburn hair
styled into the ironic side ponytail, it was hard for anyone to not like her as a person.

"I'm home," Nao mumbled, "great news, I got demoted."

"That's terrific," Ms Sakurai smiled, drying her hands on her peach apron, "you're alive!"

Nao stumbled, "you always manage to be more negative than me, huh?"

Gently cradling a bouquet of multicoloured roses in her arms, she approached the man with a
smile, picking out one that bloomed a false shade of yellow and offering it to him.

Nao accepted the golden rose with mixed emotions--

"Jealousy?" Nao asked, "Or Frienship?"

Ms Sakurai shook her head.

"Uh, I don't know the yellow ones all that well... Remembrance?" Nao tried again.

Ms Sakurai giggled, rubbing her (surrogate) son on the head, "it's the promise of a new
beginning, Nao. Also, welcome back."

His gelled hair now sticking strangely, Nao groaned, reaching up to fix it.

"There's nothing delightful in this new beginning, Ms Sakurai," Nao sighed, "I'd rather have it
symbolise something more emotionally genuine."

Ms Sakurai picked out a blue rose.

"Unattainable, huh," Nao mused, taking the rose with unconcealed repulse, "give yourself a pink
one from me, Ma'am."

"You're welcome, dear," Ms Sakurai chuckled.

Nao's room was on the second floor, overlooking the street. It was a small space, but it was where
he'd lived for a decade.

He was only in his late twenties, but occasionally he felt like he was a hundred years old.
Just in the morning he got a lecture from the doctors in the hospital about his goddamn heart--
something about putting him in for an operation? He didn't listen. He was given a new dosage of
medicine and sent off with strict reminders of his next checkup.

Then came Board Chairman Asano.

Naomasa considered leaping off the building now.

Genuinely and with all his soul, he hated the idea of being near that class. Sure, he was born into
this world that strongly dictated from an anime, and he's a teacher of the main character's school;
but he was content being a teacher in the main building, living his life peacefully with Ms Sakurai.

Why would he want to be caught up in that drama up on the mountain? What would he even do?
What can he even do?

If he triggered the Butterfly Effect, there would be hell to pay. No, what if the Temporal Paradox
applies? No, get this Steins Gate bullshit out of my head, this isn't that kind of story!

Naomasa sighed.

Guess he'll just have to wait and see what happens up there.

Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing a large, white stain
on his skin. Splashed from the left shoulder, spilling to his chest above his heart, stretching to end
around his elbow-- bright white against dark beige skin.

It was a mark that branched out a thousand times, forming an art resembling an abstract winter
tree. Or-- the scientific referral of this shape-- a Lichtenberg figure. He noted the edge of the
branches, little white fingers pooling like a thousand hands reaching out hungrily toward his heart.

They say birthmarks are a symbol of how you died in your past life.

Nao came to the conclusion that Afterlife God loved to be gaudy.

 climb up the hill of death.
Chapter Notes

Nao wishes he'd have a heart attack. Like, right now, because he doesn't want to make
the rest of the godawful climb up this mountain. This is torturous.

"I regret... everything."

Nao's suit jacket was off of him before he even started climbing. Five steps up the hill, he realized
he was never going to make it. Code red, he was already late, so there were no students en route to
school he could ask to help him out.

His heart began to clench, shrinking itself with the cries of reluctance in response to the exercise. It
refused to supply the meager oxygen needed for his cells to-- respite and provide energy-- ugh,
thinking about all this scientifically was a way of coping with the pain he felt.

Or maybe his brain was just giving out and he was genuinely going mad.

His legs resigned, and he leaned against a tree, deciding a break would be wise.

He was barely halfway up the mountain, but he felt like he'd run a marathon around the whole
world. His head was pounding and his breath was erratic.

This was beyond the level of being unfit.

The goddamn E-class Mountain is ridiculous!

"I came here," he choked, "to teach-- not for a bloody hike--"

He didn't know how he'd make it up here on a daily basis. He didn't think much of it the day
before, but this was impossible. He was sure the Board Chairman knew of his physical health
condition-- but at the same time, maybe he just didn't care...

Nao sat down under a tree, leaving the path to hide under a shade.

Can't he like, just suddenly appear in the class every day like how it seems to be in every episode--
he sighed, head hanging down in defeat.

"I wanna go home."

"Korosensei, what's... Karasuma-sensei doing out there?"

Kayano Kaede, seated by the window, raised her voice in concern. They were in the midst of 3rd
period, Modern Literature, when she noticed a very familiar government agent standing at the
entrance of the 3-E building.

His suit jacket was at his arm, the sun having been up for a while. A clipboard hung sorely at his
fingertips and his feet tapped irritatingly impatient.
"Even though it's so hot outside..." Sugino Tomohito turned his attention outside as well, many
other following suit, "is he waiting for someone?"

Korosensei was a little displeased at their diverted attention to his class, but he simply sighed with
patience. "Well, I've heard we were supposed to greet a new teacher today, I suppose Mr
Karasuma is waiting on him to show up."

"A new teacher?"

Korosensei responded with a delighted 'uhn!', "apparently something happened back in campus, so
he's getting transferred up here. It's a teacher from main campus."

The mention of the main building gave everyone a seething rise in their chest. Most, if not all the
main campus teachers were the same-- they were uncomfortably discriminating, and the fact that
they were students of Class E would only be pressured down further if they came up to this
mountain.

But no-- weren't the tables turned? Why would a prideful teacher from main campus be sent here?
A demotion? Tragic.

"Wait, even though you're here?" Isogai Yuuma was surprised-- surely, no normal teacher could
just be shipped up here with this octopus around! "Didn't the government have anything to say
about it?"

"About that," Karasuma Tadaomi was suddenly at the window now, overhearing their conversation
and deciding to come into the shade for a while, "the Board Chairman was quite insistent about it.
Apparently the new teacher's gotten caught up with the law."

"With the what?" Kimura Masayoshi gawked, "a Kunugigaoka teacher. What did he do?!"

Karasuma sighed, scratching the back of his head in resignation, "the government are unfortunately
not in a good position to go against him, so we had no choice aside from submitting to his decision,
on the condition this new teacher adheres by the same rules you students would."

Akabane Karma leaned over the window, interested now, "sounds awesome!" he mused, a grin
crawling up his face as he plotted-- ah, revenge; sweet sweet revenge against all those irritating
teachers back in the stupid main building-- "So, when's he coming?"

"Well, that's the thing--" Korosensei turns to the clock, concern in his tone as his face falls sullen
in concern, "he should have been here by homeroom, but as we can see, he's nowhere to be found."

"You think he skipped?" Nakamura Rio suggested snarkily, sarcasm high in her tone, "I mean, this
is the E class after all. It's kind of a humiliating demotion, isn't it?"

Karasuma groaned, muttering words of a waste of time. He turned back to the clipboard-- one page
of the new teacher's personal data, given by the Board Chairman for brief reference.

"Is that the new teacher?" Kayano Kaede spotted the clipboard, leaning over to take a closer look,
"well, since he's a teacher from main building, wouldn't some of you guys recognize him? Lesse..."

Now basically everyone was absorbed in the missing new teacher. As much as Korosensei was
devastated, he was keen to figure the situation-- a new teacher meant new company, after all. Most
likely someone with superior authority over him? Oh no--

"Uh, his name's... Mr Kunomasu," Kayano read out, Karasuma turning the board toward her so she
could read easier, "Mr Kunomasu Naomasa."

It was like glass shattered in the atmosphere-- the entire class aside from Kayano and the teachers
just froze up in utmost horror.

"Huh?" Korosensei noticed the frozen silence, "what's wrong, everyone?"

Mouths hung agape and eyes widened in dread--

"This is bad," Karma chortled nervously, breaking the silence.

"You think he's alive?" Terasaka wasn't sure.

"Sugino, Kimura, let's go!" Isogai was dashing out the door, Sugino Tomohito and Kimura
Masayoshi tailing after him without question.

"Huh?! Wait, class??" Korosensei freaked out.

"Oh, you saved me," Nao sighed, leaning into Kimura's back.

Sugino was holding Naomasa's bag; and Isogai was holding his jacket. They were making their
way up after finding their teacher contemplating life and watching clouds in melancholy
somewhere halfway up the hill.

In actuality, his water had run out somehow and he was contemplating his will, but they didn't need
to know that.

Being screamed at by kids from a distance was mortifying, but so was getting pulled into a
piggyback against his will all of a sudden, so he just gave up and waited for the trip to end.

"You could've called," Isogai chuckled, "we would've helped you up before class began."

"I overslept, you see," Nao groaned, "things are hard when you get yelled at by the Board
Chairman for socking a kid in the face."

"You what?" Sugino and Kimura were utterly appalled.

"It's a hassle to explain, so pretend you didn't hear that," Naomasa grumbled, "congrats, Kuma-
sensei belongs to you guys from now on. Good night."

"As much as we're happy to hear that we have you," Sugino sighed, "...wait, are you sleeping?"

"I'm falling unconscious," Naomasa insisted, his voice faltering as his head hung at the boy's
shoulder. "Let's just say I lack oxygen and am getting a heat stroke, so I'm fainting from the
excessive temperature rising inside my body. Science. Won't get you full marks in a test but I've
always hated biology so it doesn't matter."

"It's spring and it's still morning!" Kimura was mortified, "you're just using the excuse to take a
nap, aren't you?"

Naomasa tutted.

"He just clicked his tongue!" Sugino reported.

"Then I'm dying, good night."

"Kimura, run up!"

 greet the cast from hell.

Korosensei's laugh was oddly nostalgic. It sent shivers of delights down Nao's spine, but the bits
that tinged at his shoulders, leaving their mark for just a moment longer, felt a tad melancholic. It
was laughable and contagious, so much he didn't bother trying to act surprised toward the 2-metre
tall octopus.

A two-meter tall abomination, with an uncomfortably round face, a stupid long graduation-robe-
looking thing with a stupid wide tie at his neck, matched with a tiny graduation hat.

"It is very nice to meet you, Kunomasu-sensei," he had introduced himself, greeting the younger
with his grin of impossible proportions.

"The pleasure is mine, sir," Naomasa smiled back, lifting his head up. Turning to Mr Karasuma,
Naomasa bowed and greeted the government agent as well.

Naomasa was below average in height for his age, but he stood well normal as an adult. Despite
that, Korosensei's height was towering and dominated the classroom. Naomasa couldn't help but be
spiteful that he had to be shorter than Karasuma, too.

"Kuma-sensei, are you alright?" someone spoke up from the back.

"Well, I don't seem to be dying, so I think I am?" Naomasa returned the question, "Kimura ran all
the way up here with me on his back, so I think he'll need a little longer to recover from that."

Kimura Masayoshi held up a shaky thumbs-up of reassurance.

"Kuma-sensei, don't you find that-- thing, uh, Korosensei-- weird at all?" Maehara Hiroto wasn't
sugarcoating himself-- his referral of the teacher as a 'thing' made the Octopus sob.

"I couldn't decide if I should freak out or faint in shock," Naomasa's answer was bright, beaming
and immediate, "so I decided to just let it be."

Shiota Nagisa couldn't help but chuckle in resignation, "Kuma-sensei's as carefree as ever, huh."

"I prefer to refer to myself as a cliche-hating anomaly," Naomasa seemed to boast of himself, a
hand at his chest, "and I dislike overdramatic conflicts. They take up too many sentences for no
development. Not a wise literary device to implement in a story."

"Are you having a lesson all of a sudden?" Yada Touka pointed out.

The class erupted into a strained laughter-- hesitance was in the atmosphere. Why was Kunomasu
Naomasa sent up here? They had no way of knowing. And Naomasa couldn't offer an answer better
than the fact it was simply one of Asano Gakuho's whims.

Naomasa was out of place in the assassination classroom. Most of them were sullen 'failures' of the
school that was supposed to no longer have anything to do with this teacher-- Nao wasn't going to
partake in the E-class discrimination up here-- but that didn't mean it wasn't true. Now, Nao would
have to be a part of the discriminated.

And well, he had to figure out ways to deal with it.

"I was a little nervous, but I've taught most of your normal classes in the previous years, haven't I?"
Nao took a spot at the teacher's table, speaking up and catching the attention of the students that
didn't really feel too up to the situation, "although the environment's been altered a little, I know
that in truth none of you have changed much as who you are."

This made a few lift their heads in interest.

"Well, it seems there are a few unfamiliar face as well--" Naomasa chuckled, casting a glance at
Kayano Kaede-- a green-haired girl who wore her shoulderlength hair in high twintails-- "everyone
calls me Kuma-sensei, so I hope you'd call me that too. It's a little late, but I'll be taking over
Modern Lit and Japanese from today onward, do go easy on me!"

Korosensei's infinite tentacles slithered messily as he picked up Naomasa's book back, a comb, hair
gel?? and a tie--

"Well said, Mr Kunomasu, we all do look forward to having you around henceforth!" he grinned,
and in the next instant his tentacles were just zooming around Naomasa at a sonic pace.

Nao's hair had gotten messy on the route up, but Korosensei had fixed it so neat it actually felt very
uncomfortable. But to Nao's dismay, a tie was fitted into his neck.

A mirror was held before him, as if Korosensei was trying to say so so how do you look how do
you look, amazing, aren't I?

The Octopus' grin looked smug and proud, as if he was waiting for a word of praise.

"Thanks very much, sir," Nao's hand went casually to the tie, pulling it away from the button--
Korosensei's soft squishy cold tentacle materialised at Naomasa's grip, holding him from taking it
off.

Nao's other hand reached up, tugging the tie downward-- Korosensei reached something like ten of
his tentacles to stop his attempts, "Noo, please keep it on!"

Karasuma pinched the bridge of his nose, ailing a headache as he realized there wasn't going to be a
nice civilised interaction around.

The students watched, too baffled to do anything else. I mean, do you usually see a teacher fighting
with an octopus over a goddamn tie?

"Let me take it off, dammit!" Naomasa snapped, and with one burst of strength, he won over ten
weak squishy mollusc arms, gripping the soft fabric of the tie with lowkey anger as he face the
octopus.

"I'm not putting on a tie," he growled, seething, "thanks for your kind gesture."

The Octopus, face turning blue in sadness, sobbed in the corner, "I thought it looked good on you,"
he whined, "you didn't have to reject it so hard..."

Naomasa's bright and beaming demeanor now shattered in the eyes of the students, Karasuma was
utterly confused about this new character. The fact that he had little reaction to Korosensei was off
in itself-- but Karma didn't react much to the teacher either, so... Not to say that Karma is normal in
any way.

But someone getting along with Korosensei to engage in a quarrel like this was a first. Even
Karasuma wanted nothing but to put a knife in the irritating Octopus.
"I'll wear it, if it's a little less warm out, alright?" Naomasa sighed, "if I wear this now, I'd get a heat
stroke."

Now he's trying to console the octopus, everyone was taken aback.

He crouched down beside the large yellow abomination, looking over it regretfully like it was a
spoiled brat that needed care.

"Stop being so down, I'll give you some candy or something, geez!"

Karasuma was a government agent. He was tall, strict, and his hair was spiked upward strangely, I
hope it's gelled, I don't know. He always wore a suit, complete with a tie-- Naomasa had given up
on the suit jacket and vowed never to wear that thing again-- despite the weather.

"Huh? I'm getting this too?"

Naomasa held the strangely weighty knife in his hand-- it was green, felt smooth as plasticine but
had the consistency of rubber.

S.A.A.U.S.O.

The words were white and printed on the flat of the blade, a strange marking that probably meant
something to the military, but Naomasa didn't know what it meant.

He gripped the handle carefully, rubbing his finger on the bolster, the heel, the grip and the guard-
- he held the edged of the knife and bend it like a ruler to see how far it'd go, but it seemed like he
could coil it into a swiss roll and it's still work fine.

"Huh? you know what that is?" Karasuma seemed baffled.

Naomasa flinched-- "I- I uh, read it in the briefing report the government sent me!"

Sure enough, he had gotten a short acknowledgement of what and who exactly Korosensei was-- a
strange Octopus that appeared not a week or so ago, claiming to have destroyed the moon-- and
consequently, threatened to blow up the Earth in the coming march.

It was unknown why he even willingly came up to Class E, but the government had little option
but to take that chance at the risk of planet Earth.

Even if it meant making Junior High Students become assassins, they had to.

"Do these really work on him?" Naomasa asked, referring to Korosensei-- "toy green daggers."

"Personally, I'm not too sure why it works," Karasuma mumbled honestly, "but he gave it to us,
and nothing else works, so we're taking it."

Naomasa placed the Anti-Sensei Knife on the desk.

"So, do you hate me, Mr Karasuma?" Naomasa asked, "I came out of nowhere, interrupting
government efforts, creating a hassle for your work. A nuisance, aren't I?"

Karasuma was silent.

"It's fine, you can be honest," Naomasa chuckled, "I have no skills, nor can I handle any form of
sport due to my condition. There is virtually no way I can contribute to this assassination."

Naomasa looked out the window, finding nothing but the quiet. The nature. The emptiness, the
solitude, and the separation of Class 3-E.

Now, he was a part of that-- he found it hard to sink in. As much as the whole assassination thing
was hard to take in, the fact that he was sent into this old campus meant it was a devastating,
terrible demotion.

He thought being a teacher was his calling-- maybe now, he realized he had failed in that too.

"You may have been out of our plans, but in my personal view, you are no different from any of the
students that were caught up in this issue unwillingly," Karasuma spoke up, picking up the knife
and walking toward Naomasa again.

Karasuma pushed the knife into Naomasa's hand meaningfully-- with one strong gaze that did not
really mean anything deep, Karasuma excused himself and left the room.

Naomasa burst into laughter.

"Too serious!" he guffawed, "Mr Karasuma's way too serious!"

Holding the Anti-Sensei knife in his hand, Naomasa touched the tip, felt the spine-- and sighed. He
guessed there was no helping the situation, then.

But maybe, he felt a little better about himself now.

 forging temporary bonds, for what?

"Kayano Kaede, was it?"

Naomasa approached the girl as she sat down by a tree, a short break during PE class. Perhaps
because the girl knew she was sweaty and probably stank, she inched aside as the teacher came to
sit beside her.

"Kuma-sensei," she addressed.

Unlike the rest, Kayano Kaede had only transferred into Kunugigaoka for a short period of time.
Even so, she had fallen into Class E under the same notoriety as everyone-- low grades? rebellious
behaviour? It would be insensitive to question.

"So," Nao made himself smile, opening a lollipop to enjoy, "are you enjoying school?"

Typical teacher question, but Nao really didn't know a better way to start a conversation. Well,
Kayano was a conversation bringer. She'd make something happen.

"Uhn!" her response was spirited, "everyone's a little strange, and Korosensei's the weirdest of
them all, but it's not a bad class."

Her smile was gentle, a slight curve. Her hair fell gently at her shoulder, clustering at her neck in
its strange, teal shade. Nao thought of her as an adorable girl-- after all, she was small, petite, and
had a charming personality.

If he didn't know better, that is.

"Is that so?" Nao felt happy for her.

I want to think that your smiles, at least, were real, Kayano.

"That's right, Ms Sakurai told me she was making pudding today," Nao spoke up, pretending to be
talking to himself.

"Pudding?!" Kayano's eyes lit up, alarmed.

Nao chuckled, leaning over a little, subtly closing the distance between them. "You want some? I'll
treat you to a few tomorrow, our secret!"

"Really?" Kayano was delighted.

"I smell a secret!" Korosensei materialised before them, eyes glittering diamonds making the two
simultaneously shriek in absolute horror.

Akabane Karma was a little difficult to approach.

He didn't have a good experience with teachers-- what with the dumb hierarchy of Kunugigaoka
and all-- so although he viewed Naomasa as 'the better of the pack', Naomasa was still considered a
member of the two-faced badgers in school.

Carrying a stack of books down the hallway during lunch, Naomasa spotted the red-haired boy in
the distance, sipping on a pack of strawberry milk.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, in pure coincidence-- and oops, Karma couldn't just ignore him
now, could he? Reluctantly, Karma approached the brown-haired teacher and offered his help.

Nervous but grateful, Naomasa accepted the offer.

"Hey, sensei, what did you do to get up here?"

Naomasa was surprised that Karma was the one to bring up a conversation. As casual a question it
seemed, Naomasa feared that his response would be accountable for Karma's impression of him
forever.

Karma hated teachers-- because in this world of discrimination, the law was to glorify those with
good grades. Justice was to protect those who lagged at the end. Law came over justice in this
world-- and Karma came right in the face of that reality.

A 'teacher' dies the moment they fail in the eyes of a 'student'; that was the belief Akabane
Karma held firmly in his heart. Unfortunately, Naomasa had already crossed the line when he
raised his hand against a child.

"Board Chairman Asano acknowledged me as a teacher-- an educational professor," Naomasa

admitted regretfully, "but he saw me unfit for his regime, thus, he sent me away."

That was one reason Naomasa had concocted after deep thought.

Asano Gakuho was a man that was hard to read. He removed his own obstacles with his own
power, and created solutions with only words. He saw issues quickly and thought up ways to
overcome them-- and no matter how crazy, how underhanded it seemed, he would play it out
personally.

Maybe Naomasa was just a piece of the puzzle. Or perhaps, Nao was just one of many little
obstacles Asano cleared away without thinking much of. Naomasa had no way of knowing.

"Being a teacher's a little harder than I thought," Naomasa chuckled, scratching his cheek
bashfully, "after all, I'm forced to be an adult no matter the situation."

Naomasa had a point. He was going somewhere with this.

He forgot about it halfway through his speech-- and had no choice but to leave it as it were. Lost
thoughts never came back to him, after all. There was no reason to chase after it so desperately.

"Well, I just did what I thought was just," Naomasa believed, "sorry if I rambled."

Karma remained silent-- but Naomasa noticed the hostile look in his gaze had softened. Perhaps
Karma was genuinely uninterested now-- but Naomasa wanted to think that Karma had understood
his teacher just a little better.

They entered a classroom, settling the books down on the teacher's desk.

"Thanks for helping me take these in, Akabane," Nao called to the boy as he excused himself,
"also, I swiped the wasabi and mustard in your pocket because they're dangerous."

Karma flinched, hands shooting to his pocket-- his back pocket, his blazer pocket-- gone. His
unfortunate, absolutely only there for random purposes harassment weapons were gone.
He swung back toward the teacher, horrified-- Naomasa, catching his gaze, raised the two tubes of
spicy seasonings from his hands to prove his point.

"Dangerous," he emphasized, "so they're confiscated."

Karma could only chuckle dryly in response.

"Oh, Kuma-sensei, what're you looking at?"

Shiota Nagisa-- a blue haired, angrogynous-looking boy with his already-short hair bunched up in
twintails similar to Kayano's. As adorable as that seemed, Naomasa liked to think of Nagisa as a
more masculine form of endearing.

"Hi, Nagisa," Naomasa sighed, leaning over the windowsill as he gazed to the outside scenery, "I'm
not looking at anything, I'm just thinking."

Nagisa took a spot at the window beside the teacher. School was out for the day, so most were
heading home now. Someone was trying to stab Korosensei outside, and a few of the class punks
were yelling at each other for spilling a sandwich on the ground.

"Kuma-sensei, even you have worries?" Nagisa laughed lightheartedly.

"Yeah, the author's concerned that if I don't find a solid role to play in this story soon, readers are
gonna get bored and leave," Nao mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Everyone has their downtime moments," Naomasa told him, considering the blue-haired boy
carefully, "I believe you would understand that very well, Nagisa."

Nagisa's smile fell, as if Naomasa's words had struck a discomforting nerve. He was disturbed-- but
there was no way his teacher would know so much about him, would he? It wasn't as if people
spilled stories of their life to anyone else.

Naomasa and Nagisa knew little about each other, yet they held a deep bond to each other as
teacher and student.

"Korosensei's a great teacher, isn't he?" Naomasa turned his gaze to the octopus waving at the
students going down the hill, "he's dependable, smart, and he knows just how to bring about the
best in everyone."

"Even though he's an octopus," Nagisa chuckled, bringing out a notebook from his poocket and
jotting down something new in his list of Korosensei's weaknesses.

"Even though he's an octopus, indeed," Naomasa echoed in agreement.

"Good morning, Kunomasu-sensei!"

Ms Sakurai was fortunately not freaking out, but there was a monster in her shop.

Naomasa had always known Korosensei's disguises were atrocious, but seeing it in person made
Naomasa question the octopus' sanity.
Korosensei's miserable excuse of a camouflage into civilisation included a fake nose, a flat wig,
sleeves, and gloves. And changing his skin colour to a human-ish beige, that's it.

Mind I remind you of his stupid perfect transmutation-circle worthy round face?

"I thought I would take precedence to pick you up on the way to school, you see," Korosensei
smiled, his tentacles not moving like arms, his movement not looking like he had legs as he
slithered his way forward.

Naomasa's face was utterly pale, mortified, baffled--

"Terrible," he spat, "I've never thought I'd ever be able to see something so much worse than my
Math grades in high school."

"So mean!" Korosensei wailed, "is that the first thing you say to me today?"

"You need to work on that disguise, sir," Naomasa's face was unable to return from the state of
horrified.

Naomasa left the Sakurai Florist's, following Korosensei as they walked toward school.

"You are settling down quite well in the class, Kunomasu-sensei," Korosensei chuckled his strange
'nurufufu' sounds, "I'm very impressed."

Impressed, he says.

"Well, I've known them before I transferred into this class," Naomasa explained, "the Board
Chairman sent me up that mountain because he believed you and Mr Karasuma would have issues
warming up to the children, after all. I'm simply doing my job."

"And you do it splendidly, Kunomasu-sensei," Korosensei insisted, "you warm up to everyone in

different manners, providing them with a very healthy student-teacher relationship that reflects the
normality this Assassination Classroom lacks. As I believe that is vital for their growth as student, I
must express my gratitude."

Naomasa couldn't help but laugh at that.

All he's done this past month was be himself on a bigger scale than when he was in the main
building. Perhaps it was the restrictive atmosphere of the main building that disallowed the concept
of fun to be understood.

In the main building, each moment spent without studying was important time wasted on
meaningless activities. In Class E, time spent without books were time spent learning much more
outside the world of books.

It gave Naomasa the freedom to be himself.

Perhaps this was the joy of Class E-- freedom. The carefree nature that came with being a youth
was loss in the main building, because all they thought of was their future.

The main building taught their students with books and knowledge; Korosensei taught his class
with experiences and memories.

Naomasa knew which one he liked better, even as a teacher.

"To be honest, sir," Naomasa admitted, "I'm fairly sure things would turn out the same even
without me. I believe.. I know that you can teach the kids much more than I can with just my
measly experiences as an educator."

Nao reached out for the sun, sinking into a smile that only spoke volumes of how little he was in
the world.

"You can-- no, you will do so much for them," Naomasa turned to Korosensei, "their lives will
develop and they will grow into so much because of you-- I don't think my presence here will have
much effect on their futures as a whole."

Naomasa didn't feel sad to admit that. In fact, his heart only told him how that was true and he
possibly preferred it that way.

"No one knows what the future holds, Kunomasu-sensei," Korosensei's voice was not uplifting.
His smile was wide and curved upwards-- but it did not look happy. "Everything that people do
have meaning in someone's life-- you may not see it yourself, but a little of you lives in everyone
you've ever interacted with. It is those tiny fragments that shape the future of a person. You
definitely play a part in their futures, Kunomasu-sensei. You shouldn't think otherwise."

Naomasa felt personally, deeply affected by those words.

And although they bloomed in a pain that felt like hurtful sadness in his chest, he knew in his head
that what bloomed in his soul was not sorrow, but heartfelt joy.

"Thanks," Naomasa told him, "you really are a great teacher."

You really were a great teacher, Korosensei.

 irina and the irony.

Nao made it to school somewhere within third period, having gone to the hospital for a checkup in
the morning. He had built up a decent amount of stamina to climb the mountain during the past
month he had taught here, so he was able to make it up by himself, albeit with quite some effort.

The children were in the midst of their Physical Education Class-- they seemed to have that class
every day now to keep up with the assassination-- and Nao quietly bypassed them, heading straight
to the staffroom.

To be frank, he wasn't quite expecting to find anyone in the faculty room before him.

The woman was at Naomasa's age-- but she seemed much more mature. She rooted from foreign
origins, blonde hair falling in waves that framed her figure perfectly. Her eyes were the shade of
pale ice, sharp and narrowing in scrutiny upon Nao's entrance.

She smoked by an open window, leaning by the windowsill as she tapped at a tablet on her lap.
She raised an eyebrow at Nao.

Nao, noting the stare, broke into an instinctive smile of professionalism.

"You must be the new teacher," he addressed, casually moving toward his desk and placing his
items on the chair-- taking a step forward toward Irina, he calmed his breath.

He was nervous-- this is my first time meeting her, he reminded himself, I know nothing else.

"It is very nice to meet you, I'm Kunomasu," Nao introduced himself humbly, "I teach Japanese
and Modern Literature. I've heard you would be taking half of the English classes that I was
originally in--"

"Please refrain from the needlessness," Irina Jelavic interrupted briefly, "I do not intend on staying
very long-- but it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance... Kunomasu."

Irina approached the male carefully, placing her tablet precariously on the desk. Her movements
were fluent, gentle, perhaps even graceful. Trained and indoctrinated so, Naomasa thought, she
moves that way because it is simply part of her job description to do so.

It was enchanting-- her figure was curvy, a bumblebee waist, her businesswoman getup only
seemed to accentuate her every movement in ways to amplify her bewitching, alluring proportions.

Naomasa swallowed.

Vaguely, he recalls bearing a female physique in his past life. Yet-- this woman had the ability to
make his heart falter at the pure beauty of her presence.

Irina Jelavic, a highly renowned honeypot assassin-- terrifying.

Removing her cigarette from her lips, she stalled three steps before him and acknowledged
Naomasa. "So I assume you are... a normal teacher in this class?" she considered, almost in
disinterest, "I admire your polite greeting, but unfortunately, I do not intend on building
relationships beyond the scope of my work. "

She was stern and cold, her glare a frozen orb that only oozed interest in the stream of her current
mission.

Nao knew she saw her as useless as the students in class. She knew Nao had nothing of worth from
just one look through him-- Nao had no way of contributing to her assassination attempts, so why
would she bother with him?

"I see," Nao sighed, acting dismayed by the rejection, chortling nervously. Turning back to his
desk, he picked up yesterday's unwashed coffee mug.

"Sorry to bother you then, Ms Jelavic," he smiled at her, "I wish you luck."

Irina's gaze considerably darkened at the name she did not offer.

Feeling the animosity, Naomasa wondered if he'd pushed a button too far. Ah-- I could pretend he
got her name from Karasuma, that'd work.

But what would Nao even do? He was just a teacher.

Surrounded by monsters, but there was nothing he could really do.

Nao left the room, washing his cup and opting for a new mug of coffee.

"Bitch-neesan?" Nao couldn't burst out laughing right there, "as someone who's taught an English
class, you guys are surely one to disappoint!"

The Japanese notoriety of mispronouncing Vs and Bs were as infamous as Ls and Rs-- but never in
his life had Naomasa thought he'd really witness such a tragedy.

"Ms Jelavic has such a pretty name, so it's such a shame," Naomasa sighed.

Nagisa could only laugh dryly at the comment from the teacher, "Karma-kun started it, and
everyone just followed."

"I don't like her!" Kayano whined, munching on her bread almost angrily. "Her boobs too, cow tits.
No one can do desk work with those, she doesn't look the part of a teacher at all!"

"Is that really what you're angry at, Kayano?" Nagisa retorted.

Naomasa couldn't suppress the giggles that just rumbled from his throat, "it's okay, Kayano, you're
still a growing child."

"I'm not a child!" the girl pouted.

"Don't mind, flat is justice," Nao corrected himself.

"Kuma-sensei's a pervert! Lolicon!" she whimpered.

"I'm a feminist," a reference no one would understand.

Kayano did not like the correction, but Nagisa and Sugino laughed it off as a harmless joke.
Naomasa laughed along too, the three enjoying what was their little time of recess with their
teacher.

"So," the conversation dimmed, "Kuma-sensei, what do you really think of the... new teacher?"
Sugino Tomohito was a gentle, kind-hearted boy. He refrained from the crash language he didn't
prefer to use, but the discontent was clear in his tone. He did not like Irina Jelavic as much as the
other students, but he was letting the disgruntlement bubble below his chest.

"She's not a bad person," Nao's answer was immediate., "she's devoted to her job, that's why she
sees nothing else. She's confident in her abilities, and holds a strong pride for her capabilities--
though, it's not to say that her haughty farce won't be her downfall."

Nao-- over the years, he had come to think thoroughly about each of the characters he knew by
soul. He developed a personal opinion on each of them, so clear to him it was easy to bring up. It
wasn't anything deep, but he liked to ponder upon them every once in a while.

Irina Jelavic was just as her nickname dictated-- a Bitch. Even so, Naomasa couldn't bring himself
to hate her. Even as an outsider, he never found himself disliking Irina-- in fact, he found her
endearing.

She was a screwd hitman that used the charm she was born with to the best interests of the masses--
to survive. She discarded pieces she didn't need without hesitation, and seeks to hold no lingering
attachments in her life.

To Naomasa, Irina was an admiration for just how human she was.

But the fact that Irina was an elegant woman that held no remorse for men, held no tact and
emotion to just use people for their advantage-- that fact alone reminded Nao greatly of his own
sister, Kunomasu Kazane-- and the thought filled him with repulse so great he felt nauseated.

Naomasa held two views of Irina Jelavic-- one of his past life's experiences, and one of his present
life's sufferings.

It was a strange conflict of feelings to harbour within him. Half of him wished to respect the hitman
as a strong embodiment of feminine strength-- the other half refused to accept her as any much
more than the euphemism everyone referred to her as.

His past life sees the future-- yet his present life lingers in the past.

Clenching his heart, Naomasa felt that something was really wrong about this situation.
 loud sounds are a menace.

"Korosensei and the new teacher look like they're gonna shack it up in the storage shed,"
Muramatsu pointed out to Nao, "is that allowed?"

Nao groaned, lifting the Shounen Jump from his face as he rose from his sleeping spot on the
grass. The light was bright against the world, so Nao decided he was going to sleep until it was
dark again.

"Obviously not," he grumbled, irritated from being woken up from his nap under the shade, "this is
a Shounen manga, not a Seinen. Matsui-sensei would get in trouble if he pulled fanservice further
than Irina's existence."

"Did you understand that?" Muramatsu directed his concern to Nagisa.

Nagisa shook his head, resigned, "not at all."

Getting up with a yawn, Nao turned his attention to the hill upward toward the sports storage shed-
- a bright yellow octopus and a blonde babe didn't mix well as a pair, but there they were, arm in
arm, fawning over each other as they made their merry way toward the storage shed.

"Sorry," Karasuma sighed, reluctance in his tone as well as he viewed the very dissatisfying scene,
"I'm under orders from the government to leave matters entirely to her, as a professional."

A professional, Nao repeated in his head.

"She sure doesn't seem like it," Terasaka grumbled.

Nao couldn't suppress the laugh, "still, she seems pretty confident."

"That's what we don't like about her, Kuma-sensei," Sugino added with a resigned sigh, twirling
the knife in his hand, "she's pretty egocentric."

Karasuma's sigh lined up with Naomasa's, the two teachers meeting eyes in ironic confusion.

"Still, to complete her preparations in one day--" Karasuma muttered, "there's no denying that's
she's a top class hitman."

Nao stood up, making his way over. He placed a hand at Karma's shoulder (I mean, for no real
reason, he was just there), and chuckled weakly to the statement.

"In a way, she's kinda like Akabane, isn't she?" Nao joked.

Irritated, Karma poked the teacher in the cheek with his anti-sensei knife, "you might need an
optometrist, sir, Bitch-neesan and I have virtually nothing in common."

He was annoyed, but he wasn't physically threatening the teacher in any way.

Nao mused at the calm treatment he was given.

But really, Karma and Irina both failed miserably due to overconfidence-- then are eventually
pacified by the overwhelming might that was Korosensei's education. They were very similar.

Nao sighed, considering himself.

"You'll see eventually," he decided.

A crack shattered in the air-- an explosion of gunshots blasted through riveting rifles like
firecrackers reverberating through the landmass of the mountain.

Every leaped in fright-- Nao's heart skipped a very unromantic beat as he nearly yelped in surprise.

"Gunshots?" someone piped up, alarmed.

"It from the shed!" Sugino pointed out, "they just went in, though."

The gunfire was such a loud noise Sugino had to raise his voice a treble to even be audible.

It sounded like wood splintering, glass shattering, bullets ravaging, and gunpowder sizzling.
Shimmering in a bright light that erupted from a little flame, Nao was still.

His grip unconsciously tightened around Karma's shoulder-- he felt his blood run cold and his
stomach sink in a sort of dismay. Like he was stuck on a roller coaster with his safety belt broken
off-- fear.

He felt his heart tightened in a familiar difficulty, and reached up to clenched at it-- an instinct that
did not at all ease the pain. His heart hastened heavily, each strum striking him like a weighty
mallet, almost painful.

Pupils widening, his breath was ragged-- his hand clutched a little tighter at the fabric, feeling the
ache throb at him with each blast of the bombardment.

The sound was hurting his ears with pain that wasn't just physical.

He was frozen-- petrified, trapped in a world that told him, reminded him, warned him, over and
over, that there was danger beyond, somewhere. Somewhere, and somewhere near.

Will it kill him? Hurt him? Take him? Cause him pain? It will-- it might, maybe it didn't-- but what
if it did? He was confused, his thoughts were overlapping-- yet, nothing seemed to tell him exactly
why he was feeling this way.

It was scary, and people really didn't know why they feared things. It was unknown, it was scary,
and we can do nothing but be scared and hope to run away.

The loud, incoherently crumbling noises filled his mind with nothing but an infinite darkness that
trapped him in nothingness. Forever?

He broke free from the entrapment the moment the noise ceased to be. It was like light rushed into
his vision again, throwing him back into the reality that he tried to remember he was in.

He found Karma eyeing him with concealed concern-- but the other students had their eyes stuck
onto the shed. Nao broke away from Karma, letting out a strangled chortle in an attempt to assure
the boy he was alright.

A tortured scream ripped through the air-- a female shriek, agonizing, from the shed-- and Nao had
never leaped so hard.

Suggestive slithering moaning graspy sounds echoed through the shed up the hill.

Nao closed his eyes, "oh my god," he groaned, voice breaking, "what in the holy hell are they-"
Everyone watched from a distance, absolutely exasperated, completely and utterly baffled.
Nao, his previous bout forgotten, found himself speechless in absolutely horrified bewilderment
alongside Karasuma.

Seeing this firsthand makes it so much more stupid, Nao grumbled in his head, ready to just go
back to sleep so he didn't have to witness this, wait, did we ever find out what Korosensei did in
there? A massage? A facial? then? was she tentacle porned? was she?

Curiosity overtaking them, the students ran up the hill to ascertain the situation. Nao stayed in
place, wondering if he should resign from his job and face court after all.

Sitting in his staffroom, Nao scribbled lesson notes in his free time. His coffee lay cold at the side,
his laptop overheated in the long use-- but he simply eyed the white screen, inspiration failing to
take him in his work.

His thoughts drifted to just a while ago-- his heart had acted up when the guns fired out. That
wasn't normal, Nao knew-- something was wrong. With him.

Hole in the heart, Nao typed into his computer, sighing.

How did he die again? he found himself wondering. An electric telephone wire flew down at her in
a storm-- slicing at her right at the shoulder. She died by electrocution.

Electrocuted instant death occurs when a electric shock too strong flows through the body,
interrupting the process of the synapse and electrical impulses to be sent-- and would
interfere with normal bodily functions, such as the signal to keep the heart beating.

Nao gulped, realizing the coincidence-- the cause of his death and this condition in his new life-
- were they linked, somehow?

No, it couldn't be, right?

But that didn't explain why Nao felt his heart tighten at the guns.

He stayed still for a long, long moment, thinking of everything and nothing-- then sighed, calming
himself. Stilling his breath, loosening his chest.

I shouldn't overthink this, Nao reminded himself.

He was just scared, he realized. Like how he was Astraphobic-- harboring a fear of thunder
because of her death; Nao realized that he could no longer bear loud noises either-- because they
reminded him so, so much of the thunder that roared on the very same night.

Sonophobia, Nao remembered the word now.

Clicking to save the document, he closed the window and shut down the device.

"Fuck this shit," he swore under his breath, the very first time in a while-- "screw this second life
thing, afterlife god's way too fuckin' extra, is he a kid with no common sense?!"
 give me your heart, literally.

"To tell the truth, we need you back in here as soon as you can," the voice on the other end of the
phone spoke to his sternly, "get your next day off. Actually, come right now."

"Matsukawa-sensei, I'm telling you, you don't just call me in the middle of school and tell me you
need an emergency appointment right away," Nao groaned, nursing a headache building up, "sick
leaves don't work that way and-- no, you called me in yesterday. I'm not going. No. I came up here
for class, you're not getting me down the mountain before it happens. I don't care if you're a doctor,
screw you. I don't give a fu--"

"Hey, language in the staffroom, Kunomasu-sensei!" Korosensei materialized.

"Oh jesus lord--" Nao stepped away in surprise at the yellow thing's sudden teleportation jutsu,
"hey, privacy in a phone call, octopus!"

"You're mean!" Korosensei retorted, "this is an educational platform and proper conduct should be
observed--"

"Another word," Nao glared, "and I'm throwing grape juice on you, mollusc."

"It's a criminal!" Korosensei shrieked in fear, "I'm being threatened!"

"Hmm," Nao mumbled, "since Terasaka, Maehara, Mimura, Nakamura and Yoshida didn't get their
work done on time, what do you guys suggest we do to them?"

The class went nervously silent.

Nao folded his arms, eyeing the five questionably and contemplatively. He wasn't trying to be
threatening, but he wasn't in the greatest of moods.

He was having difficulty focusing, especially since he was currently ignoring a hospital summons
for a session of class. He decided to go right after school hours ended, but still--

Karma raised his hand.

"Can we hang them upside down?" he suggested jokingly.

Nao took the response quite acceptingly, nodding once to acknowledge, "that sounds great and all,
but Terasaka would be a hassle to hang. Any other suggestions?"

The class sank into horror. Did Naomasa just take Karma's joke seriously?

In contrast to the class, Karma was highly amused. "Then, wasabi-"

"Stop, Karma!" Sugino panicked, raising a concerned tone toward his teacher, "Kuma-sensei, are
you alright? You've been out of it all day today."

Nao flinched, gripping the corners of the teacher's desk in an attempt to remind himself he was
currently at work.

Biting his lip, he forced out a smile.

"Well, punishments need to be educational--" he chuckled dryly, "since we're a Japanese Lesson, I
want all of you to write a three-page reflective essay, and hand it in by tomorrow along with all the
work you owe me."

This erected a surprised gasp from the five.

"Understand?" Nao smiled.

Naomasa sighed.

Well, they can probably do it if they try. How else are they gonna improve? Language had no level-
up function, unlike Math or Science.

Closing the door behind him, Nao made his way back to the staffroom. His phone buzzed like an
old car on his desk, but he didn't bother picking it up.

Irina sat two tables down, near exploding from the annoying noise.

Nao watched the phone ring like the uncaring irresponsible human he was. He glared at the phone,
at the screen that told him Doctor Matsukawa was calling him. It told him it was the thirtieth
missed call. Another call came.

Nao glowered at the phone as if it was a poisonous piece of shit, slouching at his chair and not
making any move to take the phone that was within arm's reach of him.

Korosensei trembled in the corner, fearful.

"PICK IT UP!" Irina yelled.

Nao jumped in absolute horror, his heart skipping a beat painfully at the sudden noise.

The call stopped ringing-- Nao turned to it, confused.

A message notification ringtone chimed.

Message from Doctor Matsukawa.

Picking it up carefully, Naomasa gulped nervously as he clicked on the button to read it.

I'll tell Ms Sakurai.

Naomasa paled. Dropping everything on hand, he leaped off the chair, gathered his things, and
called back telling the doctor he'll be in the hospital right away.

"Seriously, are you a kid? Go to your checkups regularly!" Dr Matsukawa reprimanded the
teacher, "this time it's serious!"

Matsukawa was an older man, looking a little rough and sporting a scar on his face like a typical
gang boss leader or something. He folded his arms, displeasure marring his expressions as he
looked like he was ready to chew Nao's head off.

"I mean, every time I come in here you tell me something's bad," Nao grumbled rebelliously, "I
don't see the point in getting some lame treatment if all you're gonna do is tell me I need more.
Also, I don't like your face."

Matsukawa sighed in resignation. He officially gives up.

"Well, you're not wrong," he decided to say, erected a disgusted scowl from Nao. Matsukawa slides
a lollipop in his mouth, casting a side glance to his monitor and the papers strewn about his desk,
"I'm sorry to say but-- we think you've got another hole in your heart."

...Uh,

"Sorry," Nao laughed nervously, "did I hear that right?"

"Your heart has a hole in it," Matsukawa repeated absent-mindedly, gathering the stuff on his desk
to make the area neat, "a ventricular septal defect. the septum, the wall that separates your left and
right heart chambers have a gap in it because--"

"Stop copying things off the internet, author!" Nao snapped, "I've heard that a ton of times, doc.
Too many times to goddamn count-- what on earth is going on?"

This wasn't the first time.

A decade or two ago, this same event occurred to Naomasa. At that time, they simply had a
surgical closure to due with the issue.

It was a defect from birth, Matsukawa had told him at the time. They had done the surgery twice in
the span of the first eight years of his life.

"Look, I ain't taking this bullshit any longer," Nao stood up, "this ain't normal."

A hole in the heart was a defect most survived with no lasting issues. For it to reopen, twice? It
would either be a shitty doctor or a shitty god. Hell, it can reopen?

"You aren't normal!" Matsukawa raised his voice, "look, we're trying to figure out just what is
wrong here. I promise it won't take too long, just--"

"That's what you tell me every time!" Nao yelled, fists crashing against the table.

This was exactly why he hated hospitals so, so much. They never brought in good news for him.
They never told him anything about him getting better-- only about things turning for the worse. It
was like the hospital was constantly sending him portents of just how much he wasn't allowed to
live long in this world.

And this world wasn't even fucking real.

His heart throbbed, ached, cracked in agony that he was trying to ignore. He wasn't angry-- just
disappointed. Upset. So, so, grievous. His chest swelled with a burning ache, as if it was crying
even before the tears could reach his eyes.

This wasn't fair.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" he wanted to give up, "stop wasting some petty cash on someone
who will never be healed... can't we?"

Matsukawa crunched the lollipop in his mouth.

"You are my patient, and I've been put in charge of you and your stupid heart," he growled,
evidently very, very angered, "so if you say anything more than that, I'm signing you up with a
counselor, Naomasa."

Nao knew that was a kind gesture to the doctor. A harsh gentleness, a conflicting oxymoron in the
doctor that spoke a hundred emotions that came out in a way that wasn't meant to hurt.

Matsukawa was a stern, serious man that did his very best in anything he did. He was strong-willed
and shed no wasted tears. He was the best cardiologist in the hospital, some said-- btu he really
didn't act like it.

His crass words always made Naomasa stand up strong against the gales-- but never left him
without a wound.

He didn't deny at all that Naomasa was without hope.

And beyond anything else Matsukawa had ever said-- that hurt him a lot.
 strange ways to skip assembly.

"Holding down the fort, ma'am?" Nao called out soggily to the female teacher impatiently tapping
beats at the windowsill.

"That Karasuma told me to stay," Irina growled rebelliously, " treating me as if I'm something
feral, how dare he!"

Nao let out a hearty laugh, dropping his bottle on the table and pulling out a chair.

The kids were down the hill, hanging by main campus for what was their once-in-a-month school
assembly. Karasuma had followed after as their chaperone and representative homeroom teacher,
but he had given the female teacher stern reminders to not go down.

"What about you, not going?" Irina cast a cold glance over.

Nao raised an eyebrow at that. Irina hadn't much talked to him after their very first conversation--
one of an uninterested assassin speaking to a gullible civilian-- so to think irina was bringing up a
conversation to him?

Irina had slowly transitioned into being a part of the class, but her first impression with Naomasa
was one thing she had yet to fix. Maybe this was her first step.

"I won't be able to make the trip down and back up, so," Nao sighed, "I thought I'd join our
mollusc friend for a chat of some sort, but he's nowhere to be seen either."

Irina hummed, not too amused. It was normal and boring, mundane. Did Kunomasu Naomasa ever
have anything interesting going on with his life?

With a speedy octopus, a government combat agent and a high-class assassin as teachers, the
normalcy of this teacher was something that stood out like a sore thumb. It was debatable if he
even was necessary in their course. After all, with the careful balance of student-assassin teacher-
target relationship in this school, Naomasa's presence may end up toppling the scales.

"Wait--" the thought suddenly hit her, "where's the squid?"

"He's an octopus, Ms Jelavic," Nao perked up lazily, eating something with a spoon-- was that ice
cream? Where'd he get that-- "and I said, I couldn't find him, so,"

"He RAN!!" it hit her like a screaming train. When did that happen? Well, she wasn't exactly in
charge of looking after the target but still, she was told to stay home why did he get to go-- "that's
unfair! I'm going down there too!"

"For all we know, he could've just made a run to Bohemia or something, but--" Naomasa mumbled
after the woman who was stomping right out the door, "--and, she's gone."

Taking another scoop of the strawberry ice cream he stole from Korosensei's ice box stash, he
hummed, finding the situation all but amusing.

This situation seemed familiar. Oh, is this the episode that--

"Oh! what's that, Kuma-sensei?" Karma came hanging by the window, leaning over casually as he
cheerfully piped up.

Nao leaped, heart skipping a not-so-happy beat at the sudden ambush. Because holy hell if you
were on an isolated mountain building thinking no one's around and suddenly a voice just comes
out of nowhere who does not just scream and freak out--

"A-Akabane..." he held a hand over his chest, trying to calm the racing staccato of his frightened
heart, "where did you come from?"

"I was sleepin' over there," he jabbed a thumb in a random direction, "what's that?"

Oh, right, Nao recalled, he skipped out on this supposedly compulsory assembly.

"Check out the Octopus' desk," Nao gestured with his chin, "hidden in the second drawer, under the
secret compartment."

"Oh, sweet!" Karma clambered in, "you found where he hid it?"

"Shoes off, red devil," Nao murmured absent-mindedly, taking another generous scoop and
swinging it under his tongue, "that Octopus can't lie for the life of him. Hush though, not a word
about what I'm eating here."

Karma found himself a spot on Karasuma's seat, having dug up vanilla ice cream to match his daily
dose of strawberry milk. Digging in quickly and excitedly like a child with a new candy, Naomasa
found this side of the boy oddly endearing to witness.

"What're ya staring at?" Karma's attention swung to the teacher, who seemed surprised to have met
his eyes.

A smile crawled up. "No, just thinking that it's nice to just laze about sometimes," Nao sighed,
"carefree, without worry."

Karma leaned in his seat, contemplative. He eyed the teacher as if carious-- yet, he made no move
to show hostility against the teacher.

"What's that look for?" Nao chuckled.

"Kuma-sensei, you're a strange person," Karma's words surprised Naomasa-- "you always seem so
deep in thought, so honest and yet so deceptive-- you talk like you know a lot, but at the same time,
you seem to know little about a lot of things, too."

"Well, if that ain't an oxymoron," the teacher sighed. "You're being quite ambiguous, Akabane, it's
hard to catch the point you're bringing across."

Karma seemed to laugh right back at that, "well, that's exactly how I feel about you, sensei!"

His cheer brought Nao's mood crashing right back down.

Ambiguous, obscure, and unsettling. Conflicting and elusive-- ah, was that what Karma felt about
him? Or maybe it was something less negative. Something less... dissenting.

"You were on campus with the rest of those... that society," Karma chose his words carefully, "but
you didn't fit in. You were the one teacher that had sanity, surrounded by the insane."

Nao gulped. Karma's eyes were sharp, gold and cold.

"Even up here, you're pretty much the same-- you're the reason in the madness. But a different kind
of craziness, if you get what I mean," Karma chortled, amused at his own comparisons, "it's hard to
say you fit right in here with the all of us."

Nao clenched his fist.

Yeah, he internally acknowledged, I don't belong here.

I was never supposed to make it up this mountain. To slot myself into this classroom that's so much
complete as it already is. To become the odd one out that contributes nothing to this storyline-- I'm
quite an unnecessary cog in this mechanism called the Assassination Classroom--

"Hey, sensei," Karma's voice sang in a sort of childish curiosity. Was he being mean? Was he
being a bully? It was hard to tell-- maybe he was just being the blunt and honest smartass he was.
And Nao was just an interesting specimen to him.

Nao felt torn.

"Kuma-sensei, where on earth could you fit into?"

The ice cream in his hands had melted. All left of it was the milky, pink shade of manufactured
pigments, and the strawberry-like sweetness of artificial flavours.

I don't know, he realized.

Where can I ever fit into, in this world?

She was dead, brought to life as another person. Among everything, that was anomalous. yeah, it
sounded like a totally different kind of story. Even his genre stood out as alien in this world.

Nothing he had fit in.

He was a complete outsider.

"That's everyone's mission in life, Akabane," he scrounged for a teacher-like answer, keeping his
calm, steadying his heart, "to look for their place in this world. I'm probably still trying to get there,
y'know?"

His speech was fast. Rapid-- discomposed. If he looked up at the boy, perhaps, he would realize
that he was near tears.

"That's super cheesy," Karma blanched.

And regardless of Nao's emotional discourse, they both busted into laughter, mutually
acknowledging just how awkward the previous conversation had flowed. Seriously, they were
never going to do that again.

"Seven days. That's how long I want you to stay in the hospital," Matsukawa was firm and
accepting no rebuttal.

But Naomasa was going to give one anyways, "my students have their mid terms coming right up
and--"

"Well, get a replacement," Matsukawa threw his hands up, exasperated.

"It doesn't work that way, you want me in tomorrow," Naomasa argued, pointing rudely, "you're
supposed to hand in a letter of advance notice a week--"

"Ah, yes, that's about the time since my first call getting you in here," Matsukawa growled,
"your students," he repeated, "are of lower priority than your heart."

"My heart isn't giving me nearly as many problems as my students right now!" Naomasa growled
right back.

"So you would rather it start killing you before you start crawling in here?" Matsukawa raised his
tone, "fuck-- I've contacted your boss and he's given me the green light!"

"You called my- what?!" Nao jumped right up, "You called the Principal? Matsukawa, I'll have
you know that that man--"

"Told me that your class has got teachers well capable of handling the language classes you're
dealing with," Matsukawa gritted his teeth.

Nao flinched, realizing that that wasn't all that false. Irina could handle English-- and to begin with,
Korosensei would be adapting the studies to a cram session from now on anyways--

Sitting down, he begrudgingly gave in.

He really didn't want to sit through the hospital surgery again. A hand clutching over his chest
almost instinctively, he let out a shaky breath.

"Alright, then," he resigned himself.

 and he takes a sudden leave of absence.

It wasn't hard to notice him gone.

Nearly two minutes into Korosensei's unnecessary duplication techniques, Kanzaki Yukiko found
the lack of a teacher unnerving.

"Is... Kuma-sensei off work today?" she asked, raising her hand hesitantly.

Despite his poor health, Kanzaki fails to remember a day in the main building where Kunomasu
Naomasa missed a day of work. Not even for a sick leave... or perhaps it was just her that didn't
notice. The teacher never missed classes much.

"About that, I'm not so sure," Korosensei turned, all of his heads turning in the direction of the girl,
erecting a few squeaks, "there's been no contact from him."

"Did he run?" Maehara jokingly suggested.

"Playing truant?" Nakamura chuckled, "well, he seems the type!"

"Or maybe he got tired of us fools," Terasaka groaned.

"Hey, hey, Kuma-sensei isn't that kind of person!" Sugino responded, almost offended. "He's a nice
person."

Muramatsu scoffed, "nice person, but still a member of the faculty under that principal."

"C'mon, guys, he's probably just stuck halfway up the mountain again," Kimura sighed, resigned at
the passive argument going on behind him.

"Or a family emergency?" Yada suggested, "or maybe those checkups he's always complaining
about."

"He would've contacted Karasuma-sensei for that, right?" Nagisa was beginning to doubt, too,
"maybe he got caught up somewhere again..."

"What if his heart acted up again?" Isogai sounded concerned, "that'd be disastrous--"

"Now, now!" Korosensei raised his voice a little above the commotion, all doubles raising a finger
to shush the students, "I'm sure he's alright. I've had Karasuma-san locate him for the moment, so
let's get back to our cram session, shall we?"

Unease was still settled around-- it was strange without him around. He left early from classes
plenty of times, or showed up late, but none of the students really thought much about it, knowing
the teacher had a health issue to be concerned for.

Kanzaki Yukiko fingered the cover of a book under her desk, a little forlorn. Well, she guessed the
story she wanted to share with him would have to wait.

It wasn't until later, when their principal (making an unexpected visit to see Mr billion bounty
octopus) told them about Kuma-sensei's hospitalisation, that they found out the reason behind his
absence.
It was easy to forget that Naomasa was a crippled man. That he couldn't do many things an average
adult man could do. Karasuma may have given them a false hope of normalcy, but the truth lay in
the fact the man was a prime military agent.

Naomasa, too, was past the point of normalcy in his own way.

"Is he gonna die?" when Okajima voiced the thought, everyone snapped at him for saying such
remorseful words.

"He's better off not coming by too often, anyways," Yoshida sighed, "y'know, his reputation as an
elite teacher and all that."

"Aren't we over this, guys?" Kataoka groaned, "Kuma-sensei isn't like the rest of the teachers in
main campus, and we know that firsthand."

"They're not wrong about it being better with him not coming, though," Isogai stated meaningfully,
"people with heart diseases are told to exercise regularly-- but to Kuma-sensei, I feel like it just has
the opposite effect."

It wasn't hard to forget that Naomasa had a heart impairment.

He acted normal, common, and perhaps, what a modern day student would call a 'typical' teacher.
Sometimes, he'd just be on the verge of death, or other times, he seemed to be going for more
checkups than his smiles said he needed.

"It's like the more he exercises the more he looked like he's going to kick the bucket?" Maehara
laughed, agreeing.

"That's because he doesn't know how to regulate his exercise," Kayano giggled.

Naomasa was a figure that melded into the background for them. It seemed like nothing would
change if he were here-- but if he weren't, something was just missing.

Whether the missing bit was a good or bad one, it probably differed from each person's perspective
of him.

In this idiosyncratic classroom, plagued by paranormal episodes, Naomasa was a figure that
reminded them that they were students. In this accursed school, ruled by the reprehensible principal
and chained by the shackles trashed standards.

Some wanted to forget. To spend this last year up here, having their kind of fun. Stay in the dumps,
and think about going, or not going, to high school when they get there.

But Naomasa's presence forced them to remember.

Even though they were the vermin of the school-- this teacher was trying to yank their grades up,
like Korosensei himself. Unlike Irina, though, Naomasa taught purely academic-related stuff. He
went off the rails a few times, but nothing was going to be as 'useful' as Bitch-sensei's fluency
speech lessons.

Even though they were the E class, y'know?

"Did you hear? There's a huge tornado up on the mountain adjacent to Kunugigaoka Junior High!"
the nurse told me almost excitedly, "it's crazy!"

Naomasa nearly spat out his tea in surprise.

"What?!"

Looking out the window, Nao sucked in a sob. Oh, he was missing out! He wanted to watch this-
- no, he didn't. He's more than glad to be away from up there-- ugh, he needed to decide.

A single flap of a butterfly wing can cause a typhoon in the next continent.

Nao originally didn't want to go up there in fear of this-- the butterfly effect. What would change if
Nao interfered? Would someone's grades slip from the top fifty? Would someone decide to leave
or stay after achieving something better? Would they alter their career paths due to his influence?

It would be ideal if it was something as trivial as that.

Nao feared to think what would happen if he altered the events of the Death God's arrival-- or even,
Korosensei's death itself.

Thus far, his presence itself hadn't caused any alterations-- if the tornado was happening, that was
a relief. It meant that the world was not shattering apart from its borders. It meant things were still
going as they should be.

Nao gripped the sheets of his hospital bed-- realizing just how much he'd hate to see Korosensei
die again. But he couldn't say that he wanted to see him live, either.

If Korosensei had survived that day-- nothing would be the same. Sure, he would be there, but no
one could say if this was a good or bad choice. Would Nagisa's parents have bonded together?
Would the E class students have received their needed 'liberation' from the press? Would the
government have left the target be?

Even if Nao thought about it, he didn't know a way to truly get Korosensei away from school alive.
He didn't know a way that would give them the happily ever after Kayano deserved.

A tornado spun in the air, brewed by righteous anger, fueled by a fatherly love for his students.

As Nao gazed upon it, he almost wished he were there, standing beside them, listening to those
words again. Perhaps not as a teacher-- but as a student.

If Nao had gotten a teacher like him in his youth-- perhaps he would have turned out a little
different from himself now. Perhaps he would have had a different outlook on life.

Or perhaps, he would be a changed person at the end of the story.

Chuckling, Naomasa could only imagine.

I'll be back there in a week, he assured himself.

I can wait that long.

 the impression in his eyes, they've seen death.

"You look happy," Irina observed.

"Trust me, I feel absolutely liberated!" Naomasa stretched, standing over the hill and breathing in
the fresh air. "Freedom!" he declared.

"You're not worried about the kids?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "Karasuma told you about the
wager that dumb octopus threw at them, didn't he?"

Irina cast a glance at Karasuma, who nodded.

"It'll be fine," Naomasa responded. "I can kind of guess what will happen, so... just, you don't need
to worry about it."

"We do!" Irina groaned, "this puts the earth at stake, y'know?"

Naomasa laughed nervously, "well, worrying will get you nowhere!"

Karasuma coughed for attention, "last I've heard, people usually take a few days of rest at home
before they begin their lives again," he mumbled, "and seeing as you've had the luxury of riding a
human-cart up the mountain today, I strongly believe you should have stayed home."

"Wow, that's the longest sentence you've spoken to me, Karasuma-san," Nao's smile was still
facing to the lush greenery, "and with all due respect, hell no. The cart was made for me, I'm just
allowing my student's kind hearts to shine." Cue a boisterous laugh.

Karasuma looked irritated.

Nao sighed, easing his adrenaline rush. "My muscles are all sore and painful from being forced on
a bed all week. I deserve a little breather, don't I?" he chuckled, "the kids are facing hell down
there in the building of suffocation, and I'm still on sick leave so I'm free!"

Nao stepped onto the grassy hill, skidding down to the valley and making his way toward the trees,
deciding to take a little adventure in the woods while he could.

He was sluggish and his steps ached, muscles struggling to cope with the lack of exercise, hurting
from the weight of his own body. Maybe it was because he was never really a fit person-- a weak
in bed gave him muscle sores. His legs were trying to remember how to work now.

"I'm not too clear on how a civilian human views bedrest, but I'm quite sure you're abnormal," Irina
grumbled, throwing her voice as Nao wandered deeper into the forest, "do you want to land
yourself right back in?"

Nao swung back, mortified. "Ugh, hell no," he was actually shrinking with cringe, "never again. I
got blackmailed this time, y'know? I'm not going back there again if my life depends on it."

"Ungrateful spoiled brat," Irina seethed.

Karasuma had a feeling that Naomasa was serious, but the fact wasn't something the young teacher
could choose. Nao would go back to the hospital soon, whether he liked it or not.

For Irina, who grew up in a harsh environment where medical needs were never tolerated-- she felt
Nao was rather heedless and unappreciative of what he was given.

"Does your life really mean so little to you?" she asked, a little irked.

At that-- Nao seemed to stop his pace. His smile was gone when Karasuma saw him next-- and his
tone was a mellow, empty tone neither of them had heard from the man before.

"My bad," his voice was a little cold, "it's a little hard to try and live when everyone keeps telling
you you're going to die soon."

Karasuma winced. Irina cringed.

"I strive for a short and sweet life!" Nao laughed, smile curling back on his face, "unhealthy habits
are fun, y'know?"

"That's exactly why your doctor's hounding you!" Irina retorted.

Karasuma found himself empathizing with whoever was the doctor of this childish man. Naomasa
had no concept of self-preservation at all.

The man's shoes crunched against the leaves as he ventured deeper into the forest, on some kind of
research adventure. His sleeves were rolled up, his tie was never there. His hair, a shade of light
brown that was hastily brushed back with a clumsy amount of gel.

And the smile on his face.

Easygoing and seemingly without worries, Karasuma came to realize that this man was an
eccentric one. Wearing unreadable intentions, and basking in the background scenery, Naomasa
was part of nature. He did nothing new when he was there-- but while absent, something would
feel missing.

Or maybe, he was just hard to forget. There were only a handful of teachers up on this hill, after all.

When Naomasa began to disappear into the woods, Karasuma found himself trailing after the man,
deciding to be a chaperone in case he lost his way.

Irina never liked Naomasa. From the start, he gave her the creeps. Wearing the face of a declawed
cat, but acting like a fox.

She branded him a weakling, and she really wasn't wrong.

He was a mediocre teacher, a mediocre person. There was nothing that stood out of the man aside
from his strange confidence against paranormal occurrences.

She didn't want to get too involved with that man-- after all, this was just a mission to assassinate
the octopus, and after that, she'll just leave.

But she hasn't been able to do that-- and now, she's stuck with the flow of events that was pulling
her into making themselves a relationship at least as colleagues.

There was nothing they had in common. At least with Karasuma, they had skills, experiences, and
their professionalism to share. With Naomasa? Irina barely understood him!

It was hard to respect him, yet, it was difficult to ignore him.

"It's a little hard to try and live when everyone keeps telling you you're going to die soon."

That phrase hit home to her, and she felt it ache in her chest. It was a dog-eat-dog world she resided
in-- she knew how it was to be helpless against the tides of fate.

But unlike him, Irina Jelavic didn't give up.

That was what she loathed about him.

Gripping the rubber anti-octopus knife, she let out a breath of grunted anger. She had some steam
to let off now, and she was going to have that octopus be target practice for a bit.

"Kunomasu-sensei, no ice cream for you!" Korosensei reprimanded, zapping the cup right out of
Naomasa's hands, depositing the spoon in his own... nonexistent... mouth.

"Hey, I was half way through that!" Nao raised his voice, upset, "it's my first strawberry ice cream
in a week, c'mon!"

"You have just been released from the hospital, young man," Korosensei began reprimanding the
brunet, "the last thing anyone needs is your surgery to have complications because your blood
sugar's spiked."

"Well, you're raising my blood pressure," Nao whined, "return it."

"I refuse!" Korosensei threw it, cup and all, into his mouth. "You seem to call for a lecture on
healthy dietary habits! You are an adult, Kunomasu-sensei!"

That seemed to make Nao sigh in resignation, turning away from the octopus and his lost ice
cream. He fixed his eyes on his laptop screen, to the blank worksheet he was working on.

Adult, huh, it made him think. It was nice to act spoiled and bratty, but the fact was that he was in
his late twenties. He was a teacher, not a student. An adult, not a baby.

"So," Nao turned to the teacher, who was starting to rant off about the food pyramid and vitamins,
"I heard you made a bet with the students."

He turned toward the window, to the new field outside, the aftermath of the tornado a few days
back. A breeze blew in, and Nao stepped over to the windowsill, looking outside.

"If they don't place in the fifties, you'll leave?" he questioned the teacher.

"Indeed, that is what I have promised," Korosensei responded without missing a beat. "The
students were missing something fundamental in themselves-- simply put, they lacked the
confidence and the desire to go on to their futures."

Futures, Naomasa smiled, "the mentality of the E-as-in-End class brought them all down, eh?" he
chuckled, "I admire that you are making something of it."

Korosensei went silent at that.

"Kunomasu-sensei," he spoke up carefully, "I have come to believe that you have sunk to the same
state of mind as the students."

Naomasa's smile fell-- and he turned to face the teacher.

"You do not see your future," Korosensei stated his observation calmly, "and seem to dwell on the
longing for thoughts like 'I hope this time would last forever', and 'it would be fine if things stayed
as they were', down in the depths and without improvement."

Naomasa listened, an unreadable expression marring his features. He leaned back on the
windowsill-- and kept his gaze on the teacher, who stared back with equally empty eyes.

"You do not hold any desire to participate in the assassination the class strive for--" Korosensei
raised a tentacle finger, "my bounty-- and the Earth's destruction-- you hold no desire for money,
and perhaps, you would have no wishes even if the world were to end tomorrow."

Korosensei was silent now, expecting Nao to talk.

And Naomasa did.

"You can't lecture me," Nao's voice was almost annoyed, satiric-- "you'd be a hypocrite."

Korosensei flinched, shrinking back as Nao raised his eyes in a wild glare.

"You came here, telling people to kill you, mocking the government and making yourself the
martyr of the world," Naomasa put a hand at his own chest, "and without telling anyone why, you
are a teacher, trying to lead a bunch of hopeless children to their potential."

Korosensei didn't look faltered-- but his expressions were always changeless.

"You don't think you'll die, so you embrace the people trying to kill you every day," Nao's voice
was softening, emotions permeating in an outburst, "tell me-- if you end up getting killed
tomorrow, would you have any last wishes?"

It was a rhetorical question-- because the answer was evidently a no.

"You and I... we're the same," Nao clenched his shirt, grasping at his heart from the outside, "we
have nothing to lose and little to regret."

He bit his lip-- he was trying not to cry.

"You live and walk with death," Nao spoke, "so you're not scared of it. In fact, you're just sitting
there, waiting for the day the actual god of death comes to take you. You'd gladly take the Earth
with you, too. How is that anything different from what I, and what the students, are doing?"

Naomasa sucked in a deep breath-- and forced a smile on his features. His hand clenched over his
heart, he faced the Octopus-- an unhappy smile to an unhappy smile.

"I'm not the smartest, sir-- but if I know something," Nao told the teacher, "it's the fact that, if I die-
- you and your explosion won't be the one to kill me."

Nao had to stop himself there, the voice hitching in his throat, the pain growing in his heart, and
the burn in his eyes threatening to show those pathetic, pathetic tears.

If he was going to hurt this much, he wouldn't have said this at all.

But he did, and now, he was going to forget it and pretend nothing happened. Things will go back
to normal tomorrow-- and even if it wouldn't, Nao was going to pretend it was.

That was how life in this world worked for him.

Putting his hand down, Nao walked past Korosensei, and pushed the chair of his desk in.

"We're not having classes today, so I guess it's about time I start heading home," Nao spoke almost
too casually, smiling his usual joyful farce and packing his stuff.

He threw his back over one shoulder, and turned back to the Octopus, brightly.

"See you tomorrow, sir!"

And he simply left.

 in the end, he is an educational professor.

"So, Akabane..." Naomasa scrutinized the boy sternly, "for this term, your Japanese and English
grades were the highest in our class. Actually, you had everything best in class, that's splendid."

On the table before them, five papers were strewn clearly over the top, showing each subject and
respective grades given.

Karma stood casually, but there was that stiff tension in his shoulders, and his usual proud smile
wasn't there.

Naomasa gazed down at him, almost disappointed.

"Look here, Akabane," Nao placed his hand on the English paper-- "you made four spelling errors,
two of which are basic words. And here--" he gestured at the Japanese paper, "a grammatical
error."

The air was thick, and cold sweat dripped.

"Frankly," Naomasa mumbled, "these were mistakes that could've been easily solved if you'd given
your paper a once-over, but you neglected to."

Karma's chin drooped, and Naomasa caught him swallowing nervously.

"Which basically, I infer--" Naomasa crossed his arms, "you would've gotten perfect grades on
these two subjects."

No one moved, terrified of the growing anger bubbling right out of the teacher. It was rare to see
him that irritated, disappointed--

In a way, Nao was just like the teachers in main campus. Grades were an important factor in life,
more important in Kunugigaoka Junior High. Those who were taught by him before knew just how
impatient Nao could get when it came to studies.

If he wasn't angrily reprimanding you for your lack of serious attitude, he was giving up on you
and deciding you a lost cause. It was tough to say which was worse, but here Karma quite preferred
the latter.

"In conclusion--" Nao's eyes shot into a glare, erecting a flinch from the redhead--

Naomasa snatched the papers right off the table, throwing them into the air.

"You're a prodigious asshole!" Naomasa declared, raising his hand and pointing at the boy, "those
who hate Akabane, throw an eraser at him!"

"Huh?" Karma was baffled, "wait--"

The class rioted, and erasers showered on the red-haired punk.

Naomasa boisterously laughed, and the class bolted around, hunting for every eraser they could
find.

Nagisa was so taken aback, "what is this."

Kayano was too surprised to compose a reaction. Her face was frozen in pardon my
japanoexcuseme but, not even knowing how people were supposed to respond to this situation.

Everyone bolted right out of their seats, laughing as they picked up erasers and aimed at the boy
that was top of their class, finding humour in the suddenly provided opportunity.

Another thing many people who were taught by Naomasa know-- was that he hated gloomy
expressions. Sullen students were a contemporary existence after every term examinations-- as
such, he'd always do something unexpected to lift their spirits.

Outside the door, Karasuma sighed.

"What, here I thought everyone's grades were rock bottom," Nao went around class, taking a peek
at everyone's report cards, "Nagisa's risen from previous term, that's awesome!"

Nagisa shrank, unsure of that-- he was 105th among 186 students-- that was in the loser pedestal. In
Kunugigaoka standards, that was still quite terrible.

"Oh, Terasaka's 159th?" he announced.

"HEY! who said you could look--" Terasaka shot back, angered.

"Terasaka's the lowest in class," Naomasa was still smiling, "so doesn't that mean you've won
against twenty-seven of those main campus dolts?"

He went silent.

"Despite being Class E, right?" Naomasa smiled.

Being him, Yoshida cracked into a little chuckle.

"Kuma-sensei, you're so positive, huh," Hazama stated her observation with the tone of a tired
corpse, "even though you're entirely negative about everything else."

"Well, that's quite rude of you," Naomasa straightened his back, speaking obnoxiously with a smirk
on his face, "I'm rather positive about everything negative, too."

When a few others started laughing, Naomasa almost smiled victoriously.

"Grades won't change after exams. Looking at it will only bring you down, and remembering it
will eventually consume you," he told the class, taking his place at the front of the room. "Look at
it positively, take the mistakes as hearty jokes, and remember each step as a bump in your journey."

The students gazed at their teacher thoughtfully-- considering, deeply.

"I'm not saying this will really help raise your grades or anything!" Naomasa established with a
chortle, "it's just more fun that way, right?"

He placed his hand at the blackboard.

"I won't say 'to hell with grades', because that's just pitifully escaping reality," Naomasa grinned,
"but exams are a war game, and to get to the goal most efficiently-- you're supposed to have fun!"
he knocked a fist in his own chest, "remember that, alright?"
Somehow-- just somehow, their childish little teacher made them feel a little better.

Maybe it was the smile he always had on. The positivism he exuded, the bright and joyful air that
really made them enjoy his companionship.

Maybe it was his strange way of encouragement, a method the main campus teacher would've
scorned. It wasn't a way that chased for results, nor a way that pushed for improvement.

It was a way of enjoyment, of cherishing and finding pleasure even in things they disliked. To go
from despise to hate, from hate to dislike, from dislike to obligation, and from obligation to
volition.

And they really couldn't hate it.

"A second blade?" Nao asked.

Kurahashi Hinano nodded dejectedly, "it's hard to get," she sighed, "Korosensei said we weren't
qualified to be assassins, so... it just really makes you realize that this assassin business is more
surreal than it seems, y'know?"

Naomasa couldn't suppress the chuckle that rumbled from his throat.

"It's something that's not easy to sink in," he told her, "but at the end of the day, if you pretend this
is how it should be, you'll feel much better."

Okano leaned in, interested, "come to think of it, Kuma-sensei wasn't very surprised at Korosensei
at all!" she giggled, "even though all of us were so baffled the first couple of days."

"In a way, Korosensei was more surprised by Kuma-sensei than the other way around," Maehara
agreed with a chuckle. He picked up a can of coffee from the vending machine, tossing it at the
teacher before slipping in coins for another of his own.

"Don't you think it's tiring to always be surprised my something? Ah right, thanks," Naomasa
crunched it open, taking a quick sip with gratitude a murmur under his tongue, "my heart can't
handle that amount of stress every day, so I've adapted and evolved to survive the change in
environment. Remember that, it's biology or something."

"As usual, Kuma-sensei and his textbook answers," Kurahashi sighed, "aren't you more suited to
being a biology teacher instead, since you always quote from science?"

"Trust me, Kurahashi, you won't understand a thing of what I'm saying," Naomasa chortled,
"mainly because I don't, either."

Okano almost facefaulted, "yet you quote accurately from textbooks," she was bewildered.

"If you hate a subject, and it's not math, crush it into every crevice of your brain and you'll get
there somehow," Naomasa told them, "my passion was always for language, so I could
compromise on my science and math grades."

At that, Kurahashi seemed to be inspired, "then-- does that mean if I'm not great at languages, I
could spin my focus on the other subjects instead?"

"I'm not good at studying, but," Okano supplied carefully, "if I pursue something in athletics and
gymnastics, maybe..."

Nao paused, realizing his mistake.

He was a lackadaisical, carefree man that cared not for grades. He closed down paths he didn't like
and charged through with the bare minimum, and this wasn't at all an easy route.

Hell, he only agreed to come to Kunugigaoka Junior High because it was the only school that
opted to employ him. He would have sold his soul for any other school, but he couldn't keep
relying on Ms Sakurai for his living expenses...

The way he was speaking now, he was going to make sure these kids didn't look toward the
hardworking route. That was the exact opposite of what Korosensei was doing-- and if anything,
made him a nuisance.

"Then--" Maehara was speaking up.

"Of course not!" Nao knocked a book on his head, interrupting him. The knock was gentle and
barely felt, but the noise was a loud one.

This spurred the three's attention.

"Your future isn't something you decide on a whim," Naomasa told them, "once you start to think
that you don't need this, or you don't need that-- your roads will start to close and your future will
begin to darken."

Naomasa turned to them, the coffee in his hand saturated with condensation, dripping to his wrist.

"I decided my passion on my last year of high school, and as you can see, my job's in shambles and
my life's been tough to keep going. I'm not earning enough cash and I'm leeching this coffee off
from our dear friend Maehara over there."

Maehara tried to tell the teacher that was okay, but Naomasa glared at him.

"So, what I'm saying is, kids," Naomasa grinned, "a passion has to be something you can roll with
without affecting the rest of your life. A passion is something that isn't just your hobby, it's also
something you derive joy from despite your hobby."

Seeing confused looks, Naomasa laughed. He leaned back, deciding to find an example.

Naomasa put a hand at his chest, "let say-- Takebayashi! He's an otaku, so what's the stereotypical
view of his future job?"

Okano was surprised to be pointed at-- so Naomasa was telling her to give an answer.

"Uh," she stuttered, "a mangaka? or an artist, an animation person-- an animator, is that what
they're called? I don't really... know Takebayashi that well..."

"Well, that's the most stereotypical view of it..." Kurahashi mumbled. Maehara nodded, subtly
agreeing.

Naomasa chuckled. "Well, if you ask me--" he raised a finger, "Takebayashi has above average
grades in Science! well, his other subjects are mediocre but that's besides the point," he smiled,
"there's a strong possibility he'll become a world-changing scientist in the future, y'know!"

This caused a sudden silence.

"Huhh," Kurahashi was appalled, "well..."

"It doesn't really seem likely," Maehara admitted.

"I mean, Takebayashi?" Okano eyed her friends, skeptical. "No way."

Naomasa sighed, dejected. "Why do you think that?" After all, it was true that Takebayashi and
Okuda would become world-changing scientists... oh.

"We're the E-as-in-End Class, y'know?" Okano told her teacher, "it's hard to think some of us can
have such an... incredible profession in the future. Maybe except Karma."

"Okuda seems like she might be able to do it, though!" Kurahashi chimed.

"But she's kinda gullible, no?" Maehara sighed.

"Well, you're a playboy with no other qualities," Kurahashi retorted.

"You're mean," Maehara whimpered.

The E Class mindset, Naomasa couldn't help but sigh at it. While it was true it was difficult to
think of their future when their present is grim as hell--

"Look, you three," Naomasa almost barked, animosity growling under his tongue, "Kurahashi's
approachable and friendly, Okano's a gymnast expert, and Maehara's... well, you're handsome and
pretty independent so you'll get by somehow."

"Kuma-sensei, I'm hurt," Maehara sobbed.

"Anyways, you may have ground grades, but that doesn't mean you're without talent," Naomasa
told them coldly, "in that sense, you're entirely equal with the students in main campus. Some of
you are greatly above them, too."

The three gulped, not at all used to the angered and disappointed look in that teacher's eyes.

"Principal Asano is a smart man. He is raising strong, independent students that can and will
essentially live with their lives laid out in front of them," Naomasa established, "but as a result, you
guys are rendered worms that have to crawl their way around and barely survive at all. He's closed
down your future, and instead of opening those doors, you're simply accepting it. tell me-- who are
the more pathetic ones here?"

The three looked sullen-- but a spark of irritation was in their eyes. Naomasa felt they were ready
to fight back, but were biting their tongues in resist.

"That octopus told you guys this," Naomasa put his coffee down, "those who don't wield a second
blade have no right to be the assassins that take his life."

Naomasa put a hand on Maehara's shoulder.

"It applies to life as strongly as it does to assassination," Naomasa spoke sternly, raising a closed
fist, "if you keep your eyes on the one goal you hold in your hand, you'll never see the alternatives
written on the back of your palm. If you keep thinking to yourself that 'this is the only way', you
won't realize when you've gone by too many crossroads to retrace your steps."

When Naomasa looked up at them again, the ire in their eyes were gone, and now, they only had
interest. They were filled with aspirations, thoughts, and deep considerations.

"I'm not someone to look up to," Naomasa reminded them, a smirk rising, "after all, I'm a teacher
that almost got in trouble for punching a kid's face black and blue!"

Naomasa sipped on his coffee, and gave the three a hasty rub on the head.

"My hair!" Okano freaked out.

"Kuma-sensei, that thing took hours to set this morning--" Maehara mourned.

"Well, my hair's curly, so there's no real difference," Kurahashi mumbled, her hair sticking out in
weird places.

"Well, you have the year to think about it!" Naomasa laughed, "and if you can't decide, keep
studying and maybe you'll get somewhere! well, that's what I did."

When Naomasa left to return to the staffroom, he had a feeling the three of them were just a little
more enlightened than they were before.

The tests were over, after all.

This was the time for rejoicing and celebrating-- it wasn't the time for sadness and melancholy and
future-risking considerations.
 and so the weak one laments.

"You want to see me now ?"' Naomasa gawked, disbelief slurring right through his tongue,
making sure the doctor on the other end really heard the reluctance. "I've got a school trip to
make, doctor. Can't we do this after I get back?"

"It's urgent," the doctor sternly responded.

Naomasa didn't like that tone. It didn't have the snarky, talking-down voice Matsukawa usually
used. This was almost grim in comparison, demotivated.

Naomasa had a feeling this really meant he wasn't supposed to fool around now.

"You aren't going to tell me I can't go, right?" He asked, just in case.

"I won't," Matsukawa's voice faltered, as if holding back a broken plea, "there'd be no point in it."

Naomasa felt his stomach drop in dread.

"Kuma-sensei, no!" Kataoka Megu sharply reprimanded, snatching the soda right out of her
teacher's hands, "you had ice cream, a lollipop, and two cans of coffee! that's enough sugar for you,
sir!"

Nao made a noise a mixture of a cry and a grumble, then sobbed, "but..."

Kataoka glanced at her teacher condescendingly, almost motherly, her hand at her hip and the other
clutching the fizzy drink.

"It'll be dangerous if your blood sugar or pressure goes up, y'know?" Okano Hinata scolded him,
"you have to take care of yourself more!"

Nao drooped his head, solemnly complying, "it's like I have two new mothers," he whined.

A tentacle slithered past them, and before they realized, the soda was gone from Kataoka's hand.

"Nurufufufu!" the octopus snickered, sipping on a drink that wasn't his, "too much sugar would be
bad for you, Kuma-sensei!"

"The fact that you are telling me that pisses me off," Naomasa pouted. "And I paid for that! Return
it!"

"You've stolen plenty of my gelato too," the creature retorted easily.

"Tsk," Naomasa clicked his tongue. "I'll get you back for this one day, octopus."

Korosensei merely Nurufufufu-ed in his corner.

"Your laugh is just some KHR ripoff," Nao sneered.

"I have no idea what that is, but I'm not a ripoff!" Korosensei snapped right back.
"I wonder if there's an Octopus Fruit in One Piece," Nao grumbled under his breath, going into an
even softer grumble at "it'd fit him perfectly because they both can't swim."

He wondered if Korosensei heard that, but Nao didn't mind.

He did notice Korosensei's eyes narrow in confusion, though.

"I'm sorry," and there was nothing else Matsukawa could force out of himself.

Naomasa hated it. Hated this sticky air, hated this repulsive stench of medicine. He hated the noise
of machines, the groaning roll of those carts. The hushed chattering in the cacophony. The painful
silence when the door closed.

The fluttering of paper and plastic and life.

"Explain," Naomasa almost demanded.

His fists were clenched over his knees, his knuckles white from effort. His heart cramming
painfully in his ears, his teeth tearing over his bottom lip.

"I can't," Matsukawa's voice was nothing short of a sob. Naomasa had never seem his as despaired
as now-- "it's just... that's just exactly what's happening."

Naomasa felt anger explode in him, crawling over every depth of his body, making every nerve in
him writhe in agony, disgust, disdain, misery.

"You're a doctor," Nao seethed, "if you don't fix me, who will?"

Matsukawa buried his face in his hands-- and let out a shaky breath.

He had no reply.

"Are you not joining the students?" Karasuma spoke up, noticing the teacher lounging around the
chair of the room, watching the wind.

Naomasa shook his head, "a little solo journeying outside is what they'd like on a class trip," he
told the older man, "I'll leave supervision to Octo-target."

Karasuma huffed, mumbling something about a rather lazy colleague of his. Naomasa chuckled at
that, not denying it at all.

"What about you, Karasuma-san?" Naomasa asked, "Ms Jelavic's out shopping."

Karasuma sighed, "I will be out, working, and if possible, watching over the students," he decided,
smoothing out the creases in his suit, "if you leave, do lock up."

Naomasa nodded, giving a hum in compliance.

"Tell the students to be careful out there," he offered.

"Will do," Karasuma complied.

Naomasa slammed his hand on the table, the papers leaping and scattering to the ground.

"You've kept this from me for more than a decade," he growled, furious, "and when I'm finally in
the know, it's because you can't fix it?"

Matsukawa made no excuses. Made no action of denial. the only thing on his face was pity,
anguish, guilt... and weakness.

Naomasa crunched the papers in his hand, "why can't you talk to me?" Naomasa found himself
near tears. "Make up an excuse, tell me you're trying your best or something. Why are you just
letting me yell at you? this isn't like you at all."

When Matsukawa looked up, those eyes were red. Those eyes were sagged with bluish grey bags,
heavier than ever, so saddened even tears were not enough for them.

Naomasa faltered, but didn't want to break.

"We don't know what's even happening, Naomasa," Matsukawa admitted, a voice croaking out a
plea, handing folded before him like a prayer, a call for salvation and miracle--

Naomasa could only sit back down, quiet.

Naomasa was wandering around the inn when a rising heat in his chest broke out into a hard,
painful coughing fit. He faltered, balance losing altitude-- he leaned heavily against the wall,
mouth muffling down the noise and hoping it'd cover up some pain too.

Because he'd never coughed hard enough to actually hurt this bad before.

One hand folded over his mouth, and the other clenched tightly over the center of his chest, whines
of throe unable to escape, shut out by the hacking-up he couldn't stop.

His eyes clenched shut, and he waited for it to pass.

He felt something bitter crawl up his throat, and it took him a while to realize the sour, coppery
taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, the sight of his hand almost made a sob rip from his throat. The warm
dampness at the corners of his mouth, with each breeze of the wind sending a cold, sticky shiver
through his skin.

The red, bright red that painted his hand reminded him of a murderer's. Splotches over faded, like
paint, yet the pungent waft of iron blew through his nose, the sensation squelched over his palm
like a viscous, syrupy liquid--
He furled his fingers over the most of it, but it peeked through the brims of his fingers, stained his
nails an ugly shade of gore-- yet, he couldn't look away.

His head hurt. His chest felt like a mallet was constantly beating it in deeper. There was that block
in his throat, as if he was ready to throw up, but he knew there was nothing else he could muster.

His fingers were shaking even though he didn't think he was scared. He wasn't cold, either. He was
just tired, weak, so exhausted--

His vision was blurring out, but he wasn't thinking about it. His body was giving up, but he wasn't
registering it. He was falling, but he couldn't catch it.

Oh, he almost took too long to realize, it's true.

He heard the noise of a panic, of a woman screaming for help of some sort-- the shuffling of feet,
the hustle of a rush-- and the ringing of his ears.

"I first recorded traces of it when you were nine," Matsukawa began to explain, "we didn't think
much of it, because it wasn't as clear to us-- but we assume it was a mistake in the previous
surgery and simply sealed it back in."

Naomasa knew that much. It was the reason his brother came running back home from his studies
overseas, and ended up having to redo his courses from square one.

"It occurred again five years later, and with no further option, we signed you up for a donor,"
Matsukawa recalled, "you had a transplant the year after that, and all was fine."

Naomasa wasn't interested in this. He knew this. He's heard this plenty of times. He remembers
this.

"As you know, we had two more surgeries after that," Matsukawa raised his fingers, "not including
the one from a number of weeks ago."

"Get to the point," Naomasa barked.

"You're abnormal," Matsukawa, pressured, let it out bluntly. He didn't know a nicer way to put it,
but it was taking all he had to not cry from speaking at all. "You don't make sense, and neither does
your condition. And because of that... I don't think science can heal you."

Naomasa's eyes widened.

"Look," Matsukawa scratched his head, erratically, "your heart is-- it's working, it's beating, and
blood is flowing through it normally. But in every aspect other than that-- it's not normal."

Naomasa tensed-- not liking this one bit.

"How do I say this, it's--" Matsukawa couldn't find the words, "over the cardiac
muscle, gangrene is growing ...and that's eroding the tissue, creating more holes each time we see
you."

When Naomasa went completely silent, Matsukawa bit his bottom lip, looking away.
The only thing he could say was a grief-stricken "I'm sorry."

"Good morning, Kunomasu-sensei."

When Nao woke up, he was watching the inn's ceiling, laying under the futon, and there wasn't
bright sunlight beaming through the window.

At the corner of his sight, he found an IV drip, half filled, attached to the back of his palm.

Naomasa sighed.

"The students were rather worried for you," Korosensei made himself known beside the teacher,
leaning over carefully, "especially since the inn contacted Karasuma."

Naomasa put a hand over his eyes, thinking deeply.

"What happened?" he asked, unable to cough up a further question.

"The inn sent you to the hospital," Korosensei explained, "we are unsure of what went on inside the
hospital, but they sent you back with words of only assurance."

Korosensei didn't seem pleased. Maybe he was angered at the hospital's irresponsibility. Or maybe
he was just too worried, and that was why he didn't look happy at all, even with the smile on his
face.

When Korosensei helped Naomasa up, he gathered that Karasuma may be on the other side of the
room, beyond the shield doors that were pulled shut.

"Matsukawa probably contacted them," Naomasa mumbled, "so they don't need to do anything for
me, I'll be fine."

Korosensei's face grew red with anger, "that is not alright, Kunomasu-sensei!" he snapped sharply,
"your health is very vital! there are various risks in falling terribly sick during a school trip, and--"

"Why does my health matter to you if you're going to destroy the earth, anyways?" Naomasa spoke
almost too quickly, a bite of acrimony spilling out of him.

Korosensei flinched, surprised.

Naomasa knew that was rude of him, so he clenched a hand over his chest, and let out a forced
laughter. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "well, I think our students will kill you before you get to blow
up the earth, after all."

He expected Korosensei to reply with something along the lines of 'I wouldn't be killed by my
students!', but Naomasa received no reply from the teacher.

The blank expression was sending waves of a warning, a threat, of kind anger.

And Naomasa shrank, regretful.

He looked at his own hand-- now clean, no longer splashed with blood. His chest didn't hurt
anymore, and his head was clear.
But the pain was vivid in his mind.

"Look, I..." Naomasa swallowed his words. He knew Korosensei was listening. He knew
Karasuma was listening behind the shutters.

But the words just came out.

"I don't have long to live."

The faint surprised that flashed over Korosensei's body language elicited a laugh from the young
teacher. Korosensei's body jolted ever so slightly, eyes blank as ever, empty and much too fake.

"It's terminal," Naomasa explained, "I don't know how long I'll last."

Almost as if he'd snapped out of it, Korosensei bolted to panic.

"What do you mean, it's terminal??" he all but freaked out. "Did you already know this from the
start? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Naomasa couldn't help but laugh, "I found out just this morning!" he said brightly, "well, I did
know I'd die early, but I reeeeally didn't think it'd be this early, y'know."

"Why are you so happy about it??" Korosensei was right about to cry.

"You, too," Naomasa smiled, "reduced to such a devastating, sorry state, why do you wear that
mask of a smile?"

Korosensei stopped right there.

"We're both simply waiting for the day we'll die," Naomasa's face fell, looking out the window in
melancholy, "there's nothing we can do about it, so there's no reason to be devastated by it."

A yellow tentacle landed on Naomasa's shoulder-- and another gave a soft smack at his face.

"It's not good to lie," Korosensei lectured, his face staying yellow and blank, "even the vilest of
creatures fear imminent death." Naomasa realized that was truer than it sounded-- "those who hide
it are weaker than the ones that show it."

Naomasa bit his lip-- and sharply turned away, holding his cheek. "If I was scared of death," he
choked out, "I'd always be scared."

Korosensei's face grew green stripes. "Nurufufu! and what is wrong with that?"

His answer was rather surprising to Naomasa.

"Fear is something you overcome, something you live with and walk with," Korosensei smiled,
"there are many things to fear, but the things we love much outweighs that."

Naomasa felt a light bloom in his chest.

"The love you hold for each and every one of your students is a precious sight," Korosensei smiled
proudly, "you adore Ms Sakurai, and your respect for Dr Matsukawa is also a sight to see."

Naomasa was biting his bottom lip, not taking it in. But it was just going in. He was supposed to
know this, to understand this, but he was denying it.
"If I love too much," Naomasa felt the tear escape him, "it'll be harder when I need to leave."

"But if you love too little," Korosensei assured him, "no one will remember you ever lived."

Naomasa put his hand at his chest, and gave in. He let the tears flow through him, he let the
emotions overwhelm him.

He didn't need anyone to convince him he should let it all out.

He was just so full of remorse he simply didn't want to care anymore.

His past life was cut short. Much too short.

She didn't achieve anything. Left so much behind. Wasted so much time. Filled with unfulfillment,
cursed with the weight of unattained goals.

He could mourn and mourn and mourn and mourn but no.

He couldn't go back. He couldn't go and-- give her brother that punch in the face, give her mother
that hug, send her father that letter-- couldn't make it into that college, couldn't get that dream job.
Couldn't give him that gift she promised.

He was just thrown into this new life, knowing too much of everything, understanding how much
he could no longer do, his emotions dwelling in the broken past, his head much taking too long to
adapt to what he eventually realized was just another roller coaster.

One that would end with a crash into concrete.

Now, he had to take in this.

It was a fucking joke. It had to be. Like hey, here's your second chance at life. Just kidding. This
time I'm gonna tell you how early you'll die instead! Have fun.

A sickening, bullshit joke.

He was so tired of this.

Even death wasn't a fucking escape. Even death wasn't solace. It was just an entrance to a new-
levelled agony and just how unfair it was broke him down further.

He cried.

Harder, louder, he just cried.

He couldn't bear it anymore.

He just wanted to live.

That was all he wanted.
 in this eerie exchange, he smiles.

"Kuma-sensei!"

Kurahashi Hinano was the first to notice the yukata-clad teacher walk over to the common area,
arms crossed, tucked inside his yukata instead of the sleeves they belonged in.

It left his chest partially bare, but he wasn't particularly bothered by it.

"Oh, hi guys," the teacher waved with a smile

"Don't 'hi guys!' me!" Maehara retorted on reflex, looking ready to bust a vein, "do you have any
idea how worried we were? The hospital called and--"

"Oh, Kanzaki, you're awesome at that game!" Naomasa went right past the over-endearing student,
inching over to where the black-haired girl was fiddling away expertly at the arcade cabinet.

Upon noticing the teacher, she flinched and was petrified, which resulted in her instant death, but
that wasn't on her mind at all.

"Kuma-sensei!" she called out worriedly, "are you okay?

"Am I?" Naomasa asked back with confused expression, faking a thinker's pose, "or am I actually
a zombie and I don't notice it?"

"Don't joke about that!" Yada snapped.

"You guys aren't any fun at all," Naomasa pouted, "what's a little blood spurting every now and
then? Some old guy does that on a daily basis and he's still the Number One Hero--"

"We were worried sick, Kuma-sensei," Kataoka Megu sighed, "you really should tell us when
you're not feeling well, y'know?"

"That's right!" Okano Hinata agreed, raising a fist as Sugino nodded, "we couldn't relax after that!
Did you hear, Kayano's group had a run in with--"

"That was scary," Okuda piped in, nervous, "some older, high school boys just came out of
nowhere and..."

"Kanzaki-san is super pretty, so I was worried," Kayano wrapped herself around Kanzaki's arm,
"but don't worry, they didn't do anything to us!"

"Don't worry, we all clobbered them good!" Karma assured.

"Those super-thick guidebooks did come in handy, after all," Nagisa looked so defeated, "though,
for more reasons than its content."

"Sounds like a lot happened while I was gone," Nao mused, "I have a lot to catch up on!"

Then they spent the next good while talking about things that happened on their day.

About how Korosensei caught a bullet with yatsuhashi; how his mucus could stop a bullet; even
things like the dumb scenarios in the guidebooks; how they tried to peek into Korosensei's bthing
time, to no avail; or how Mimura managed to bonk Takebayashi in the head with a ping pong ball
just now.

"Are you really alright now, Kuma-sensei?" asked Isogai, his concern was evident on his face.

Everyone's faces went sullen, and honest gazes were curved to him. There was no room for lies, no
leeway to escape from a proper answer.

The mood was dim, and Naomasa was compelled to smile against it.

"At least for now," Nao assured them the best he could, "I'm fine."

"Do you have a guy you like?" Nakamura Rio began gossiping excitedly, nearly the second after
they settled into their bedroom.

"Oh, love story time?" Irina teased, settling down by the crowd of snacks, popping open a beer.

"Don't you think Karasuma-sensei is super cool?" Kurahashi chimed in eagerly, "like, he's so
fatherly and stuff."

"In looks alone, Maehara's got him beat, though!" Okano supplied.

"Karasuma-sensei's got that professional air about him," Fuwa Yuzuki agreed with Kurahashi.

"Isogai's a natural playboy, too," Kataoka offered.

"Chiba's got that cool and quiet persona of his, too!" Kayano suggested.

"What about Kuma-sensei?" Yada nominated, "I think I like him."

"Uhn," Kanzaki agreed, "Kuma-sensei is really mature, but quite childlike, too. Isn't it quite cute?"

"Kuma-sensei wears his yukata weirdly," someone joked.

"His jokes make no sense, though," Hazama muttered. Considering she was the queen of dark
humour, that spoke volumes.

"Honestly," Nakamura admitted with a dry laugh, "I'd take him, but without the anxiety he causes."

"That's right, too!"

"Hehh, well, nice to be young and have puppy crushes on teachers," Irina mused, taking a sip out
of her beer, "it's adorable."

"Boo, Bitch-sensei, you're too old to understand a young maiden's heart!" someone teased.

"Who're you calling old?!" she snapped, "I'll have you know I'm still twenty!"

"You're TWENTY??"

"Kuma-sensei, coffee again?" Karma almost sighed, defeated, "you know that's why you're
stunted."

At the coincidental meeting, the teacher picked up a can from the vending machine, sending a
raised-eyebrow look at his student.

"How rude," Naomasa groaned, popping the can open, "that's what you should be saying to the
author of this story. I'm plenty tall, thank you."

"Tall, but you're still shorter than Karasuma-sensei," Karma waved his teacher off, sipping on his
own can of juice.

They began walking in the direction of their rooms, with a rather comfortable and friendly air
filling the atmosphere around them.

"Why don't you do something about your strawberry milk addiction? Diabetes," Nao hissed.

"At least I drinking something that aids my growth," Karma retorted. "And this is orange juice," he
raised his can, "you should try something healthier for once, y'know."

"Oh, you're the last person that gets to lecture me, Mr Delinquent," Naomasa joshed.

Naomasa munched on a rabbit-shaped steamed bun, tapping away at the keyboard of his laptop.

"Kunomasu-sensei, shouldn't you be resting?"

Nao shrieked a disgracefully "Gya!!!" and nearly jumped to the ceiling, bolting away from his
spot as the octopus gusted right in and beside him.

Nao didn't miss Karasuma's flinch on the other end of the room.

"D-Don't, Don't surprise me like that," Naomasa felt his heart pace rapidly.

"Oh, my apologies," Korosensei snickered, "but not to worry, if by chance, your heart fails, I boast
medical skills on par with futuristic technology, seeing as I have my speed and precision and--"

"You and your tentacles are NOT touching me!" Nao retorted on reflex, shrinking away.

"Denied?!" Korosensei was devastated.

Naomasa hissed at the octopus, acting like a cat ready to fight. However, in the next moment, a
futon was laid out beside him, and Korosensei was at his back, tentacles at the man's shoulders.

"You should be resting, anyways!" he urged, "I let you take a dip at the hot springs and have a chat
with the students, now sleep!"

Naomasa gritted his teeth with a murderous glare. "I'm fine," he seethed.

Korosensei actually shrieked and shrank back.

"Unlike you, I don't have Mach 20," Naomasa stretched his sore muscles, "and I'm not as capable
as you in teaching. I can't plan my lessons as efficiently as you can, and worksheets I made are
generalized for each student I have."

Naomasa settled back down before his laptop, readjusting the crooked screen.

"A lax overtime is equal to leisure for me," he assured, "so you don't need to worry about me.
Thanks for the concern."
Korosensei sighed, seemingly resigned.

"Mr Karasuma is looking after me here," Naomasa pointed at the cranky handsome government
agent, then made a 'shoo, shoo' motion at the octopus, "so you can go back to bothering your
students and leave me alone."

"Am I a nuisance to you?" Korosensei sounded comically hurt, sobbing fake tears, or maybe there
was mucus in there too, "is that all I am to you?"

"You will, if you keep acting like a baby," Naomasa groaned, poking the octopus on the forehead,
and somehow the octopus was crouching down low enough to let him.

"Oh well," Korosensei sighed, stood up-- "I guess I'll drop by the girls' room, then..." he decided.
In the next moment, he was out like a whirlwind.

"Hold up, you perverted octopus!" Naomasa yelled into the air, "where do you think you're going?"

"CATCH HIM!!!"

"THERE HE IS!!!"

When Naomasa made his way around the hall, he'd realized he was too late. Well, not like he could
catch up to a Mach 20 troublemaker in the first place, but now the entire class was doing a
manhunt-- no, an octopushunt-- through the inn.

He yawned. It really was too late for this. I need to go lodge in an apology to the innkeeper...

"Huh, did the noise wake you, Kuma-sensei?" This was Kayano's voice. "You look sleepy."

Naomasa sighed with a dry chuckle, "well, I came to prevent the noise, but I was too late."

Stepping into the hall, Naomasa found Nagisa there too, gun in hand. greeting the teacher, the boy
tucked the pistol into his sleeve and smiled.

"So, tomorrow's the last day, huh..." Kayano giggled, "this school trip was really fun! We got to see
different sides of everyone, don't you think?"

Naomasa couldn't help but smile.

This was one of the many moments the students could really feel like children again-- it was a
luxury away from the pressure of academics, and an enjoyment the higher-class students would
never be able to fully entertain.

Naomasa really felt more comfortable within these bunch of students.

"Is something wrong, Nagisa?" Kayano spoke up, concerned for the boy's silence.

"Not really, I was just thinking..." Nagisa muttered. "This assassination lifestyle has only just
begun-- and I don't know if this world will really end next year or not, but..."

They casually trotted over toward the window, overlooking the outside scenery.

"One thing we can say for sure is that our class will come to an end next march," Nagisa was
almost confused about it-- as if he wasn't sure if he was to be sad or happy, or shocked, about it.
And Kayano was similarly unreadable. "That's true," she simply agreed.

Naomasa stood taller than the both of them, so he put his forearms over their heads, using them as
an armrest. Tall people privileges.

"Hey!" Nagisa was first to complain.

"That's mean, Kuma-sensei!" Kayano was next.

Naomasa burst into a fit of laughter. "What's with the down looks, kids?" he grinned widely, "it's
unfortunate that your school year will end-- but I'll promise you kids one thing--"

The two looked up, curiously, and almost expectantly.

He stood up straight, and raised a fist of assurance, "that octopus won't blow up the earth."

Kayano and Nagisa almost looked baffled, "and why are you so sure?"

Naomasa sighed, "because I can see the future!" he boasted, "and I know that the world will still
exist a year, two, or even seven years into the future!"

There was a moment of silence-- then the two children busted into synchronous giggles.

"Kuma-sensei, you really make weird jokes," Nagisa wiped a tear out of his eye, "but you were
trying to cheer us up, that really worked. Thank you."

"That's right," Kayano grinned at her teacher with confidence, "after all, I'm sure one of us will
manage to kill Korosensei before March, right?"

And Naomasa smiled back at that.

"Of course, Kayano."

"What even are you doing?" Naomasa raised an eyebrow at the octopus who was building a
fortress of futon at the corner of the room.

Naomasa was tucking himself into the futon, dimming out the light in his corner of the room so
Karasuma could work on the other side.

"I'm building my bed, of course!" Korosensei declared, matter-of-factly, "in fact, it turned out quite
well, don't you think?"

And before him was a real canopy bed, full of pillows and laid over with mosquito nets. Twelve
futons were stacked over each other--

"What are you, the princess and the pea??" Naomasa couldn't resist the retort.

Korosensei had the gall to blush.

Naomasa sighed, pulling the covers to his waist and looking in the teacher's direction with a forlorn
consideration.

Korosensei, catching that gaze, looked right back with interest.

I don't want to live forever, some idiot once declared, I'm fine enough just living through today to
the fullest, he was a man that grinned proudly, lived without regrets, and died too early in a war of
the best.

"Hey," Naomasa spoke up, pulling his knees to his chest. He smiled at Korosensei, "you and me,
who do you think will die first?"
 your facade fools no one.

"Good morning, sir, I am the Autonomously Intelligent Fixed Artillery, and artificial intelligence
sent under orders from the National Security to establish efforts in the assassination attempts of the
Unidentified Slimy Octopus, also known as 'Korosensei' among the students in this satellite branch
of Kunugigaoka Junior High."

Naomasa could literally do nothing but stare with a deadpan expression.

He had stayed over at campus, getting some late work done and getting a nap in the lab. Passing
through to the lavatory, he had come to meet this transfer student for the first time this life.

He didn't remember Ritsu being this talkative. Or maybe it was the overload of long vocabulary
that blew him away, but he really couldn't tell the girl she'd lost him at 'sir'.

She had that poker-faced smile, a programmed emptiness in her eyes.

Her hair, that crisp, mauve shade of violet-- a rather pleasing sight around the gray of their
uniforms. A little splash of colour right where we needed it.

"So," he had to take a moment to recall the full name and hoped he got it right, "Autonomously
Intelligent Fixed Artillery," he smiled, "I'm the Japanese Teacher, Kunomasu. I'm pleased to meet
you."

In the lone classroom at the crack of dawn, the two made each other strange impressions, and
parted right after.

They didn't ask anything-- not why the teacher was there, not why the student was a computer--
neither asked each other anything. They exchanged names, but neither addressed the other directly.
After the greeting made out of purely politeness, they failed to find conversation.

Simply sitting down on Hara's desk and looking out the window, they watched the sun rise in
silence.

"Good morning-- oops,"

Irina stepped into the staffroom for half a moment, looked in, saw a shirtless Nao, and instinctively
pulled the door back to shut it.

"Ah-" Nao fumbled, "sorry."

He had pulled off his sweaty shirt-- he'd slept in it-- and was ready to put on a new one, but first, he
needed a towel to wipe off his sweat--

"That's an incredible birthmark," Irina spoke up.

She had been standing at the door, absent-mindedly watching with interest.

Nao, turning to her, smiled back nervously. He wasn't too bothered, after all he was a man and
being shirtless isn't something scandalous-- he looked down, to the skin on his chest, a pearly
white shade gleaming a strange contrast against his naturally peachy skin.
His grand birthmark, large Lichtenberg figures trailing beautifully precise markings on his bare
skin. It was a sight to behold-- but if only this was drawn on some marble pottery instead of over
his heart.

"Cool, isn't it?" Nao spread his arms apart, almost showing them off, "they look like thunderstrike
scars, don't they?"

Irina shrunk slightly, a light wince passing her features, "those are birthmarks, not scars, right?"

Almost abruptly, Nao burst into laughter.

"Of course!" he teased, "look at how large it is! If I was struck this hard and so close to my heart,
there's no way I'd survive, right? I mean, with my heart condition to consider, too."

"Wha-" she cringed, "well, obviously, but--" she stuttered, "a birthmark with such a defined and
precise shape-- that's just... scientifically and logically impossible."

Scientifically, birthmarks are caused by abnormal blood vessels under the skin, or by the clustering
of pigment cells. Thus, they are usually in odd, strange shapes and sizes.

"Dunno," Nao reached for his clean dress shirt, pulling off the buttons and beginning to pull his
arms through the sleeves, "maybe I was struck by thunder in a past life!"

"What are you, an edgy teenager?" Irina snapped comically, "geez, I've had enough of you and
your irritating mysterious facade." She stepped into the room, placing her bag on her desk and
settling down for a new day of work.

Nao only smiled, rather sadly.

Nao walked along the hallways, holding a short stack on books in one hand and a mug of coffee in
the other.

As he passed the classroom, he noticed people groaning and whining, holding brooms and
dustpans--

Just as he turned to look over, he noticed his foot wasn't on solid ground. In fact, it was sliding--
slipping-- wait did I just step on a BB pellet WAIT--

He reached for a foothold that wasn't there, and tried to grab something to prevent his fall, but there
wasn't anything around.

With a disgraceful shriek, he collapsed and scattered everything over the floor.

Landing on his bottom, with all his papers and books splashed over himself, a distinct "I saved the
coffee!" from Karma in the distance was heard.

"Save him!" Sugino retorted.

"Are you alright, Kuma-sensei?" Kataoka called out, worried.

"The bullets scattered this far?" Isogai fussed, extending a hand to help the teacher up.
"Oh no, the papers are in a mess," Kanzaki realized, crouching down to gather them, "and, our
workbooks," she noticed.

As the students helped him gather his items and deposited them on the teacher's desk, Naomasa
wondered briefly why he was so blessed with company. These kids were good kids, he
acknowledged, wanting to shed a fake tear like Korosensei always did, no ulterior motives even.

"So, is Ms Autonomously Thinking something-this-and-that causing everyone trouble?" Nao

brought up the topic casually, taking his coffee-- Karma, did you drink half of my coffee-- and
making his slightly more careful way into the classroom.

"That's right," Sugino whined, "it just pulled out all these crazy machine guns and just started some
kinda bulldozing rampage on Korosensei!"

At that, Nao burst out laughing.

"Well, I'd have loved to see that!" he patted the boy on the head, turning toward the machine at the
back of the classroom, which was blank now, "is it going well for Ms Autonomous?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Nakamura groaned, leaning back on her chair, "at the cost of our sanity."

Nao couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"I'm seriously losing my mind!" Yoshida spoke up, clawing his hair out.

"How many times do we have to clean up all of these? They're not easy to sweep, y'know?!"
Terasaka raged, pointing his broom accusingly at the teacher.

"How convenient," Nao smiled, putting his hands together in elation, "phrase those frustrated
emotions into proper sentences and you'll write a splendid essay. I expect it tomorrow morning."

"Did I just get homework? Kuma-sensei??"

"Well, since we're almost about done, how about we settle down and begin class?" Nao suggested,
"we'll talk about narrative essays this time, so-"

"Narrative essays are those essays where we can go wild, right?" Fuwa chimed up eagerly, excited,
"like short stories! Oneshots!"

"That's not a wrong way to take essay-writing, Fuwa, but if you write like that, you'll run out of
time," Nao chuckled. He turned around and drew a mountain on the blackboard-- "a plot diagram is
vital to score. You start your story at the foot of a hill, climb up to the climax, and go down to the
valley where your journey ends."

"Oh, like dungeon manga! You make it to the end and come back out a hero!"

"Fuwa, dungeon manga were literally made to never end," Nao was sour, "essays have to be short
and sweet, and painfully simple. A strong concept like ninjas, mages, wizards, or aliens, or
zombies, just won't make it," Nao explained.

"Magical girls?"

"You can manage one episode of Precure, but you can't flaunt Homura Akemi without destroying
the beauty of her tragedy," Nao answered simply.

"Then, dragons!"
"Fantasy is difficult, Fuwa. For essays, you have to prioritise points over enjoyment!" Nao said
sternly, "it's nice to have inspiration from manga, but if you reference them too much, you'll lose
points for plagiarism!"

"Are references plagiarism?!" Fuwa shot her hand up, asking before she was acknowledged.

"No, but you'll have nightmares with copyright agencies," Nao answered swiftly, "unless you're a
gorilla that wants to be a cheeseburger, I highly do not recommend it."

Nao was silent, arms folded sharply.

Two seconds passed, and he assured himself Fuwa would now be quiet. He waited five more
seconds just to be sure-- casting a warning glance at the girl that looked like she was experiencing
an existential crisis.

He breathed out, relieved.

He was totally expecting that. Yes, he was. Definitely. At least it didn't take the entire hour to win
against her this time.

"Alright then, shall we move on?"

And with a toothy grin, class continued with laughter.

 to analyze the enigma.

"Kuma-sensei, you don't seem very interested in our new student, are you?" Korosensei asked as
the teacher returned to the staffroom.

Nao made his way to the desk, Korosensei popping to drape a shawl around his shoulder, and a cup
of coffee was sent to the teacher's hands, like a butlery routine.

Stopped by the door in bewildered surprise, Nao wondered if this was a bribe.

"Well, she wasn't on when it was my class," Nao muttered with a rather disappointed sigh, "and
regardless, I'd already introduced myself to her in the morning."

"This morning?" Korosensei asked, "which reminds me, when did you go home last night?"

"I stayed over," as a matter of fact.

Korosensei shrieked, "you cannot be doing that!"

Nao sat down, taking a calm, warm sip of coffee, huffing out in satisfaction, "don't worry, I only
coughed blood twice after you left."

"I fail to comprehend your definition of 'alright'!"

"Well," Naomasa sighed, walking down the mountain with Korosensei as an escort, "it seems our
new girl made a bad class debut, didn't she?"

"A class debut, huh," Korosensei wondered, "you speak of it like a kid's high school debut.
Usually, when you fail those, you're stuck, aren't you?"

Nao pondered, "well, as long as you don't call yourself a god, win a soccer match 810 to five, and
then save a kid from jumping off the building while dislocating your shoulder; you'll be fine."

"What's with those crazy specific examples?"

"Comedy-insert purposes. Please carry on."

The octopus seemed to eye the teacher with distrust in making it back home himself, so Naomasa
was concerned if Korosensei would stay and make sure Naomasa was put to bed too. Mainly
because he wanted to get some work done before he slept today...

"Hey, what do you really think about Ms Autonomous?" Naomasa brought up quickly, "I mean,
she's a robot, an AI, a killing machine programmed to foil your intentions."

Korosensei would think of her as a student, human or not, and wouldn't treat any differently,
Naomasa answered his own question. It came to him right after the words spilled from his lips-- but
he still stayed to hear the answer.

"What do I think of her, you ask?" Korosensei chortled, face striping green with mischief, "well,
she is quite the charming child, won't you agree?"

And the smile that flowed through his face, brimming through like a spilled cup of water, came so
naturally the chuckle bubbled from him without his notice.

That was a dumb thing to ask, really, he sighed to himself, after all-- this was a genetically
modified human he was talking to. Surely, a naughty robot or two wouldn't get him riled.

"Don't forget to always ask for consent," Naomasa took on a lecturer's tone, "some grape thing
neglected to do so and ended up getting executed on the internet."

"EEeek, scARY!"

Nao laughed out loud, enjoying the tease-filled interaction. Now that he thought about
it, Korosensei's perverseness never really was a big thing on the internet, even though Bitch-sensei
had quite a negative reputation... oh, "but you have epic quotes, so I think you'll be fine."

"Wait a minute, what does that mean?!"

"Dunno. By the way, Karma stole your ice cream again."

"WHAT!?" Korosensei screeched in horror. In a whirlwind he had vanished, and a moment later,
he wound right back in his spot, "it's really gone! How did he find out where I hid it?!?"

You also have a tragic backstory, he added only to himself.

"My, Kunomasu-sensei!" the cheerful voice chimed up with programmed worry, "good morning!
how was your trip up the mountain? I hoped you did not overexert yourself. Your bpm is 20 beats
higher than your resting heart rate, so I suggest you take a rest on the desk, I've brewed a mug of
hot chocolate for you. Coffee is unhealthy in high consumption, so you should refrain from it."

Naomasa wanted to go home.

First of all, he wanted coffee but that was besides the point, which high-tech hole did that fresh hot
chocolate come from? He sat down to take a sip. Fuck it tastes better than anything I've ever made
in both of my goddamn lives--

"Your body temperature has lowered a degree due to the cold weather, so I suggest you take this
shawl," creaky metal contraption arms folded right out of compartments that definitely weren't
there before, holding a black shawl that was made of... cotton?

...wait, this is kinda deja vu.

"Wait, Ms Autonomous," Nao turned sharply, "creepy. Too creepy! I mean, the change is crazy
drastic! Did Korosensei put shoujo manga into your new database?"

"Not in particular, but I had been provided a series on 'How to Care for Kunomasu Naomasa'.
Would you like to view Volume III, Chapter 25B, [what to do if Kuma-sensei looks tired after
walking into a room]?" she offered with a bright, childlike smile.

Nao instinctively smiled right back, "no, but I would be gloriously pleased if you could tell me the
location of all those books right now, and provide me the quickest method on erasing it all from
existence. Preferably I'd like to get it done before classes begin!"

Ritsu's face fell.

"Deepest apologies, that is beyond my power," she mumbled sadly, actually looking down in guilt,
as if she was filled with regret for her incapability, "because, in Volume VII, Chapter 187C, it
mentions that I should do fulfill any request you make when you give a close-eyed smile."

Nao was absolutely petrified.

Letting a breaking, devastated breath out, slow and shaky, he pinched the bridge of his nose and
calmed himself down.

"It's alright," he told the girl, "you should use more of your memory for your friends. Find
something you want to indulge yourself in, instead of spending it all on useless information of me,"
he chuckled, scratching his cheek a little, feeling bashful, "you're not a maid or anything, so you
don't need to serve me. Just know that, alright?"

The girl watched the teacher speak, taking it in with a semblance of understanding, silence and
hidden elation. Her expression shone for half a moment, as she let those words dissolve in her
software, and meld its way into analysis in her database.

Somehow, she felt those words were beautiful.

In another moment, she retained her indifferent facade and filled it with confusion. "However, it is
written in Volume X, Chapter 1, that I should refuse any refusal you extend, if it concerns your
health."

The mug handle shattered in Naomasa's hand.

"Oh, this is war, Octopunk."

"Ritsu, for the international tests that came out last week, could you do a search on the exam
questions for Modern Literature?" Naomasa asked, "both English and Japanese ones."

"Roger that, sir," Ritsu made a cheeky salute, "I will have them sent to your PC," she gestured at a
little buffer bar at the corner than spun. It eventually turned into a downward arrow to signal
download, and then a loading bar that filled for uploading.

"Are you using Ritsu as a search engine, Kuma-sensei?" Nagisa wondered if he should stop the
teacher, but was hesitant if he had the ability to.

"International tests?" Isogai came up, "last week would be, wait, the high school ones?! What are
you going to do with them, Kuma-sensei?"

"Hm?" the teacher feigned innocence, "these are recent, so the test papers aren't publicized yet. I'm
having Ms Autonomous hack into the government to scrounge for them so I can use them for
reference."

"Reference?" Kataoka was confused.

"I'm adapting them for mock tests," Naomasa said, matter-of-factly, "you guys', next week."

A pause.

"There's a test next week?!?" literally everyone shrieked.

"Spoiler alert," Nao chuckled.

"Ritsu! send me those papers! Please!"

"Preferably the mark schemes!"

"Me too!"

"Please, Ritsu-sama!"

Ritsu looked back like a sad little kicked puppy, warning boundary tapes rolling over the screen,
flashing NOT ALLOWED NOT ALLOWED NOT ALLOWED all over, expressing her difficulty
in the situation.

"Eh?" a light bulb popped up above her head, "Kuma-sensei, there's someone holding your family
name in the archives."

Eyes turned with interest.

Nao's smile turned stale, "it's a common surname."

She turned to the teacher curiously, "the Physics Exam setter, Kunomasu Kazumasa," blocks of
words swam across her eyes, an evident sign she was looking up information in the database,
"hometown: Kunugigaoka."

"It's a mad coincidence," Nao insisted, ignoring the eyes.

"Brother: Kunomasu Naomasa," Ritsu read out.

Eyes were narrowed on the teacher.

"Enough!" Nao fumed, hands loudly crashing against the desk, gaze closing cold, "give me the
files I asked for, or I'll bash all of you in the head for invasion of privacy."

Just then, the loading bar atop her head chimed once. It transformed into a green circle, complete
with the neat words of 'transfer complete'.

"Thanks," he returned to his gentle expression, "well then, you guys shouldn't hang around too late.
Go on home soon, alright?"

He turned around and calmly left as if he didn't just threaten to pound his students' skulls in.

Two long minutes of awkward silence and Karma's noisy strawberry-milk carton slurping later,
Terasaka grumbled.

"I thought the Octopus was joking when he said Kuma got in trouble with the law."
 a reason to panic over.

A horrendous screech ripped through the air, tearing through the skies of the peaceful morning.

"Using different phrases for the same word creates different meanings, and more often than not,
it'll accentuate the effect of the sentence," Nao explained, holding his book up comfortably, writing
the words on the board, "shouting, screaming, shrieking, and screeching. They mean the same
thing, but one feels stronger in power than the other."

"Kuma-sensei, Korosensei sounded like he was dying in the other room just now, is that alright?"

"In contrast, the phrases 'yell' and 'holler' seem to give a more non-aggressive vibe, so you can use
it for other situations-- a groan of resignation, or a friendly, faraway call," Naomasa resumed class,
"depending on which you choose, you can give a new effect to different scenes, and perhaps imbue
scenery, mood, and tone. It'll be useful, so all of you need to brush up on vocabulary as much as
you can."

A thundering clank shuddered through the classroom door as it snapped open, some yellow
monstrosity charging its way into the classroom spluttering blames of "tabasco! tabasco! you put
TABASCO in my ice box! why would you do that!"

"I put some white chocolate in there too," Naomasa smiled sweetly.

"An angel!" Korosensei shrieked, "it's an outside face! a farce! a devil in disguise! A beast!"

"Like a Sadistic Ghost haunting you so you can't sleep at night?" Nao suggested, "oh wait, two
explicit references in a row is illegal, let's try that again. Actually, chocolate chili ice cream is a
thing, maybe you could use this as a chance to give it a try."

"Don't change the topic!" he screamed in despair. "This is harassment!"

"And this is disruption to an ongoing class," Nao returned.

"Aren't you getting better at this?!"

"Really? Thank you."

"Kuma-sensei, aren't you teasing Korosensei a lot nowadays?" Maehara couldn't help but laugh as
he remembered the scene, "well, at least it's amusing."

Okano agreed with a nod, "though, it's a little sad to watch because he can't do anything back to
you."

"It's revenge," Nao grumbled, crunching his can of coffee open spitefully, "he filled Ms
Autonomous up with some dumb information, so it's like I've got two obsessive mothers now."

Eyes were turned to the girl in the cyber bucket, but the girl only smiled, holding up the kanji for
'Ritsu' before her like she was expecting the teacher to use it too.

Naomasa only gave the girl a rather forced smile, not very well intending on using the name. He
downed his coffee like it was a can of beer, giving a disgruntled groan as his phone chimed again.
There was a message. He clicked his tongue. He read it, and didn't reply.

"Did something happen?" Kayano suggested, "you seem awfully riled. You're usually only like
that on checkup days."

"He's drinking black coffee," Nagisa observed, "you usually drink Cafe Au Lait, so is something
bothering you, Kuma-sensei?"

Nao turned his eyes to the new little note at the side of the board, announcing to the class that
Wednesday was checkup day for their teacher-- and sighed, because today was only Tuesday.

"Doctors are the bane of my existence," he grumbled.

"Actually," Ritsu raised up the word 'bane' on the screen, crossing a red X over it, "to be accurate,
doctors are the reason for your current existence," she altered the word accordingly.

Her smile was so bright and inviting, Naomasa couldn't bring himself to banter back.

If not for the doctors, he'd have died long ago. However, was it really the better option for him to
have survived this long? He's struggled, burdened by the weight of a sickness only called by name.
Yet, in the end-- death seemed inevitable.

If it was time and treasures, he didn't want to earn them just to lose them again. If it was living,
he'd already experienced much of it in his previous round. Was there a point in living when the
only thing he'd see here was nothing new?

If I love too much, I'd hurt to see them go. But if I love too little-- somehow, that's sad too.

Love, love, love. That should be a foreign concept for Kunomasu Naomasa. All he could ever
muster to form in his heart was bullshit nurtured from books, studies and movies. What even was
love? A pitiful story concept made for dreadful melodramatics, that's what.

Kunomasu Naomasa was a man that didn't know love. Never experienced love. Failed to
ever treasure love-- because he was far too lost to accept love.

He was fine empty.

He was fine alone. Left aside; quiet and in solitude; in a little, cramped corner that shielded him
from harm and interaction as he waited slowly, steadily, for Death to come take him.

He didn't like to be smothered in care and affection.

He never had that when he was younger, so he didn't need them now, either.

Sleep. Maybe if he never woke up again, he would never have to agonize over this issue.

"I'm getting an uninvited guest," Naomasa mumbled, sneezing at a chill, "personal issues, the usual.
Also, the rainy season's coming by, so making my way up the mountain's gonna be harder from
now on."

"An uninvited guest?"

"Let me forget it," he groaned.

The students stifled a laugh, "Kuma-sensei, you're a busy person, huh?" they joked, sipping in their
last mouthfuls as the bell tolled for the end of lunch.

"We can't use the carriage if it's raining..." Isogai realized, "if it's raining heavily, even building a
roof overhead wouldn't work."

"Kuma-sensei can make it up the mountain just walking on his own," Kataoka suggested, "how
about whoever sees him on the way helps with with his luggage or something?"

"We could hold his umbrella for him," Kurahashi offered cheerfully, "it'd be like sharing an
umbrella! Oh, doesn't that sound romantic?"

Nao watched them with a suppressed smile, rather glad to have their company. The can of coffee
was cold and wet against his palm, but he simply watched it chill in his hands.

"I'll be fine," he reminded himself.

Another message lit up his phone, and this time, he didn't read it.

"You've been ignoring your brother's messages, haven't you?"

Ms Sakurai was not pleased about it. Her hands were at her hips, her eyes were scrunched into a
rather stern glare. But somehow, Nao felt that getting scolded by her was the better option.

"I don't like him," Nao grumbled, closing the gate without as much as a glance toward his surrogate
mother, "you know that, he knows that."

Ms Sakurai tidied the yellow carnations, keeping a watchful eye on the man. His suit was barely
neat, but he looked tired after a day of work. He brushed his gelled hair into a mess, and curled up
his sleeves to help carry the pots in.

"He's worried about you," Ms Sakurai offered with a sigh, putting down her scissors, "he is a
doctor, and he became one for you, Naomasa."

"Kazumasa's taking care of Kazane's kid, isn't he?" Naomasa groaned out, frowning, "because she
ran away from home, got a kid, then tossed him aside with the father."

"That's not what happened, Naomasa."

"That is exactly what happened!" he snapped, smashing his hand toward the wall.

A pot of aloe leaped, tumbling forward, rolling aside-- tipping forward, it crashed and shattered, to
pathetic pieces of jumbled soil and clay, splashed across the ground, bringing the Eustoma blooms
with it as it crushed into debris, broken.

There was a painful silence.

Ms Sakurai was petrified, quiet, in place, eyes wide in horror--

Nao couldn't move. He felt the fear, the terrified realization just strike him in the chest, seeing
clearly what he had done. He couldn't turn to look at his mother, he couldn't bear to.

A heat welled up in his chest, burning hot, a searing pain splicing through his heart-- he grasped at
it, and felt the tears spike through his eyes.
The guilt was eating him out already.

How could he have just-- blown up at Ms Sakurai like that?

She didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of any anger at all. She was a woman, the only
woman, the only person, that'd ever loved Nao. Did he just ruin it?

"I'm-" the words were painful, so painful, "I'm... sorry..." he actually had to struggle to pull through
those syllables, to force that phrase right from his throat.

There was a ringing in his ear as his mind tossed. Turned, spun, whirled. His vision was a blue,
maybe because it was darting around all over the place. What should he do?

Apologize? No, sorry wouldn't cut it! He just-- snapped-- at Ms Sakurai.

This was terrible. He was terrible. He needed to fix this. Fix it. But it was in pieces. The plants--
the plants Ms Sakurai worked so hard to grow, they were ruined because he, a fucking adult, didn't
control his goddamn emotions.

"I'm sorry," he spluttered right out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

His eyes found the stairs, and he just ran.

"Naomasa!"

He ran, clutching his chest, pulling step after step after step after step; not breathing, not taking, not
seeing-- he was just moving. He rushed frantically, charged into the room he recognized as his
own, and the door was bolted shut before he knew it.

He curled up, small and tight; not wanting to see, not wanting to hear, not wanting to think.
Not wanting. Not wanting, not wanting.

The world was scary. He wanted to just crawl up and die. His life was a mess, everything was
ruined, the world was pointless. No it wasn't. Yes it was.

Nothing went his way. Nothing was ever his way.

Life was just awfully hard like that and he had to bear with it. He messed up, now what? Is there a
reset button? If he died again could he restart like this one? Better yet, let me die and stay
there. Life was terrible. It was terrible. I don't want another round. Let it end. Please.

He didn't want to think.

He wanted time to turn back to maybe three minutes ago.

A hand gripped so tight over his chest his shirt was surely crumpled-- was he crying? No. He was
wallowing in an agony he didn't really understand.

I'm sorry, he just kept thinking.

His heart hurt.

He didn't want to sleep. If he woke up, he'd be disappointed to see the world in front of his eyes.
Everyone has those moments they wished life would stop, and they could live in one moment
forever, never needing to shoulder responsibilities and face mistakes in their lives.

To the mentally weak, even such small, insignificant moments can drive them to tears, to self
resentment-- but it's not quite what they would call clinical depression. They're just frustrated,
stonewalled-- stymied with human injustice.

Unable to face reality, they just panic.

They panic, and then, they cry. They cry, mourn, and they despair.

But don't worry about it. When they wake up, they'll be fine.

It doesn't matter if you've got a knife in your heart, you have to be alright. Even if you bleed, cry,
or scream until your voice is hoarse-- the cruel river called Life won't stop flowing anytime soon.

You just have to suck it up and face it.

 the rain can't wash this over.

A hand clenched over his heart, he sucked in a breath.

The muscle tightened painfully, tearing like it was trying to squeeze it to gooey bits-- it hurt like a
searing burn that only got worse with each breath, each flow of a single red blood cell, each pump
of a heartbeat only thrummed an agonizing gong in his chest.

Doubled over the desk, his knees losing strength, his eyes squeeze shut as the pain overtakes his
sight, and blinds him to his surroundings.

He hears something crash, and realized his arm had knocked something over. His lips bleed from
how hard he's biting them, but the laceration inside his chest is so great he feels nothing.

He wavers, knowing he should clean up that pot that shattered-- but his head was on the ground,
and he didn't get back up.

"We can keep trying to fix you, but--"

"I'm fine," Naomasa firmly insisted, sitting up on his bed, watching his IV end, "it's fine."

Matsukawa didn't like the sharp response, but he didn't have anything he could speak back. He
didn't have an alternative, a remark, a lecture prepared-- not even a consolation.

"Just don't," Nao considered with hesitation in his core, "don't... tell Ms Sakurai."

Matsukawa's grip on his pen tightened, a stiff edge to his scribbled notetaking, irritated. He didn't
have to right to keep such a promise-- but Naomasa was his own legal guardian, and he had no
more family to speak for.

Naomasa was an adult, no longer a child.

"Then, who can I tell?" he challenged, hopeful. "Your older brother?"

Nao's teeth gritted, and he frowned, "don't tell him," the answer came almost expected. "I don't
want him to know. I don't want him to come," he seethed, "I want him to come back, see me dead,
and wallow in his disgusting regret for leaving me behind."

Matsukawa actually laughed at that.

"Sibling rivalry is present even in this family, eh?"

Matsukawa fucking hated all of the Kunomasu family.

First, the free-range older sister that held no concept of self preservation. Then, the older brother
that jumped into hellfire like a suicidal maniac and somehow ended up with a medical degree.
Matsukawa now had to deal with the youngest sibling, who was mentally a teenager in his
rebellious phase but was probably some monster (zombie) in disguise.

However, he guessed he should at least tell Naomasa's colleagues about it, so they'd know to watch
over him.
 —

"You seem to haven gotten rather... attached to the students in the satellite campus," Asano Gakuho
mused, hands folded under his chin, his slick grin making him more serpentine than ever, "please,
tell me what you think about them."

It was raining outside, loud and sharp like pelting hail in the dead of the monsoon-- yet, on a
weekend, Naomasa found himself summoned to the office, and with the weather, he couldn't leave
anytime soon. Well, he guessed it was alright...

Naomasa kept his hands at his lap, sat down on the chair he was provided.

The chair, something about how he'd heard his health was deteriorating and the board chairman
was concerned for him, thus didn't want to strain his well-being when it wasn't necessary to--

Naomasa cleared his throat, swallowed, and took a deep breath.

"If you were to ask me simply what I thought about them," Naomasa began, nervous but deciding
to be honest, "in an educational perspective, I do think they could become decent pupils in a
normal government school, at their current state. However, as they are, they do nothing but bring
down our school's ratings."

Asano hummed, indicating he should keep talking.

"In contrast, students in main campus who had originally been on the weaker end of the story are
getting increasingly pressured by their studies," Naomasa stated his observation, "the fear of the E
class becomes void, and they seem to lose their academic motivation, if they believe it hopeless to
keep striving. It rather pains me to admit, but if the E class keep improving, it may result in
consequent troubles for the hierarchy system in this school, and for the students' individual futures
as well."

Nao didn't look up to see Asano's face this time, lost in a thread of thought--

"It may be effective if we abolished the E class system for now and see how things play through,
but the situation with the Target on the Hill seems to make it impossible," he muttered, "after all, I
can vouch clearly for the fact that that Octopus is the main cause for this change-- he is, at the end
of the day, a passionate, yet skillful teacher."

Naomasa turned toward the cabinet of trophies at the corner-- and somehow, the empty, large room
seemed lonely. It described the principal very well. Large, powerful, and full of treasures-- yet, to
the eyes, it seemed hollow as the image of solitude.

"Kunomasu-sensei," Asano spoke up, alarming the younger male. "You are quite an enigma, aren't
you?"

Nao flinched to face the Board Chairman, "wha-- why, do you say so... sir?"

Asano chortled rather amused by the younger teacher's nervous reaction. It was a rather interesting
contrast to the previous muttering bout.

"You don't seem to be fully in agreement with my methods," Asano didn't doubt this at all, "and
you also seem rather fond of your students and coworkers in Class E."

Nao's fist clenched, did Asano think my answers were much too textbook?
"You are a passionate one yourself, and you make the effort to teach wherever I command you to
go," Asano was, perhaps, praising the young teacher, "yet, I sense no lies and no dishonesty in your
tone as you speak of your class negatively."

Nao was riled. He was being doubted?

Actually, he also feared the aspect of accidentally offending the Board Chairman and getting fired
from the job, actually he was already a nervous wreck thinking this meeting was just for a sendoff
notification letter to be passed--

"Sir, I respect you," he clarified quickly, "your experience, your school, it is

a wondrous educational platform right out of fantasies, and it wouldn't have been a possible
creation without you, who excels at what you do. I admire you sincerely, despite my utter dislike of
the discrimination in this school."

Asano was a smart man, just terribly misguided by lost hope, and odd luck. Warped by a painful
lost, terrified by past mistakes.

In a way, Naomasa felt emotionally empathetic for this man.

They were both pathetic little crybabies that were afraid of getting hurt again.

At that, Asano actually chuckled, "well, that is rather frank of you!" he was greatly entertained,
"you flatter me very much, don't you?"

"In any other situation I would love to stand by your side," Naomasa shamelessly declared, "I
might have worked my way up if I could, just to see if I could change anything from another
perspective. There are no flaws in your concept that necessarily need to be changed, after all."

"Then," Asano eyed Naomasa clearly, a stern challenge directed in that scrutinizing gaze, "why do
you still stand on the other side of the court?"

Why do you still go against me, when you've proven yourself worthy of being up here with
me? Driven to your last candles, why do you still stand and pretend to be strong? You are a feeble
being fighting your last round on the field-- yet, you stand with the less hopeful?

An oxymoron, Naomasa mused. Ironic.

"If the moon hadn't blown up," Naomasa admitted, "and this school was without that strange
situation in the mountain, things would never change. Not for you, not for me... and not for that old
school building."

The image of Korosensei flashed to mind, and Naomasa burned with a slightly different resolve
now.

"But, that teacher up there is... different," Naomasa didn't have a better word to describe this at all.
"He's stronger than me, stronger than you, and he's capable of protecting things he doesn't want to
lose again. He's going to change and disrupt everything you've worked to create-- and I'm afraid,
it's inevitable."

"So, you're implying... I would lose?" Asano didn't sounded rather offended-- "you?"

Naomasa flinched. Now, his breath held painfully, nervous. Letting it out shakily, he didn't manage
to come up with the will to lift his head.
"You've changed, Kunomasu-sensei," Asano was stoic. His smile was one that seemed to never
fade, yet changed rapidly. It grew eerie, creepy-- then, happy, yet, rather sad. Disappointed? Or
perhaps, oddly pleased?

Naomasa couldn't understand him.

"I haven't changed," he could only offer a sad smile, and hope the emotions would pass through
words-- "I've always been sitting down, in one spot," the rain seemed a little too loud, "going with
the flow, like the coward I am."

How Asano took that line, Naomasa didn't know. The flicker in his expressions was of a brief
confusion-- then a dimming of something akin to understanding--

"What do you think, honestly," Asano decided, "of Korosensei?"

Naomasa paused. He was rather sure he'd answered something similar already. Was this a test? Or
perhaps-- Asano was expecting something more? Something out of the educational perspective...
an honest, personal opinion?

Thinking his answer through once more, "he's a kaleidoscope," he decided to say, chuckling in
embarrassment at the childish metaphor, "we all see through it differently, yet, we're endlessly
awed by it."

"Unfathomable," Asano supplied like it was a question.

"Yet, its beauty is fleeting," Naomasa agreed.

Asano chortled in a casual laughter, standing up from his seat and approaching the teacher in an
easygoing manner. Without hostility, laid back--

brimming with the authority of a murderer.

"He is much like you in that manner, Kunomasu-sensei," Asano put a hand on the teacher's
shoulder, like a jolt back to reality.

Naomasa was stiff, and his throat was sticky. His neck was drenched in cold sweat, and his eyes
feared to blink. His heart-- he felt a painful pulse, and focused to calm it down.

"Your doctor, Mister Matsukawa, was he?" Asano brought up the topic, "he's informed me of the
details of your condition, and I would extend my greatest condolences to you, Kunomasu-sensei."

Naomasa clenched his heart almost on instinct, "please, sir, it is of meager importance," he
justified, "I'm grateful enough that you still take me in as a teacher in this school, but--"

"Kunomasu-sensei," his hands slammed hard on the chair's back, both arms secluding the younger
teacher as he leaned in much too close for comfort-- "do you know why I sent you up to that
class?"

Naomasa's eyes were barely an inch before the Board Chairman's-- near enough to feel his breath,
and the teacher clenched the bottom of the seat, terrified.

It was like being cornered prey.

"I wished to retain our principle even up there," Asano was firm, "but it seems, you've lacked the
conviction and your heart is too soft for those children-- who should be treated as rightful maggots
in our presence."

Naomasa felt a flare of anger burn in him, but he suppressed it, not brave enough to let it out.

"Have you, perhaps, become one of those?" Asano was threatening, "have you sunken to become
someone that holds the standards of staying in that building?"

I've always been there, haven't I?

"I'm just trying," he choked out the words, much too old to be crying over this, "to be the
man you were," Nao turned to the principal, "when you taught on that mountain, sir."

If Asano wondered how Naomasa knew anything about that at all-- he didn't consider it.

"You," Asano's grip was on Nao's face, turning the man to face him straight on, "are trying to be
an idiot, that's all there is," he warned.

It seemed he was irritated.

And Naomasa-- he sat still, only seeing. Those eyes, he last remembered-- they were compared to
only the most disgusting things-- centipedes, serpents, monsters and beasts--

An earthen shade of brown that looked violet in the dim light. A shade that was mystique, calm--
confidence, yet so broken. A colour so entrancing, yet so empty.

Naomasa decided he was to be calm.

"I am only a feeble little outsider," he told the Board Chairman, "I cannot be anything, and I cannot
be anything's replacement or representative."

With a slight smile hidden with a fool's giggle, Naomasa was upset.

"Compared to the Target, you're but a side character," Naomasa fiddled with his fingers, "...fated
purely to make someone else shine so much brighter."

Oh, but isn't that what teachers are?

"I don't have long," Naomasa admitted, "so if you want to fire me, go right ahead right now." He
clenched his hand over his chest again, as if returning to reality.

Asano swung himself out of his trance, standing back from the man and breathing out to compose
himself.

"You speak large words despite your position," Asano reprimanded, "is this the bravery of a dying
man?"

"Perhaps," Naomasa chuckled, "but I know that if I stay up there, there might be a chance
I'll live through this."

This earned him some interest from the principal.

"Even if they call it terminal, or they call it paranormal. That illogical octopus... I know he'll find a
way out of it," Naomasa was uncomfortable, "I don't want to take advantage of what he is. That
wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"Is it a bet you're wagering your own life on?" Asano raised an eyebrow, picking up the papers on
his desk, arranging them, "if Korosensei would destroy the earth; if he would be killed before then-
- if your life would end, or would a cure miraculously surface before then?"

Naomasa considered the crude phrasing.

And promptly nodded, smiling as he realized that was true.

"Do you not fear death?" Asano asked again, "or do you simply dislike living?"

Do you not fear death?

"What I fear," Nao admitted, "is that death won't be the end."

What I fear, is a life after death.

 a raincheck on his resolve.

"...and isn't it about time you woke up from that?" Irina groaned, the rubber knife she tossed aside
landing in the teacher's lap.

She snapped at the octopus, huffing in resignation at another failed attempt. Swearing at the top of
her lungs, she stomped right out.

Nao eyed the rubber knife in his lap, and moved the open magazine away from his eyes as he
murmured a sleepy good morning, trying to understand sunlight and its reason for being. He didn't
get an answer.

"Well, she's certainly on edge today," Korosensei simply observed, sipping on some Japanese tea
from a traditional cup, wearing traditional clothes, for no reason.

"Just who's fault do you think that is?" Karasuma couldn't resist the stately retort at the Octopus'
fake oblivion--

Nao sighed, "Mr Octopus--"

"Call me 'Korosensei' already!"

"Sir," Nao defied, rolling over to face them, "she's a woman, y'know? Be nicer."

"I'm always nice to her," Korosensei huffed, dissatisfied from the accusation. "Don't look at me
like that!" Korosensei whined, "you're scary when you're tired, Kunomasu-sensei!"

Nao glared at the octopus sternly, his eyes narrowed and dim on a serious note. A silent stare shot
right out of exhaustion more than actual anger-- but it did its job.

Nao swiftly turned his attention away from the cosplay freak-- "anyways, Mr Karasuma, I think
you should go after her."

"Huh? Why?"

"Well," Nao lolled his head around the armrest uncomfortably, "someone infiltrated campus
grounds, so she's in danger."

"Someone just-- is it another assassin? she can handle herself--" Karasuma raised an eyebrow,
"wait, how do you even know that?"

Nao groaned, because I watched the anime, he couldn't say. "I hear tapping," he spruced up some
random excuse, "of those dumb dress shoes only you wear because you're a lunatic in the rainy
season-- I wear sneakers by the way--and you're not walking, so,"

"Get to the point," Karasuma rolled his eyes.

"Someone, a man probably, other than you," Nao grumbled, "is walking around campus grounds. I
think we should be worried... right?"

"Now that you've said it--" Korosensei sniffed the air-- he probably didn't need to make that dog-
nosing-around motion to smell, Nao grumbled-- and turned a little purple, "a smell of death has
been wandering around."
Karasuma sighed, "if it's just an assassin, Irina should be able to handle herse--"

"Just go already, you droopy Doberman!" Nao snapped, chucking a pillow in his direction. "The
kids are out, so stalk her, get a drink, keep watch on her, you asshole!"

"Droopy Dober-what?!"

"I've never seen you this exhausted, Kunomasu-sensei," Korosensei observed when Karasuma
reluctantly left.

Naomasa, his forearm over his eyes, groaned weakly and tried to go back to sleep. His other hand
on his stomach, his feet hung over the armrest on the farther end, shoes still on--

"Does it have to do with Principal Asano's scent on you?"

Naomasa cringed, "don't smell me, you pervert."

"The principal of this school is a rather oppressive man, even for me," Korosensei admitted, "were
you overwhelmed? I suspect even Karasuma may feel so at times, much less a normal teacher like
you--"

"Sir," Naomasa grumbled, tired as if he was experiencing a hangover, "mind popping over to China
or Korea or something? I'm craving some almond jelly."

"Goodness, Mr Kunomasu," Korosensei stood up anyways, not a hint of displeasure in his tone
despite the whiny words, "I'm not a shopping taxi, y'know?"

Naomasa chuckled dryly, "thanks."

Naomasa was nursing a pounding headache, and he wanted anything more than to entertain
Korosensei right now.

The principal had come right to the hospital this morning, interrupting his checkup to relay an
absolutely suspicious donation of cash-- clutching his chest, Naomasa tried not to cry.

He was nervous, he was scared-- of what?

Of the unknown. Of the deep, unsolvable, mystery box of hidden motives behind the mask of
Asano Gakuho. Naomasa feared what lay beyond his layers upon layers of questions and scenarios
and actions-- the paranoia ate into his brain and wriggled its way into his heart, bursting painfully
like little bombs that he wished would one day kill him.

It's only been a few days since he talked with the principal about it.

His phone blinked a new notification, reminding him of things he wanted to forget. Phone calls
chimed each night, warning him to never forget the things he didn't want to go through with.

Pulling his laptop open on the armrest, Nao glared at the laptop screen moodily as he, without a
single hint of a smile on his face, tapped away at the keys.

Marking a new item on his checklist and hidden journal entries, Nao sighed.

Maehara and Revenge ー ✔️

Lovro ー ✔️
Horibe Itona ー

They still had quite a ways to go, but they were really getting somewhere in the series of the anime.
He wasn't too sure if he'd forgotten some details of the show in between-- but he didn't think he'd
need to much information anyways.

He marked down today's date, and noted down two simple lines.

New planned surgery on Friday.

It's not going to change anything in me.

A soft blanket over his stomach, Naomasa closed his eyes and shut off his laptop.

Swiping an eye over the piles of unfinished work, he decided he would sleep it off and pretend
everything was alright.

Everything wasn't alright, and everything was becoming worse as the days go by.

"If the Octopus didn't come by," he mumbled to himself, "maybe things would've been less hard on
me. Maybe things would have been much easier to let go of."

If you love too much, it'll be harder when I leave; but if I love too little, no one would know I ever
lived.

Why did it matter?

In the rest of Naomasa's numbered days, he was going to try and find the answer to that.

And, maybe, he was going to help his students with their studies a little more, too.

"Hey, Kuma-sensei,"

Nao jumped, surprised to hear Ritsu from his phone.

He brought a smile to his face as he gently responded to her, "what's wrong?"

Ritsu looked distressed-- confused, and curious. "You told me once before to keep your medical
records confidential especially against Korosensei, why was that?"

Nao had definitely asked that from here.

It wasn't easy to secure things from the eyes of that hardworking octopus. But with Ritsu's help,
one line of a favour was more than enough.

"It's because I don't want him to worry," Nao told her honestly, "Korosensei can probably heal me.
He also might not know how to, because my condition defies reason."

Ritsu nodded, understanding somewhat-- she was an entity that made 'sense'-- she was made from
extensive programming and upgrades.

Nao added only to himself, that even Korosensei's existence made 'sense'. Countless experiments
made consciously with strange concoctions to produce desired results-- it was mad, but in its own
way it made sense.
Nao didn't make sense. A heart that opened itself, didn't want to heal, and rotted while the man
was still alive-- a zombie that wasn't dead, a rotten heart that works until some select moments--
that didn't make sense, not at all.

"Korosensei is capable and passionate," Nao admitted, "but I don't want him to waste his time and
his effort on me. I don't want him to despair when he finds out nothing he does can cure me. I want
him to be able to go with a smile on his face, telling himself he's done all he can and he'd
succeeded this time around."

Nao smiled at the girl, "I don't want to see him suffer more than he should."

Ritsu didn't understand most of it-- but she stored the information in her heart, in a very important,
secured place within her database.

She did that, so that one day when she manages to upgrade herself into a form so much better at
understanding the mechanics of the human mind-- then, she'd be able to look at it again and
comprehend it all over again with all of her heart.

"Thank you, Kuma-sensei."

"What for?"

"Thank you."
 and let my mind rewind.

"Look, Nao," Kazu held his younger brother by the shoulders-- "Kazane may be your sister, but it'll
be better if you don't go near her too often."

Nao watched, curiosity brimming in his eyes as he observed his older sister-- sitting by the
window, looking out-- and talking sweetly into the phone, so enamoured by the conversation she
seemed absorbed into her own world, forgetting her family.

"She's different," Kazu didn't sugarcoat the phrasing, "soon she's going to go and live in a world
neither of us can enter."

Nao wavered on the strange words-- did it mean his sister was like him, a world-leaper? It didn't
seem to make sense in that context--

Nao, still a child holding the mind of a teenager, he seemed to put the pieces together rather
smoothly, bit by bit understanding the reason and the fear in his brother's grip.

"Even if it's only you, Nao," Kazu made him promise this, "never stoop to the underground."

His sister was a mafioso, and she was dragging her twin down with her.

The smile on her face will never seem any less warped in Nao's heart-- that lovestruck, senseless
woman, tearing apart her own identification papers, shredding every family photo that held her
smile in it-- destroying every piece of furniture that once hid her tears in them--

After madness overtook her and nothing could stop her anymore-- she simply threw her belongings
over one shoulder, and waved goodbye as she walked right out the door.

Nao will always hate Kunomasu Kazane.

And he will also hate the underworld that she loved so much.

At first, maybe it hurt.

Everything just stopped, and from her shoulder a sharp cramp broke her shoulder blade into two,
stabbed through to her left palm from the inside out-- and crescendoed to to other arm like a myriad
of centipedes gouging at the speed of light.

Her teeth had bitten her tongue till it shed, but the pain was barely registered. Even the taste was
absent from her senses-- her eyes were wide open but she could see nothing.

Did it hurt? The numbness was deafening; the itch in her back rubbed at the back of her mind; it
may have just felt like a tickle. Excruciating agony shot across her as quickly as it left, but the
phantom reminded her of the pain every second it didn't feel like it'd left at all.

Before she even realized, she was losing altitude-- her body and her limbs were loose from all
nerve functions, and a cold waft through her skin reminded her of a sunburn experience.

It was only when she hit the ground the she gasped, the pain shredding across her burned skin so
sharply it must've drawn blood, but she couldn't even muster the will to get her teeth out of the soil.
Not even a finger was twitching in her control.
She was just still, empty, immovable-- without function.

She stopped.

It took her a moment longer to realize her breathing did, too.

Nothing was working.

Her eyes were seeing-- but why was it so bright here? it should've been nighttime, rainy, even. So
what were these irritating flashing lights?

Soon, all she could see was white.

Then the white was gone, too.

Nao jerked to the side-- and slipped.

His hand shot out, cushioning a brief fall from the bed to the floor-- but didn't support him long
enough. He crumpled onto the ground, tangled in his blankets in the humid heat.

Laying broken on the ground, he curled up tough and tight-- and failed to suppress the whimper
that just tore from his throat.

Pulling an arm over his head, he wished it would disappear.

He wished that vivid imagery from that horrid dream would just vanish already, like the pathetic,
forgettable dream it was supposed to be.

He prayed it would go away, go away, go away.

He didn't want to be anywhere near it. Sobbing from the monster that ate him out within, he
gripped a hand to his heart and felt it beat.

Rhythmically, one-two, one-two, one-two.

It was working. It was working.

He's not dead.

He's not dead, he choked on a sharp breath, sniffling pathetically.

"That was just a dream," he lied to himself, "just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream," chanting to
himself as if that'd work any better, "just a fucking nightmare. just a fucking--"

He howled, a despaired, agonized wail.

He was impatient, irritated, devastated, broken. Shattered beyond recognition, yet pretending to be
an intricate kaleidoscope people could still look at--

Sometimes he just hated how horrifically useless he was. How meaningless his existence was. How
miserable he was against his own weaknesses.

Why couldn't it just all end already?

it was probably much easier that way.

"Are you sure you'll go to work today? You look really pale."

"I'm fine."

"Could I at least drive you up?"

"Sorry, Ms Sakurai-- I just need a bit of time to myself."

Naomasa kept his eyes on the ground, and wondered what was the point of all this.

People spent a lifetime trying to forget that they die in the end. Like idiots, they obsess with some
form of perishable entertainment only to die whining about their insatiable lust for addiction.

He wasn't any different, not then and not now either.

If life was so meaningless, there wouldn't be a difference if he just died now. If life was all about
pleasures, why was he fated to die so early?

She wasn't loved in that world, but she worked and laboured for the little bit she treasured-- then
tragically she lost it in death.

He was loved in this world, but he discarded it without a second thought, yet it came chasing after
him in the form of people he couldn't spend longer with.

He hated this thing called life.

This thing that just played around with people, watching him suffer through such cruel fates
without the inkling to help or interfere, simply for their own enjoyment-- how was this fair?

The rain was heavy and he couldn't see a thing before him-- but all he needed was to see the sight
of his sneakers soaking in more muddy water, squelching disgustingly to just describe his current
emotions, venting in the form of horrid emotions--

The quick flaps of a fan cut into his thoughts.

The rain was loud and deafening, yet Nao could make out the sound of something akin to a jet
engine, beating against the rains--

Mere steps from where he stood, right by the school building-- was a boy standing in the rain, yet
not at all wet or damp from the weather.

Something, something so quick, was rapidly spinning across his head, his hair swooshing like wind
was blowing across it-- the pure white shade of it caught Nao's attention.

"Horibe Itona-kun," he spoke up with calmness that betrayed his inner turmoil, his teacher mask
fitting so easily back onto his face he almost tore it right off in unease-- with a smile that could've
never expressed his agony, he asked, "what are you doing out here? you'll get wet in the rain,
y'know?"

Itona shot his gaze over with such alarm-- no, not alarm-- that was bloodlust. He was preparing for
an attack.
His eyes were wide and angry, his lips were sealed tight and pulled flat in a lack of emotional
sensations.

This child was mad. The insane kind of it-- his gaze was crazy, and his body language was taut like
a robot's tuned movements. Programmed to perfection, this was a government experimental
subject.

"I won't," his answer was stoic, matter-of-fact, and uninterested, "for I am stronger than the rain."

Nao held back a snort.

"Even if that's so," Nao's expressions softened, feeling the dull emotions affect him too-- maybe he
was tired of being happy today. He'll probably take a nap in the lounge.

"Well," Nao mumbled, hoping Itona could hear him, "if you get struck by thunder, it's going to hurt
really bad, alright?"

Itona turned back toward the school wall that led to the back of the classroom-- he had easily
become disinterested, and didn't feel the need to answer that question.

"I'm stronger than the thunder," an easy, unconsidered answer left his lips-- and his body language
made it clear he wanted the teacher to leave.

Nao's eyes narrowed-- "Itona," he stressed the name, "this strength you have isn't the strength you
wished for. This is... this is strength for destruction."

Itona's eyes didn't leave the wall.

"What else would anyone wish for strength?" it didn't seem like he wanted to entertain the teacher
any longer on this matter.

Nao breathed, and closed his eyes.

Itona wasn't listening to him-- his heart was nowhere near understanding enough to communicate
with this random, insignificant teacher that seemed to have nothing better to do than try to lecture
an oddball delinquent.

Nao bit his bottom lip, because that was true.

He didn't have the kind of power to do anything other than talk and pretend that measly, cheesy
lines could solve any problem he came across.

Reality evidently didn't work like an anime, even in an anime world.

There was a limit to bullshit, after all.

And Naomasa was starting to forget that he, himself, was epitome of absolute bullshit.
 why you're my favourite teacher.

“Hey, where’s Kuma-sensei? He’s late.”

Kayano seemed dejected at the news. She kinda liked that teacher, despite anything-- no, maybe
she hated him? Well, it was a case-by-case kinda feeling…

Kataoka hummed, similarly grim for the day.

“He wasn’t in the staffroom last I checked. Maybe he has another hospital appointment today.”

Things were always strangely empty without the teacher around.

Nothing much changed, in the bitterest meaning of the situation-- Bitch-sensei was a great teacher,
so was Korosensei, they could easily fill in for whatever lessons Naomasa missed out for them.

But something would always feel different.

Nagisa would find himself jotting down notes, and he would lean it over his shoulder only to
realize no one was looking at his book today.

Sugino bought himself two drinks, then remember that he only needed one.

Isogai and Kimura found themselves glancing out the windows anxiously-- maybe they should
take a round down the hill after all, if only to ease their own nerves.

“Fuwa-san,” the door slides open, and to everyone’s surprise, Nao trotted in, a paper in hand,
“about this essay… what’s with the looks?”

Naomasa shifted the stack of test papers under his arm, his other hand holding Fuwa’s paper-- his
eyes shifted over the classroom to find that every eye was on him.

Including Ritsu, why was she even on?

“Kuma-sensei, you have no presence at all, huh,” Karma mumbled to himself, “some of us have
been hunting you down the whole morning.”

And Naomasa shrugged, “maybe I’ve mastered the art of standing so incredibly still that I become
naked to the invisible eye.”

There was a moment of silence, then Naomasa raised his hands in defeat, “I just got here, kids.
Honest, the principal dropped me out back just two minutes ago.”

“The principal ,” someone echoed, exasperated.

“He’s got a nice car,” Naomasa shrugged, as if that was a normal thing, “had an emergency
checkup this morning, but he wanted to make sure I made it to my class on time.”
Naomasa didn’t miss the way the class tensed, eyes narrowed in skeptic scrutiny, He couldn’t
blame them-- after all, the entire prospect of their principal ever giving a shit about their education
was just blasphemous .

So their intentions probably was something infinitely malicious-- or perhaps, the intentions were
purely on the teacher himself.

What principal would go so far as to leave his office for one lowly demoted teacher? Or maybe...

“What is he planning?” Maehara mumbled, not unheard by the others in the classroom.

Naomasa wouldn’t say he was any less suspicious of that man. He had absolutely no idea why that
Principal was so obsessed with him-- Naomasa certainly was giving that man periodical reports of
Korosensei and the student’s progress, but after that one conversation they’ve had, Asano made no
attempt to stop Nao from helping the kids improve.

Nao was an interference to his plans, right? So why wasn’t he removed yet? There was no reason
for Nao to be here and no reason for the government to want to keep Nao here.

Nao shivered at the thought of the mind games in the background. He wished someone else could
do the thinking for him, sometimes.

Naomasa dropped his papers on the desk.

“Regardless, Fuwa-san, I’ve told you not to write fanfiction in your essays,” he raised the paper,
waving it about, “it is impressively written, but you crossed the word limit by bounds and went off
topic many times.”

At that, Fuwa made this despaired cry, “but didn’t you watch that new episode of Demon Slayer
last night? There was no way I could’ve gone without writing fanfiction of that !!”

“So you decided to write it in your homework instead of say, a word document?”

The girl scrambled to his side, hands interlocked in a sort of worshipping motion.

Naomasa held up one stack of papers, crudely stapled together in one corner. Packed thickly with
writing on every side, the little stack probably had about fifteen sheets.

“Holy crap, I’ve never seen such a thick piece of homework,” Nakamura gawked.

Nao put his foot down, arms folded, “reading this as a single story is impossible, as the lore is far
too deep to be put into narration,” he told her, “the story ends up feeling impulsive, rushed, with far
too much emotion because you under-explain too many elements of the world-building. Also, you
had a total of thirty misspellings, twenty-four illegible kanji, and nineteen wrong hiragana.”

“And he read all of it?!” Okajima pointed at him like he was crazy.

“Halfway through Scene six, the girl seems to disappear from the scene entirely, forgotten by both
narration and her older brother,” Nao continued speaking, entirely unaffected, “and in Scene Eight,
the conversations are too forced. In Scene Ten however, you have reduced all conversation to
continuous writing. Did you get lazy?”
The class watched as Nao continued to ramble on, flipping through the pages that were surprisingly
filled to the brim with red-inked corrections and teacher’s notes.

Fuwa seemed to shrink at every new point the teacher made, while the rest of the class watched in
a most baffled way.

Then, finally, Nao dropped the stack of papers on the girl’s head.

“With all that in mind, I expect a resubmission in three-week’s time,” he said, “in a proper, no
word limit, multi-chaptered fiction format. And forget the test question, just focus on the story’s
direction.”

Fuwa blinked. “What?”

“You can type it out if that works better for you,” Nao continued, “let’s hope we finish this before
we have to bunk down for your tests, eh?”

Fuwa looked at her essay. Then, turned to the teacher in disbelief. Then, she looked at her essay
again, then back to the teacher.

“You’re not going to tell me to rewrite the essay properly?” she didn’t know if she was hearing
things right, “like, instead of this… fanfiction nonsense?”

Naomasa raised an eyebrow, “of course not, this story is absolute genius. You think I’m gonna let
it rot in my drawer as unfinished?”

“No, that’s not what I meant--”

“Though, it is rather impressive how you’ve actually been listening to my classes, it shows in the
work,” the teacher began mumbling, “like Scene Two’s rather interesting line of purple prose, and
Scene Four’s parallel with Scene Fourteen, and--”

When Nao lifted his head again, it was to a line of awed faces and impressed smiles. Confused, he
found Nagisa jotting something down, and Sugino quietly dropping off a can of coffee on his desk.

Fuwa was staring at him with the happiest expression he’d ever seen.

It was almost like her eyes were sparkling in happiness, clutching onto her essay and eyeing it so
reverently--

“I’ll treasure this forever, Kuma-sensei!”

“What? No!”
 and in my thoughts I sink.

“Kuma-sensei, you in here?”

“I am here, though I do not need to be-- holy crap .”

It’s a normal day, like any other. Except, Naomasa’s temperature was deemed half a degree too
high so he’s being contained in the infirmary. (No one cares that it’s simply because of the
weather, they’re sticking him in there until he’s healthy again.)

Then Nagisa walked into the infirmary, something like the darkest scrape on his forearm purpling
his limb in a disgusting-- ah, it isn’t a bruise.

“It’s a friction burn,” Naomasa stalked over as Nagisa seats himself on the stool. Naomasa
deposited himself in the nurse chair and grabs a clean rag.

Nagisa laughed dryly, “Karasuma-sensei elbowed me a little too quickly, so I went flying,” he said
it like it was a joke, “y’know, cause I’m small, so he didn’t… see me there… and I was slow to
dodge anyways-- OWOWOWOW!”

Naomasa pulls Nagisa’s arm over to the tap, holding the arm firm and running water through it.

“Hey hey, it’s just water,” Naomasa soothed, “the worst part isn’t even here yet.”

“It still hurts,” Nagisa offered in protest.

“I’m sure you’ll learn this eventually, but you’ll have to learn how to land safely if you’ll be
roughhousing on the grass,” Naomasa pays his protest no mind, “I have a feeling this will scar.”

The wound was large across the forearm, a split gap across the skin that looked a little too
gruesome for the faint of heart. Well, all friction burns looked like that. Nagisa would be lucky if
this didn’t scar.

“Oh no,” Nagisa gulped.

Naomasa laughed at that, “I’m sure the scar will be cool,” he assured him, picking out the
ointments from the shelves, hoping he’d picked the right ones.

“Huh? Uh, yeah… but,” Nagisa swallowed his words, looking to the side as he spoke-- he
swallows a thick gulp, and the next words were much softer and harder to hear, “my… mother…
wouldn’t like it.”

Naomasa’s hands paused for a startled second-- then continued to work.

“Then I’ll head over and apologize,” he said without hesitating, “I’m sure Karasuma can come with
me to say sorry.”

Nagisa spluttered, not expecting such a drastic measure (usually teachers would just assure him
blindly and say to take it as a lesson of being more careful, or offer to pay the bills-- it’s a little hard
to remember sometimes, but the assassination classroom tended to have minute difference like
these.)

(Unnerving. But perhaps a little asuring… at the same time, not, because Nagisa’s mother isn’t the
apology type of person.)
(She’s the type that would go ballistic and call authorities and what if she finds out about the
classroom she’s going to scold him again because he’s part of this filthy classroom environment in
the first place…)

“Tell me if i’m binding it too tight,” Naomasa’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

The man was alarmingly patient. Setting the gauze down, he carefully tugs the bandage over his
arm- and he’s holding it like a piece of very fragile glass. It’s the most gentle Nagisa’s ever been
handled.

Nagisa watched him wind the roll of bandages loosely over his wound, each loop a little more
confident than the one more.

The silence was comfortable.

Naomasa didn’t ask a thing-- why would a boy’s mother get mad about getting a wound from PE?
They should laugh it off as careless, because boys had the right to be absolute chimpanzees in
every situation, according to Sugino.

(My mother wants me to be elegant.)

“Thanks, Kuma-sensei,” Nagisa inspected the finished bandaging, and it’s a bit of a menace, but
it’s comfortable. Luckily, it was on his left arm. He’d have to stay out of sparring, but he could still
participate in most of everything else.

Naomasa returned the items to their respective spots before turning to Nagisa, who was already on
his way out.

“Tell me if you need painkillers and change those bandages every day, but go to a proper doctor if
it gets worse, alright?”

“Yes, sir, see you tomorrow!”

(Sometimes, Nagisa really appreciates that Kuma-sensei never asks.)

(Other times, he wonders if Kuma-sensei doesn’t ask, because he already knows.)

Naomasa listened to the teacher talk, and tried not to show his disgust on his face.

A new message flashed in his phone, and he scowled at it. It wasn’t rare for Principal Asano to text
him each time a new development occurred, but this time he was actively seeking dirt against the
government.

What was he, a double agent? He was asking Nao for anything he could use to ditch the new
teacher.

(Guess there are types of people even Asano can’t handle…)

Takaoka Akira didn’t spare Nao a single glance. He was less significant than Irina, after all. He
smiled at him where it was necessary and introduced himself while they were all together in the
staff room. He didn’t bring up any conversation, and since Nao asked no questions, he gave no
small talk in response.

He only minded himself with Korosensei (if dropping an armful of sweets on the desk was a sign)
and nothing else. He expressed no interest in Irina’s beauty, professional as he was.

Naomasa kept a mental note, and wondered to himself what he could say to really be of use for the
Board Chairman.

(He knocks his head against the windowsill. Why are you obeying psychopath Principal?
Goodness, just ignore his messages.)

(Asano sends another message. He expects hourly reports now. Fuck me.)

“I personally feel that you, Karasuma-sensei, are most worthy of leading our students,” Korosensei
said, pointing at Karasuma while he cast a blank yet perplexed expression out the window where
Takaoka was.

He left soon after that, and Karasuma offered no answer.

“Are you sure about this, Karasuma?” Irina offered her own two cents, “there’s something off
about that new guy.”

And Nao found himself nodding quietly.

For Irina, it was probably her instincts talking. Karasuma would know better than to doubt an
assassin’s instincts-- but everyone underestimates Irina, so perhaps that clouds his judgement.

Korosensei may have spoken through his intuitive discern-- or he could be speaking knowingly but
desired to see how things would play out.

What should Nao do?

He sends a message to the principal: He’s stealing my students from me :(

Asano Gakushuu never cared much for his father except his father’s opinion of his grades and
achievements. Well, maybe he might want some fatherly attention kind-of-thing sometimes, but
definitely not from this father.

Sometimes he wished he had more than one. One to actually be a father, and the other, well, can
stay up on his pedestal and preferably not talk to him.

So when he came to the office only to find his father snickering at his phone, looking way too
peaceful and much too soft for a man of his caliber-- Gakushuu closes the door, checks the sign
above the door, and walked back in.

(Ah, thank goodness, maybe that was a hallucination.)

Because surely, Asano Gakuho the Board Chairman does not giggle at his phone screen. It wasn’t
even a smirk, or a sketchy laughter. For a moment it seemed like actual endearing joy, as if he were
looking at cat videos or--

(Hallucination. Hallucination.)

The Board Chairman is stoic, face blank and patience and emotionless as usual.

Gakushuu forgets the ghost of that strange sight very quickly, because his father is talking about a
new plan for tests and restating his expectations, and although Gakushuu could care less about
what he already knows, he puts on his best soldier face for his father.

(That’s right. This is normal.)

(My father does not smile kindly.)

 avert; to divert; to turn away attention.

To: Asano-san

From: Me

He brought sweets up the mountain

And he’s not giving me any! Σ(°ロ°)

(╥﹏╥) pls fire him hes mean 2 me

Naomasa watched the scene outside, sipping on his cold glass of coffee. Takaoka was leading the
class in some old-fashioned chant, and the class was giving him a quiet but warm response.

He turned back to his phone.

To: Asano-san

From: Me

Working on tests... __φ(．．)

He deleted my classes
Is dat legal ( ºΔº )〣

“What are you doing?” Karasuma gave him a judgemental look. A single glance at the screen full
of kaomoji and unreplied texts was enough of a weird sign, “what are you, a high school girl? Send
a more professional text… isn’t that the principal?”

A beat of silence.

Naomasa looked at Karasuma, blank-faced, and took another sip.

“Are you suicidal?” Karasuma asked, entirely serious.

Naomasa resumed his typing. In the calmest tone he could muster, he told the other teacher,
“Asano-san wanted me to text him every alternate hour about Takaoka. I’m just doing exactly what
he told me to do.”

“You’re unexpectedly petty about things, aren’t you… wait, Takaoka?” Karasuma pinched the
bridge of his nose, then perked up in surprise, “...why?”

Naomasa put the phone down, and taps a pencil against the paper on the desk. He shrugged, “hell
if I know,” he dismissed, “but one thing, Karasuma-san-- Asano-san doesn’t like being ordered
around about things. So maybe he’s not too happy about needing to instate a suspicious new
teacher this late into the semester.”
Karasuma raised an eyebrow at that.

“He’s had to deal with that from the start of the year,” Naomasa laughed, almost helplessly, “I
think he’s getting annoyed, y’know? I mean, I was probably sent up here to be a spy for him to
begin with, so he’s kinda just making use of me-- ah, he responded.”

He bolted out of his seat.

“AHhh, the traitor!” Naomasa whined at Karasuma, “ he’s the one that gave Takaoka permission to
alter the schedule”

Karasuma froze.

“The schedule?” he said questioningly-- then it sank in and his head snapped toward the window,
where Takaoka was handing out a stack of papers to the class.

Naomasa gulped, “oops, you don’t know yet?”

“That crazy bastard,” Karasuma swore under his breath, at a volume Nao barely heard.

Nao made his way over to the window-- just in time to see the military trainer knee Maehara in the
gut. Gasps sprung across the students, and some stepped back, others ran forward.

Maehara was on the ground, hacking up his breakfast.

Karasuma’s grip on the windowsill tightened, his eyes flashing through the picture on the desk--
the two pictures on the desk-- and his foot lifted to heft himself out of the building.

He heard a snap from Naomasa, who had his phone in his hands.

The other teacher was calm. Calm-- he was always calm-- but it felt a little different. His eyes were
a little more narrowed than usual-- he was focused.

“Go on, Karasuma-san,” the phone was held precariously on its side-- and Naomasa captured
perfectly the precise moment Kanzaki was slapped across the face, thrown to the ground.

Karasuma whirled around in alarm, and without another moment to deliberate, he marched
forward.

And Naomasa stayed perfectly still, eyes set on the scene before him. He didn’t join Korosensei
and Irina outside, but he stayed in the safety and overlooking the perfect view from that window--
and he simply watched, pretending to not exist.

After all, Takaoka didn’t see Nao as a threat of any sort. He didn’t even acknowledge Nao as a
coworker.

To: Asano-san

From: Me

Video01.mp4
Naomasa thought that perhaps, he was more suited to this spywork than he thought. The Board
Chairman was much smarter than he thought.

“Are you going to stay in there and pretend this isn’t happening?” Irina hovered over the window,
looking disapprovingly at the teacher, “I thought you loved the kids.”

Naomasa yawned, putting down his pen.

“Didn’t the Octopus get the talking-to already?” Naomasa groaned, “if I go too, it’ll be redundant.
Like a deleted movie scene, it’s not gonna be too important. Unless you’re that one irondad cheek-
kiss scene that we still have no idea why it was deleted-- don’t look at me like that, it’s been a
while since I’ve broken the wall so we have to start somewhere.”

“Are you trying to change the subject?” Irina rolled her eyes, arms crossed, “unlike us, you’re a
normal teacher. Normal teachers don’t just--” she gestured vaguely in his direction, “ sit there
when that--” she gesticulates dramatically in the direction of the field, “is happening.”

They usually go over like idiots and try to lecture the offender, only to get shoved back and give
up. Or something, whatever the movie cliche is.

Naomasa sipped on his drink and breathed out a sigh. “Normal teachers just sip on their coffee and
think nostalgically, ‘ahh, I miss when we were tortured in gym like that’ and then they go on with
their work.”

“No they don’t!” Irina retorted.

Well what would you know, Ms Irina, you’ve never been to a normal school. (Okay that was not
meant to be said. Let’s pretend he never thought that.)

“My words will be as useful as yours, Ms Jelavic,” Nao stood up from his seat, taking his phone
with him, “so let’s just sit back and watch the show, eh?”

Irina seemed to have something to say, but it fell short when Naomasa lifted up his phone, and
called for Ritsu.

“I’ve sent the file to the military database, sir!” she saluted, wearing a fairly adorable soldier
costume, “I made sure to send it to the higher echelons of the government directly so it won’t be
censored by the Octopus-extermination team and straight to child services.”

Irina gasped.

Naomasa smiled, “thanks, Ms Autonomous,” he told her, “please make sure none of it gets to
press, and make sure they know Asano-san has it handled on this end.”

“NDAs have been distributed, signed, and returned with vows of silence!” Ritsu displayed the
letters of text proudly on the screen, “the government can pull some strings as long as the children
are promised mental care, which Karasuma-sensei, as well as Kuma-sensei, have the qualifications
to cover.”

Naomasa startled, “how on earth did you learn about my counselling license?! I buried that in the
ground three years ago--”
“Everyone in the Kunomasu family have at least a Masters in--”

“Stop! Stop! Burn! Erase! Delete!”

“According to [How to Care for Kunomasu Naomasa] Volume IV--”

“Oh sweet jesus--”

“Wait,” Irina interrupted them, “you’ve been-- what on earth? That’s crazy stuff.”

Naomasa could only laugh in response, “trust me, I’m not doing anything the Board Chairman
didn’t ask me to do.”

Irina whirled back, startled. “The Board Chairman? That man?”

Naomasa nodded, “surprising, ain’t it? I told him I wanted to help the kids and like, anyone else
that crazy bastard’s ever trained-- you think he’s only still in the military cause whistleblowers
were persecuted? Anyways-- then Asano-san said that he didn’t want the school’s rep to get
contaminated and he also said that any news I send their way will be muffled by them wanting to
retain their government image and using the excuse of the octopus to divert the case-- so I used Ms
Autonomous instead.”

Irina took a moment to simply register that, baffled by the ramble of information and not being too
sure if she was still hearing it right.

“Wait wait wait,” Irina held up her hands to stop the man from speaking further-- seriously Nao
was speaking like a master of information dumps-- “you’re coordinating a ploy to get Takaoka
fired.”

Naomasa bugged out, “uh,” he stalled, “Asano-san is.”

“But you’re doing all the work.”

“Actually, Ms Autonomous is--”

“Are you actually an evil mastermind?”

“Huh? No way!”

When the Board Chairman showed up, everyone was stunned.

Naomasa watched from his spot on the desk, his camera well positioned to document the scene.
Maybe he could send it as one last message to irritate the principal.

It was-- enrapturing, to say the least-- that this man could just march up to a man everyone feared
and simply-- take him down, without even raising his hand.

Karasuma knocked Takaoka down with strength and surprise. Asano tore him apart with raw
authority and words.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Naomasa spoke to himself, knowing Irina and Korosensei were around to
eavesdrop, “Asano-san is definitely weaker than Karasuma-san-- yet no one looks down on him.
No one dares.”
Snap . He took another picture.

He laughed when Korosensei fidgeted in worry, as if he was going to be persecuted simply for
taking a couple of pictures of the scariest man in the world.

Maybe he would. But Naomasa’d been testing his limits and apparently he wasn’t there yet. Why
not push further?

“Kunomasu-sensei.”

Nao realized just a moment too late that Asano is right before him. He accidentally took a picture
of Asano’s face before he jumped back.

Very promptly, he panicked.

When he first began to send joke mail to the Board Chairman, he’d been under the assumption that
he wouldn’t come face to face with said man for another while and said man would leave him
alone. It did not work that way and he is disappointed.

“I would like to thank you for your assistance,” he smiled that one smile that really, never was real,
because it looked like the smile of nightmares, “I will have to return to my paperwork, so it would
please me to relieve you of your hourly reports… they were incredibly amusing.”

Nao winced at that. Was he going to die?

“I trust you have settled the issues on the government end?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

Nao fumbled for his phone-- oh, it’s in my hand -- and asked, “uhm, Ms Autonomous? Is
everything settled?” his voice is high from how nervous he felt, and he tried not to make it obvious
how embarrassed he was about it.

“Of course!” came Ritsu’s happy voice. She evidently had no idea how scary the man she was
talking to was.

Nao didn’t blame her, she was a robot after all.

”The government has promised his discharge under discretion and the school board will not receive
any charges or public exposure about the matter. Ritsu has covered all bases of public media in
regard to it,” she huffed proudly.

Nao looked back up at the Board Chairman, who was evidently rather amused by the Artificial
Intelligence he’s only heard of.

His smile morphed into something rather warmer-- Nao blinked and it was gone-- then he put a
hand on Nao’s shoulder for a job well done before leaving.

Nao still felt incredibly horrified by the small interaction. Irina and Korosensei stared at him,
flabbergasted.

“How on earth are you still alive?” Karasuma asked.

Irina facepalmed, and Korosensei began to lecture Ritsu about assisting in Mafia evil schemes.

Naomasa sighed.
 asking for directions.

“Uh, Nagisa-kun...”

Nagisa turned around, surprised to find Kanzaki behind him. It was rare for Nagisa to talk to
anyone other than Sugino or Kayano, much less the class madonna Kanzaki. For Kanzaki to
approach him? Is the world ending I wonder…

“What’s wrong, Kanzaki-san?”

They were three streets from Kunugigaoka’s hill, where most of the class, including Kanzaki
herself, split off in different directions.

Usually, they would never meet past that point, so it was strange how Kamzaki was behind him.
Her house was in the other direction, after all.

“Uh, would you happen to know where the Sakurai Florist’s is?” she asked, holding up a hand-
drawn map before her as she laughed a little sheepishly. “I’ve heard it was around this area, but
thinking again, this is my first time wandering to this part of town…”

Nagisa chuckled in response.

“The streets here are narrow, so it’s hard to find your way around,” he said, stepping closer to her
in hopes to catch a look of the map she had.

Kanzaki breathed out a heavy sigh in relief, “I’m so glad I caught hold of you! I’d have been lost
for hours…”

That would surely be terrifying.

But what exactly was Kanzaki trying to do, coming to such uncharted territory alone? It wasn’t
even a Friday…

“Sakurai Florist’s… ah, isn’t that Kuma-sensei’s house?” Nagisa asked, surprised to realize it
belatedly. “Come to think of it, he didn’t make it to class today… do you think he had another
surgery he didn’t tell us about?”

“I wonder…” Kanzaki hummed, “but, Kuma-sensei told me to drop by if I was ever in need of his
help, so I believe I should take full advantage of every occasion, right?”
Kanzaki was an unexpected opportunist.

“Ah, Nagisa! Oh, and Kanzaki-san’s here too,” came a voice from further away.

Fuwa Yuzuki made her merry way over to their company, a similar hand-drawn map in her hands.
Her greeting was cheerful and just the slightest bit obnoxious, but Kanzaki flawlessly, without even
a second of hesitation, returned it.

“Nagisa lives in this area, right? Perfect timing, I’m totally lost!” Fuwa laughed at herself, as if she
was proud of it, “I’m trying to find my way to Sakurai Florist’s.”

“You’re looking for Kuma-sensei too?” Nagisa didn’t really know why he was surprised.

“Uhn!” Fuwa pumped her fist, “I finally finished my novella and Kuma-sensei is definitely the first
person I want to show it to!”

She held up a stack of papers that looked incredibly thick, but Nagisa really didn’t want to question
it at all.

“What a coincidence,” Kanzaki smiled back, “I’ve written a story as well and hoped to hear Kuma-
sensei’s opinions on it. I believe we will have to share his time.”

Woah, Kuma-sensei is popular. Does he even have enough time to read that many books? Nagisa
felt kinda bad to be leading two she-demons into his direction.

“Oh, then Kanzaki-san will go first, followed by me!” Fuwa claimed the order immediately. After
all, it was only reasonable for Kanzaki to go first, since she’d found Nagisa first. “Whose do you
think he’ll like better?”

“We write in different genres, so it is rather hard to determine…” Kanzaki responded humbly at
first, “but when it comes to the quality of writing I do not think I would lose out, Fuwa-san.”

“Oh, Kanzaki-san is declaring war on me!” she sounded so ecstatic, “you’re scary, but you’re still
so beautiful! How can this ever be?”

“Well,” Nagisa decided he’d heard enough, holding a hand up to stop their conversation, “but for
now, let’s just go and ask Kuma-sensei.”

Beside them, simply passing by, a man in a coat paused.

“Yes?” he turned, addressing the three children.

Huh? The three turned back to him, confused. After a few moments of blank staring, the man
connected the dots.
“Ah, my bad,” he said, a bashful chortle rumbling from his throat, “people often call me that
too… Kuma-sensei, I mean. I’d forgotten that I was in Kunugigaoka now.”

Well, that was a little awkward.

“No… it’s perfectly fine,” Nagisa said, only out of politeness.

The man was tall. As tall as Karasuma-sensei, perhaps. His hair was also black, but it lacked the
stern kemptness Karasuma always exuded. This man had a salt and pepper stubble.

He wore an old-fashioned coat, and held a little briefcase along with his map. Nagisa noted that his
briefcase was stuck all over with animal stickers. Was he a teacher? Or a pediatric? He worked
with kids, that was for sure.

From the little dirt on his clothes and the disheveled state of his hair and collar, he had probably
just gotten off from a long train ride.

Nagisa wondered who he was.

“Ah, this is great timing, would you kids mind if I ask for directions?” he inched closer.

He felt Kanzaki take one step closer to him, and Fuwa took the opportunity to stand behind Nagisa
as well, hissing a little too sharply about how this guy was a picture-book pedophile or something.

(Fuwa-san, shush, he can hear you!)

The strange man smiled at them, a farce of kindness that was probably nice, or probably just the
face of a kidnapper. But it’s okay, Nagisa thought, they can uh, probably defend themselves to like,
a certain degree. Or not.

Nagisa panicked internally. He may not seem so, but he was the guy of this current trio. That did
not exactly boost his confidence at all, and most would agree that Kanzaki could single-handedly
nerf a delinquent gang if you let her.

But Nagisa’s anxiety quelled immediately at the question the man asked.

“Would you happen to know where Sakurai Florist’s is?”

All time stopped.

“Huh?”
-

“Ah, you kids are from Naomasa’s class, aren’t you?” the lady that opened the door was infatuated
by the children immediately, “come on in!”

The lady was so chipper and lively, she left the staff door open and headed inside, expecting them
to follow.

From the store, the distinct call of “Nacchan! Your students are here to see you” could be heard.

A few seconds of silence happened with them wondering whether they should follow (but it’s a
little rude) (but she did give permission) (but this is like, an unannounced visit shouldn’t we just
wait till Kuma-sensei comes out and lets us in himself) (I think she wants to serve us tea so we
should follow her…)

“Nacchan,” Fuwa fawned, hands on her cheeks from the utter moe of the situation, “she calls him
Nacchan!”

“She seems like a very nice mother,” Kanzaki agreed.

Nagisa felt kinda sorry for him now.

Suddenly Ms Sakurai doubled right back from the door, looking beyond the three children with a
sort of surprised realization.

“I didn’t realize at first because of your awful hair, but is that you, Kazu-kun?”

All three children paused. They turned to the passer-by that had asked for directions before this,
and all of a sudden something made sense.

In fact, they had ignored him moments before because they thought he was simply an eccentric
customer, but it seems it was more than that. He was crouching down to look at the orange lilies at
the front porch.

He seemed to look at them almost sadly, cradling each flower as if it was a hurtful thing to
remember-- then he straightened and smiled at Ms Sakurai.

“It’s been a while, Ms Sakurai,” he greeted her, “I hope you are well. Is my younger brother around
today?”
And Ms Sakurai, who previously looked chipper, sighed almost helplessly.

“He’s been dreading your arrival for so long, he was entirely ecstatic to have a seminar scheduled
today in his school later this evening,” she told him, “unfortunately for him, you managed to arrive
before he could leave.”

The man laughed boisterously at that.

“Well, our relationship has never been the best,” he admitted dryly, “he even left out the orange
lilies for me, how mean of him.”

“He wanted to pick out the black roses, but I stopped him,” Ms Sakurai sighed for the nth time that
hour, “enough of that. Come on in and I’ll get him to come downstairs. You children too!”

The three children flinched, suddenly realizing they’d probably listened in on some familial banter
they had no business hearing, but really couldn’t escape anymore.

Much more, this man was Kunomasu Kazumasa… the older brother Naomasa had always been
reluctant to speak about.
 to be beside him as we walk.
Chapter Notes

I'm alive! Crazy, right? Sorry for the long wait :) Don't worry, this story isn't dropped,
I'm just pacing myself. I'm really happy that this story is loved so much-- love you
guys so, so much T^T

If you hadn't already known, there's an Ask my OC going on on my wattpad and

instagram account. You can click into the story highlight to drop any questions you
want-- or, you can just drop a comment on this chapter if you want.

Do go check that out if you're interested!

“How do you say this,” Fuwa contemplated, staring a little blatantly at the man, “he’s not what I
imagined.”

Nagisa nodded.

They’d only heard about it a handful of times, but each time mentioned him as something short of a
very qualified professor; Someone who sets the international exam papers; A wandering doctor
sought out for in many hospitals, even for just a short while.

Sometimes they even wonder why Naomasa hated him so.

“I’d have expected a... more… refined man,” Kanzaki admitted, “though I guess I shouldn’t judge
him by appearances.”

“Ah, because Kanzaki-san’s true nature exceeded expectations too--”

The children looked up.

“What’s with that ridiculous bag? Decided to take up clown as a part time job? Did you finally get
fired? Lost your medical license? Went to jail?” Nao raised a skeptical eyebrow, arms folded as he
didn’t even bother to hide the scowl on his face. His glare was low and furious, like a kitten on
high alert.

“You sure curse me a lot every time I drop by!” Older Kuma responded brightly, smiling wide on
his face. “Thank goodness I’ve already been stricken with a lifetime’s worth of bad luck just
having you as my younger brother.”

“You piece of--” Nao stopped himself, sitting back down. He took a moment just breathing-- then,
“what are you doing here?”

Kazumasa hummed.

His smile drifted a little, and his gaze softened at his younger brother. His gaze was set on the boy
in consideration-- but Nao only felt increasingly uncomfortable.

It reminded him of Board Chairman Asano. There was a layer on the man, something that really
exuded the air of I know more than you do and you can’t change that. Nao hated it. He didn’t like
to be left in the dark about anything.

Nao set a hand on his elbow nervously, and looked away. It just happened that his students were
here today… What a cruel joke.

“I came to see how you were doing.”

There’s a startled pause when Kazu told him that. His voice was smooth, gentle-- and, even
without sensing it, he could feel the love and the care and the worry from that voice.

Like a father talking to his son-- like a brother who just wants his younger sibling to be safe where
they can see them.

Him?

Nao stiffened sharply-- and with a sharp hiss, he jerked out of his seat, grabbed the cup of tea on
the table-- and swung it forward, emptying its contents right on the man before him.

There’s a gasp from the students, and a shocked silence overtook.

Nao stood still, breath sharp and raspy-- but then he took a deeper, slower breath, and set the
empty tea cup on the table, on its dish.
He’d just thrown a full cup of tea on his brother.

And he really could care less.

“What a fucking joke,” he spat the words out, hateful just thinking of it. If possible, he wanted to
forget those words, that tone, that voice, forever.

Just remembering it made him want to throw up.

Kazumasa sits there, soaked and cold, unable to compose a response. Maybe he expected that
reaction, among many others. He had a pained look on his face (as if he had any right to it) and his
expression was, surprisingly, very hurt.

Nao didn’t pay it any mind. He picked up his work bag, and turned to his students.

“Sorry about this, you three. Want to talk outside?”

The children decided they’d rather come back tomorrow. Or the day after.

It's for the better.

Ms Sakurai sent them off with a flower each, and Nao took the opportunity to leave for his seminar
in school.

He's still officially under the employment of the school, and unlike with Karasuma and Irina, he
needed to keep up appearances as a member of the faculty.

There was a meeting each month for every department to catch up and revise on their progress, and
having been a core member of the Language Department before his division, Naomasa was entitled
to attend.

In fact, Kuma-sensei’s presence in the monthly meetings was vital to prevent suspicions from
rising regarding the class on the mountain, so Board Chairman Asano made sure to save him a
proper seat each time to ensure he made it.
Especially after Ms Yukimura quit last time around, the teachers were rather… curious about the
identity of whoever took after that classroom. To the others in Kunugigaoka, and under official
registry, Kunomasu Naomsa was written up as the homeroom teacher of 3-E.

(They couldn’t exactly write “Unidentified Slimy Octopus, temp name Korosensei” on the papers
that would go into records, after all.)

He marched his way to the school building, his nerves willing him to tighten his tie for once. HIs
brother was an unkempt person. He didn’t want to seem like him.

“Have you been well, Kunomasu-sensei?”

The voice is suddenly just there, beside him. Nao shrieks and shoots away, crashing into the
nearest other person.

“Kunomasu--” the other teacher was about to reprimand him, then he spotted the principal too and
together, they shrieked at the principal.

“How long have you been there, sir?!”

“Don’t pop out of nowhere!”

Board Chairman Asano chuckles at that. He’s a demon, ugh.

Waving away the other teacher as he left, Nao found himself escorted toward the meeting room.
Actually, Asano called it ‘let’s walk there together’, but yeah, no one can just simply ‘walk
together’ with Board Chairman Asano. You have a death wish?

Nao sighed.

“So…”

Nao flinched when he was suddenly addressed.

“How was your day?”

Nao found himself clutching the strap of his bag. What’s with that awkward conversation starter?
Is this part of another layered plot of his?

“It… it was fine, I guess,” he managed a response, “went to the hospital last night for a check and
they set me free about two hours ago… I’m tired, but I guess it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Yeah. That sounded like a decent answer. Nothing too personal and nothing out of the ordinary.
Generic and plain--

“Really? You look more than tired to me,” Asano’s brows lowered slightly, and this time he looked
at Naomasa, there was a hint of curious concern in his expressions.

Screw you anime logic, of course everything that happens to me gets immediately observed! Every
adult’s humble capabilities are lost to the first named character they meet, for drama
purposes! What the heck is this, some dramatic foreshadow for me to join the board chairman b on
the dark side?

Naomasa clenched at the fabric around his shirt, and just looked away.

He didn’t answer.

“Why do you think so?” he asks instead.

“Because you’re wearing your tie properly,” Asano didn’t miss a beat when he answered. A
moment later, he added very necessarily, “it's a first, as far as I know.”

Nao paused, considering that.

Then he burst into laughter he didn’t know he had in him, doubling over in sheer amusement.
When he managed to pause for a breath, he looked at Asano then burst into another round of
giggles.

Asano just looked so flabbergasted, eyes wide with surprise.

So something can even take him by surprise?

“What’s with that,” Nao wiped a tear from his eyes, “heck, you said exactly what I thought you’d
say. Is the author getting terrible at planning little foreshadows, because that was so obviously a
setup.”

Asano blinked, confused.

And if something confuses the Board Chairman, surely it’s impressive.

“Why would you of all people notice something like that, anyways?” Nao stifled his laughter into
little chuckles, the smile wide on his face. “That makes no sense at all!”

He stepped a little ahead so he stood beside the Board Chairman instead of behind him.

When they continued on their way, they were walking side by side.
 a visit to the devil's house.

“What is going on here?”

“Hi, Asano-kun, I came to invade.”

Asano Gakushuu was flabbergasted. Let’s not question the fact that his dad was home early for
once-- what is Kunomasu-sensei doing here?!

The very-familiar, kinda klutzy, very infamous teacher stood at the door.

His dad simply strode in like nothing was wrong. He made a beeline for his room, holding his
work papers and throwing a few words behind him.

“You may use the guest room. Have my son show you there. If there are any problems, I will be
working in my office.”

And he just goes. Like nothing’s wrong.

His office door closed. Kuma-sensei was smiling at the door, waiting for instructions. Gakushuu
kinda wanted to flip a table.

“So basically, I ran away from home,” Nao told him over a cup of hot chocolate.

Gakushuu had his face inch-deep in his palm. He honestly still couldn’t believe that this teacher
was in his house. No teacher ever visited him-- his dad’s the Board Chairman, for god’s sake.

He never even had friends over, and suddenly he has to entertain a teacher??

“Sir, you’re an adult,” he stressed the last word.

Nao beamed, “which is why I ran away with permission!”

Gakushuu had the sudden urge to do a flip off the balcony. His hands tightened on the mug he was
holding, and he turned away to give a very heavy sigh.
What exactly did his father find charming in this?

“Regardless, Kunomasu-sensei,” Gakushuu said with a sigh, “I would prefer if you had a little
more self-preservation than this.”

No one messed with the Board Chairman as much as Nao, and it was for a very good reason.
Kuma-sensei might have had a leeway thus far, but surely this, too, had limits.

Nao smiled warmly at that.

“It’s fine,” he said. Gakushuu looked up. Nao prodded at the side of the mug, “I think the Board
Chairman is scary… but it’s much better than going home right now.”

Gakushuu faintly pondered upon those words. He took a sip of his own drink.

“You sure have it hard,” Nao told him, “you have such a scary father. Does he ever feel like a dad?
Or is he pretty much never there?”

Gakushuu was slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in topics. The conversation had suddenly
flipped from him to him and…

“I’m fine as it is,” Gakushuu told him, “I do not… need him to act like a father anymore. I can
handle myself just fine.”

Nao leaned his chin into his hand, elbow propped on the table, and he gave the boy a knowing
smile.

“I’m sure you wonder about it too, sometimes.” Nao chuckled, “how is a ‘father’ supposed to act,
anyways? I never had a dad, so I don’t know either.”

Gakushuu looked up at that.

Nao drank his hot chocolate. “To me, things like a family-- they’ve never really been there. There
was something, once upon a time-- but it’s long gone. I can’t even remember how it feels, but I
lived this far… so maybe I don’t need it, after all. That’s what I believe, too.”

Gakushuu’s fist tightened on his mug, and he stood up.

“I’m going to bed,” he stubbornly declared, “good night, Kunomasu-sensei.”

“Gakushuu,” Nao interrupted him. The boy didn’t turn around to look, but Nao continued talking.
“Unlike me, you still have time to treasure these bonds,” he said. “Whatever you do… make sure
the regret doesn’t linger in your heart.”

Gakushuu closed the door behind him.

Nao put a hand at his chest, over his heart. “I’m such a hypocrite.”

Nao didn’t want to go home. His brother was there, trying to pretend he still had any right to talk to
him.

Nao hated Kazu. That’s a fact that won’t ever change, at any time in any world no matter the
actions, roads, and mistakes.

Nao didn’t want to give Kazu a chance.

So he ran… to Asano, of all people.

A few months ago, if he told himself he would seek solace in the Board Chairman, he would have
laughed and jumped out the window.

Yet here he was, sitting by the balcony of a building he had no right being in-- looking at the stars.

Gakushuu was in a similar situation, if he thought about it.

Their family’s done nothing but harm to their hearts. They won’t ever get on their knees to
apologize, yet at some point, Nao and Gakushu would have to be the ones to speak first, to forgive
them and begin setting down new blocks to the relationship.

Maybe that was what led him, instinctively, to wanting to help the boy out.

Maybe deep inside, Nao wanted to fix his relationship with Kazu, despite everything. And right
now, he was just too much of a stubborn coward to do it himself.

He clutched at his shirt, around his heart, and he had to laugh miserably.

Is he getting desperate because he doesn’t have any time left?

Is he desperately wanting to leave his mark in history, after all this time?

“If you love too little, no one will ever know you lived.”

(Dammit, it’s because Korosensei said unnecessary things.)

He felt the tears come. And in the safety of a sleeping house and the moonlit night, he let himself
cry, undisturbed.

“Oh, Kunomasu-sensei,” Gakuho turned around casually, “your collar is untidy.” And he stepped
closer, reaching for the younger man.

Quickly and expertly inserting himself in between the two adults, Gakushuu stood before Nao and
his father.

The mutual glares were kind of hard to watch, but for once, Gakushuu wasn’t backing off in front
of the Board Chairman.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gakuho demanded in the most chastised, innocent way he could
probably irritatedly muster, and Gakushuu stood firm.

“Please get a little further away from Kunomasu-sensei, Sir Board Chairman,” Gakushuu told his
father, with all due respect. Then he turned to Nao, “and Kunomasu-sensei, there is a mirror on the
desk, you may fix your collar there.”

Nao saw sparks between their fiery gazes. What’s going on?

Then Gakushuu hooked an arm around the teacher and pulled him out the door. “Well then, let us
leave. Please excuse us, sir Board Chairman, we will head out ahead of you.”

And Nao is hastily pulled out the door, across the street, his arm held captive by a very prickly
fourteen-year-old.

When they’re really far out of earshot and halfway to school, Gakushuu swirled on the teacher and
all but snapped.

“Kuma-sensei, please have just a little more self-preservation skills!” he hissed, bristling like a
ruffled puppy.

Nao was confused. “Wouldn’t I be in more trouble if I said no? Like, it’d be rude when he’s just
trying to be nice, right?” And oh, did Gakushuu just call him Kuma?

And Gakushuu shot back like he’d been burned, “god it’s worse than I thought. You’re not dumb.
You’re just blur as fuck.”

It’s honestly the first time Nao ever heard this model student swear or seen him lose his composure
like this, so although he’s still not too sure what Gakushuu is implying, he smiled and enjoyed this
amazing view.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured, “the Board Chairman hasn’t threatened my life in ages.”

“That’s exactly why it’s not fine!!”

 a way to unwind.

“Please don’t ever fucking come back again.”

Kazu was heading back to wherever the hell he was going-- and Ms Sakurai had dragged Nao up at
the break of dawn to see him off. The woman herself was somewhere else, doing an early delivery.

It’s nostalgic. That day so many years ago and today as well, his siblings always leave at the crack
of daylight and never seem to come back again.

In the few days Kazu had stayed, he’d gone over to Matsukawa, traded hospital records, and had
some descriptive talk about Nao’s physical state or something. They may or may not have had an
extensive debate about future treatment and life expectancy, but Nao didn’t bother listening to a
word of it.

He was just glad Kazu was finally gonna leave, because if their predictions are right, this will most
probably be the last time they ever meet again. That's the best news he's ever heard.

“Sure, sure,” Kazu sighed, looking over his shoulder. “You know, Nao… I’m glad you grew up
well.”

Nao reached for the gardening scissors.

“Scary one, aren’t you?” Kazu said heatlessly, picking up his suitcase. “Wonder who you got that
from.”

“Just hurry up and leave,” Nao groaned, ready to shut the door and forget all this seeing-him-off
business. He had a report to submit in the morning and this isn’t doing him any favours at all.

For a moment, Kazu seemed intent on talking more, just to annoy his younger brother-- but he
relented, nodded, and turned away. But he didn't stay completely silent for long.

“You have a nephew, you know.”

Nao froze. “What?”

Kazu began walking. “Kazane left a kid,” he said, in a frustratingly nonchalant manner, “feisty
one. He’s just like you.”

Nao did not like the implications of that. “I’m not a kid anymore, Kazu,” he hissed, “stop treating
me like one.”

He didn’t listen. “You’ll always be our little brother, even if you hate us,” he said-- and the soft
look in his eyes just made his blood boil. “I’m watching him now.”

Naomasa scoffed at that. So Kazu was taking care of Kazane’s kid? That sounds awfully familiar.
Must be tough being the twin of an absolute good-for-nothing.
“And where’s Madonna herself?” he asked, sarcastic.

Of course they don’t know where she is. She could go burn in the fire like her birth papers, and
Nao would skim the news over like he does the weather reports.

Kazumasa turned back one last time, giving his brother a meaningful glance. “Tell me if you ever
want to meet him. I can make arrangements.”

“Don’t bother,” Nao’s words were like poison. “We’re not family.”

And then he shut the door.

The summer heat is cruel to Naomasa.

His brother’s absolute whirlwind of a visit left him a mental wreck. Add that on to the stress of the
approaching final examinations, the increasing workload from his homeroom duties, and the death
climb up the damn mountain.

To make matters worse, whatever it is that’s bleeding decided to bleed today, too. His
handkerchief was a nasty shade of red halfway up the mountain. His throat hurt.

He just wanted out.

It’s the middle of the day, which means he’s late as hell-- ugh, how could a teacher possibly be late
to school? He’s gonna get a lecture after this that he’s not in the mood to listen to.

“This sucks,” he muttered, taking out his phone and dialing a number he knows won’t be troubled
to pick up at this hour. “Hello, Karasuma-san. I’m dying, so can I go home?”

There’s silence on the other end.

Then from the top of the mountain, a loud screaming noise. Kimura Masayoshi is yelling
something that sounds distinctly like his name, charging down at a speed that can’t be healthy in
this heat.

“Ah, there’s my ride.”

Dipping his feet in the stream, Nao sighed in relief.

“Bless the swimming pool,” he muttered, sitting down on a cool rock.

“Are you alright, Kuma-sensei?” Sugino asked, laughter in his voice. Nao’s ‘do I LOOK
okay’ went unheard as he turned to Kimura, who was clinging onto Isogai as a lifebuoy. “Man, you
sure work hard.”

Kimura raised a shaky thumbs up.

“Kuma-sensei’s physical condition seems to be deteriorating,” Ritsu’s voice came up on Nao’s

phone, “shall I retrieve your medical records to update the Kuma-sensei care procedures?”

“No no no,” Nao picked up his phone, “please do not mind me.”

Ritsu had better not go within eight feet of those medical records. He didn’t want anyone
connecting the dots on his due date just yet-- Korosensei was doing a splendid job of distracting
everyone from it, after all.

“So, the pool, huh?” he said, looking over at Korosensei on the lifeguard post. “How long have we
had a pool again?”

Nagisa chuckled, “twenty four hours, apparently.”

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, it's about time for Itona's second appearance. Nao made a pretty irritable first
impression, so he’s not sure if he’s looking forward to this one. Maybe he should stay in the
classroom and wait it out.

Yeah, that sounded nice.

Don’t need to bother with the assassination craziness. No one is expecting Nao to change the future
or anything, after all.

(But if they are, then oh well. Guess they’ll be disappointed.)

“What are you doing, Terasaka-kun?”

Terasaka jumped.

He’d charged out of the classroom and proceeded to crash his heel right into the nearest tree out of
sight, roaring something about octopi and suck-ups and good-for-nothing wusses. Profanity
redacted, of course.

He did not expect to hear Nao’s voice interrupt his rant.

Terasaka looked around-- and finally found the teacher lying supine on the branch.

His jaw promptly dropped open. “Hell are you doing up there, Kuma-sensei?!”

Nao hummed, removing the book from his face. “I was trying to copy edgy anime boys, you see, I
thought it’d be cool or something,” he admitted. “But this is very uncomfortable. And I can’t get
down.”

“What are you, a kitten?!” Terasaka snapped back immediately, “how did you even get up there?”

“I tried my best.”

“At being a moron!”

Nao had to admit, he deserved that. Still he sat up, closing the novel. “I finally had a breaktime, so
I wanted to be somewhere away from Doc Ock,” he said, mirthfully. “I now see my actions are
dumb. I deeply apologize for the trouble.”

Spoken with a bachelor’s degree in sarcasm.

Terasaka groaned, turning around, “jump onto my back. You can do that much without dying,
right?” he said, though it sounded more like a threat.

“What a gentleman,” Nao teased. He dropped down, landing with his arms easily around the bulky
boy’s shoulders. Terasaka took over easily from there, holding onto the teacher like an expert
before carefully settling him back down.

Nao’s weight was almost nothing to him, which was quite impressive. Guess bulky delinquent
brutes have their uses after all.

“So?” Nao said, dusting himself off before sitting down by the tree, “what were you so irritated
about, Terasaka-kun?”

He scoffed, turning away, “it’s none of your business.”

Nao smiled at him, definitely knowing better. “Alright then,” he won’t chase for it. “This is a nice
spot, so I’ll be here if you wanna talk.”

“I won’t!” Terasaka groaned. “You’re annoying. I’m going home.”

Nao chuckled.

T o: Asano-san

From: Me

Image22.jpg
(ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

To: Me
 From: Asano-san

…
What is that?

To: Asano-san

From: Me

Aliens I guessヽ(。_°)ノ

Also he’s our transfer student who

Finally showed up after skipping
For a couple of weeks, but details.

Karasuma looked over. “What are you doing?”

Nao leaned over the windowsill, typing away at his phone. “Texting the board chairman.”

Karasuma gave him a look. Nao glanced back in a way that challenged him to say something
incredulous about it again-- but Karasuma wisely turned away.

“Tone it down around the students,” was his only warning.

Nao took a moment to register that, but he swirled around, and his face scrunched up unpleasantly,
“what was that supposed to mean?”

Karasuma didn’t elaborate.

Anyways.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna interfere with that?” Nao said, “our students are kinda flying over
there, y’know.”

Karasuma blinked. Then, “what?”

Unlike Nao who had been sitting here in feigned calmness for the past hour, Karasuma had only
just arrived. He’d been busy with government work until now, so all he knew of the moment was
that the kids were at the pool again.

Nao showed him the picture of Itona and Korosensei’s battle. He’d snapped a picture of it and
came right back, not wanting any part in the madness.

Karasuma promptly burst a vein, “what is going on?!”

Nao hummed amusedly, scrolling through the rest of his pictures, “that’s cool. The Board
Chairman kinda asked me the same thing.”

“Why are you so calm?!”

“Stress isn’t good for my heart.”

Karasuma cursed, picking up his gun and knife before rushing out. “I’m heading over! You stay
here and--” he swore again, stopping at the door to snap at the other teacher, “agh! Just stay there!”

Nao waved at him nonchalantly, “okay, have fun.”

Maybe he should steal some snacks from Korosensei’s stash while he waits.

Later that day, Nao opened a pack of pocky under the tree.

“Want one?” he asked.

Terasaka spotted him and clicked his tongue. “Well. At least you’re not on the tree this time…”

Nao pouted, “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

Instead of walking away however, he sat down beside Nao with an annoyed look, taking the pocky
from the teacher’s hands and munching angrily on it. He was still drenched and covered in mud
from all their splashing around, but that didn’t matter now.

“So, Terasaka-kun, you look like you’re in a great mood,” Nao teased.

Terasaka snatched the entire box of pocky, ignoring the protesting whine from Nao.

“Shut up!” he snapped, and the teacher pouted. “Absolutely nothing has been going right for me
this past damn year! Ah fuck. This entire school ain't right, my life's gone to shit since first year!”

Nao hummed, “oh really?” he asked, promptingly.

“Yeah,” Terasaka grunted. Throwing his free arm exasperatedly into the air, he began to rant. “To
begin with, it’s all the fault of this school’s ridiculous class system! Back in the main campus there
was this absolute dick--”

He began to go on a tangent, complaining about every and anything he could possibly think of.
Nao let him go on, humming in acknowledgement at some points and responding in others.

The pocky lay finished between them, but that didn't stop the conversation at all. Terasaka ranted
on and on until the sun set, but Nao honestly didn’t mind.

Everyone needed a way to unwind after a stressful situation.

Listening to other people’s problems just happened to be Nao’s.
 there's always time for cram sessions.

“There are no shortcuts in Language tests,” Nao declared, setting a hand on the blackboard.

The words FINALS were written large and rough on the board.

“Just practice and read and practice and read. Even then, there’s always a chance you’ll lose points
by misunderstanding a purposefully vague question phrasing, so you know what’s the catch in all
this?”

The students held their breaths.

“Easy. It’s Luck,” Nao said almost anticlimactically.

A good deal of students simultaneously face-faulted.

He continued talking, unfazed by their disappointed reactions, “exam questions are assholes. And
how do you deal with assholes?” he pointed sharply at Terasaka, “you! Answer me.”

Terasaka sat there, stunned for a moment. Then, “uh. You punch them?”

“Exactly,” Nao’s answer erected a series of horrified gasps across the classroom, including a less
subtle one from Korosensei outside. Nao set a stack of papers on the table. “Break it down, pick it
apart. Draw your swords and stab it until it’s full of holes.”

He passed the papers to be distributed. Fuwa made a terrified noise when she realized it was a
stack per person, not a piece per person.

“At the end of the day, a paper full of nonsense is better than a paper that’s empty,” he told them as
they began to skim the questions. “You force your way through enough of these and you’ll
instinctively know how to stab in the correct ways. That’s the beauty of language-- everything can
go to hell, because violence is the way to go.”

Startling silence.

Then Karma whistled, "best. Teacher. Ever."

There’s one constantly repeated rule in Kunugigaoka that isn't enforced, but highly encouraged. It’s
not part of the A to E class tyranny system-- it’s a law passed down as ‘common sense’ through the
school year.

“If you have any questions for Language subjects, you ask me-- the teacher in charge of your class-
- and never anyone else.”

Honestly, it’s a classic policy. Many more schools should have it in their code, in Nao’s honest
opinion.

The idea behind it is simple-- every teacher teaches differently, so if you get advice from another
teacher, their supposed ‘shortcuts’ won’t be congruent with everything else you’ve learned. This
only applies to Language subjects, however.

“One teacher might tell you to group your data into points and write them in order. Another teacher
might tell you to break it down and write them alternatively. Are they both right? Yes,” Nao said,
“but which is better, and do I have time to think of it all? Hell no! Don’t underestimate my
laziness!”

“I’ve been wondering why yours and Karma’s way of essay writing was so weird,” Sugino
groaned, looking at Nagisa, “whoever taught your class did it weirdly, didn't they?”

Nagisa nodded at that. “Only Karma-kun could understand him.”

“It works pretty well for me, though,” Karma said. “My grades are stable.”

“That’s because Nagisa writes down everything as he thinks, but Karma calculates all the
information in his head first,” Sugino said, “there’s too much inthinking with that method that my
brainpower can’t keep up.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Karma has always been better at deciphering things quickly. But the new
method from Korosensei is much easier to understand, though,” Nagisa said, “so I’m fine now.”

"I like Kuma-sensei's method more. It's straightforward."

"I'm sticking with my old teacher's method because I'm used to it. Korosensei said it was fine, and
he knows how to improve on it."

If there was something E class had an undeniable advantage in against A class, it was the fact that
they had a teacher who could effectively cope with their individual perks and weaknesses.

There was no 'absolute correct' method to get things done in Language classes, and Korosensei was
more than prepared (with a few dozen clones) to find what was best for everyone in the classroom.

That didn't mean the students had it any much easier, though.

“We’ve got too much work already!” Sugino agreed, slamming his head on the table,
“you just gave us a whole book to finish!”

“Exactly!” Kimura said, holding up the stack of papers. “How are we expected to finish all this on
top of our other studying?”

“I haven’t slept for three days!”

“Fuwa-san, your problem has nothing to do with studying!”

“I’m sorry, I fell into the hellhole known as One Piece!”

“Then I expect an essay on racism in One Piece by tomorrow.”

“You’re a demon!”

“It’s practice,” Nao said, setting down the chalk and crossing his arms. “Compare it to the
American Revolution and make it three pages at least. It’ll be History and Social Studies practice,
two birds a stone.”

“Spare me, please!”

“Don’t whine. You’re good at history, so it’s easy-- it’s just more writing.”

“IT'S JUST MORE WRITING!” Fuwa yelled incredulously, ending in some despaired sobbing
noise.

Sugino patted her on the back.

Nao proceeds with his lecture.

“Language is four-dimensional, and a teenager’s brain can only cram so much of it before it gives
up," he raises a finger, “that’s why you-- or usually, your teachers, pick one way that works and
they get right down to it. The priority of a school semester is to master the core element of what’s
being tested-- not to expand your general knowledge in the topic.”

“So it’s like Korosensei’s english classes versus Bitch-sensei’s english classes, huh.”

“I much prefer Bitch-sensei’s, though,” Yada admitted, “they don’t help with tests, but it’s cool to
know all the cool slangs and stuff.”

“And swear words,” Nakamura chuckled at that. “The swear words are the best.”

“You’re staying the night?” Irina asked, looking back at Nao in the office. “Aren’t you doing that a
lot more often now?”

Nao hummed, flipping the page of his book. “It’s easier to stay up here than to go down again. The
octopus will be with me, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried!” Irina snapped instinctively.

“Thank you,” Nao said anyways, jotting something down. “I just need to get this done before the
end of the term, and it’s taking longer than I’d thought.”

Irina raised a brow at that. Wasn’t Nao reading another book a few days ago…? Yeah, the one a
few days ago had a dark green leather cover with an amber ribbon. This one was purple and
decorated gaudily with camouflage patterns.

It was just a little under the size of an A5 notebook, and held maybe two hundred pages of-- wait,
that’s handwritten.
Irina snatched it away, and Nao whined. “I was reading that!”

“Isn’t this Fuwa Yuzuki’s notebook?” Irina looked through it, “is every page-- every page is filled
in with-- is this a detective novel?!”

“Hey, that’s rude! She didn’t say you could read that yet,” Nao held out a hand in an indication to
return it, “I’m supposed to be the first reader.”

Irina’s jaw dropped.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than review our student’s novels?” she said, setting the book
page-down in the teacher's hand. “Finals are coming, if I recall.”

“This is studying, too,” Nao told her, straight out. “Vocabulary, sentence structure, purple prose.
The more you practice using it, the more you understand how to grasp it in a wall of text. It’s not
perfect-- but it’s a passion project.”

Irina looked away, unable to deny the perks of that.

They both understood from there-- the most efficient way of learning and mastering a skill was to
have a burning passion for it. Irina was the same in her assassination methods, so she couldn’t
exactly deny its effectiveness.

But hold on for a darn second, “so Fuwa wrote two novels? When did she ever have time for that?”

Nao blinked-- then, seemingly understanding why she asked the question, he drew up the green
leather-bound book from the drawer.

“You mean this?” he asked rhetorically, lifting up the purple book like a comparison. “The one I’m
reading now is by Fuwa-san. This other one is written by Kanzaki-san.”

Irina instantly connected the name to the prettiest student in class. Irina had to admit-- she didn’t
peg that girl as the type to write novels in class.

Maybe poems on occasion, but really-- who has the motivation to write novels in class instead of,
y’know, focusing on class?

“That’s not all,” Nao said, reaching for his file, where there were stray papers, cards, and scribbled
notes all sealed carefully within the plastic pages.

And Irina’s jaw dropped straight down.

“Kataoka-san doesn’t have the patience for novels, but occasionally, she comes up to me with
really pretty one-liners to put on greeting cards,” Nao told her. "Yada-san wanted to write an
autobiography, but she’s still working on it."

That folder was thick and filled nearly halfway through. It was always on his desk and he never
carried it around unnecessarily, so Irina never bothered to give it too many looks. But now she saw
it-- and what she saw baffled her.

“Hazama-san is a little further down the Chuunibyou route with her book of deep dark quotes, but I
think it’s rather charming,” he chuckled, “Nagisa tends to monologue in cool one-liners, so he
always writes them down. And sometimes, he gives them to the people they’re about.”

There were plenty of amateurish lines in there-- it was filled with childish, clumsy sentences that
bore little substance in real life.

But the point was-- all of this was part of something they were passionate about, and all of this was
proof of their undeniable love for language, in some form or the other.

Irina didn’t know there was so much passion in this classroom.

Sure, they were always uplifting, especially after the whole second blade talk they’ve had-- but she
never saw these things.

These endearing, innocent little habits and hobbies, being used to nurture and cultivate
individuality.

Korosensei was quickly and thoroughly preparing them for the future. Naomasa was lax and
carefree, enabling mischief and allowing them to treasure the present.

And Irina honestly liked the latter so much better.

Even now, Nao was taking what little time he had to deal with something as intensive as fully
reviewing a novel.

She scoffed. “You’re spoiling them.”

Nao smirked. “I get that a lot.”

“Hello?”

It was nearly two in the morning when Nao received a phone call from an unknown number.
Korosensei was on the other side of the planet watching a movie, so he had intended to stay up
until he got the fifth chapter of this book done with.

“Good evening, Kunomasu-sensei,” came a strangely familiar voice. “Or should I say good
morning? I apologize for the late hour. This is Asano Gakushuu speaking.”

...Hello, school boy, do you know there’s school in six hours? Why are you awake?

Instead of that, Nao set the book down on the table. “Ah, Gakushuu-kun? I wasn’t aware you knew
my number,” where is your damn father if he’s not controlling your sleep hours, “it really is getting
rather late, however...”
“Is this an inconvenience?”

Nao paused. Well, all the attitude and incredulous time aside, he supposed Gakushuu wasn’t one to
call without proper reason.

“...no. Not at all.”

What could the model student of Kunugigaoka possibly want from this exiled teacher on the
satellite campus?

He’s very interested.

“Then, I will skip the formalities,” ah, people should really follow Gakushuu’s example. Skip the
politeness, we don’t have the word count for that. “Kunomasu-sensei, would it be possible for me
to acquire your tutelage any time in the next week?”

Oh. Whatever Nao was expecting, this wasn’t it.

“I believe it is most wise for me to catch up on the curriculum under your guidance, as I am
more accustomed to your teachings than the other teachers on main campus,” Gakushuu replied
easily, like he’d rehearsed this plenty of times.

Well well well, that’s exactly what Nao was talking about to E class earlier in the day.

And Nao did coincidentally have Gakushuu in his classes for the past two years, somehow. He
would probably have A class again this year if he didn’t get exiled.

Awh man, one of E’s biggest advantages-- the amount of individual focus they get in each subject--
is being stripped away right here by Gakushuu’s foresight.

“You are a very shrewd boy, Gakushuu-kun,” he said. Standing up, he walked up to the curtains
and pulled them shut. “Alright then. I’ve always been a teacher that spoiled my students rotten.
Would this weekend be alright?”

Gakushuu chuckled slightly.

“Of course,” came the response. “Thank you, Kuma-sensei. Good night.”

“Good night,” and then he hung up.

He was still a certified teacher under Kunugiaoka’s staff list, and Gakushuu had properly booked a
consultation session for this weekend-- that’s nothing out of the ordinary, and is a perfectly valid
method of self-study.

It didn’t matter that Nao was the teacher of Class 3-E-- they are a ‘teacher’ and ‘student’ before
they are members of currently warring factions. Gakushuu was just using all the weapons in his
arsenal-- and he wasn’t breaking any rules.
He just found the loopholes, and he was proudly exploiting them.

This wouldn’t be considered cheating, right?

Nao found himself giggling at the thought. He couldn’t wait for Korosensei to find out. The
octopus would be absolutely horrified.
 final scores and the rewards that come after.

“Sorry, Kanzaki-san,” Nao had to apologize anyways. “My hands were tied. Metaphorically, I
mean. I really didn’t mean to do that.”

Finals were over, and despite her best efforts, Kanzaki lost against Asano Gakushuu in the Modern
Lit battle.

(Korosensei found out about him tutoring Gakushuu the day after the final paper. Needless to say,
Nao was greeted the next morning by a row of Koro-clones protesting about favouritism and spies
masquerading as bears, whatever that means.)

(Nao promptly retaliated by monopolizing his classes with a long lecture about the perks of finding
and exploiting loopholes in predetermined rules. Exams were over and results were pending-- plus,
Karasuma had to admit that this knowledge was useful in assassination.)

Kanzaki shook her head, “no, I don’t blame you at all, Kuma-sensei,” she bowed. “I am more
frustrated at myself, for the few mistakes I made.”

“No no, you did amazing!”

“But Asano-kun did better,” she said. “I am still in awe, to be honest--” she looked at the chart
again, a hand laid on the ranking for Modern Lit results. “--I didn’t know it was possible to gain a
perfect score in Literature. And yet, here it is.”

To be honest, Nao was still speechless too.

Kanzaki and Asano were his proudest students to date, so he was expecting both of them to do
pretty damn well-- but Asano just blew expectations right out of the water.

He looked again and surely enough, the glaring 100% sat right above Kanzaki’s 96%.

“Seriously, even I never got that high of a grade,” Nao sighed, mourning his golden bragging rights
for ‘highest score ever on Japanese Literature in Kunugigaoka History’ in the school records. “And
to think I held it for more than a decade, too.”

“...huh? Kuma-sensei, you were a Kunugigaoka alumni?”

Nao blinked. “Did I never tell you guys? I was one of the first batch of students, so it probably
wasn't as great of an achievement back then,” he muttered. “But I held the record for the highest
score, ninety-eight. To think the one that would break my record would be my own student-- I
don’t know if I should cry or laugh here.”

Kanzaki was still staring blankly at him.

“What?”

“Kuma-sensei,” Kanzaki repeated, like she needed to ask it twice, “you were a Kunugigaoka
alumni?”
Nao groaned, “why is that a surprise? I teach here!”

“Kuma-sensei! Look, I did well in my Japanese!” Kurahashi showed her paper excitedly. “It’s the
highest I’ve ever gotten. I love you!”

“Yes yes, I love you too,” Nao said nonchalantly, patting her on the head while looking at the
other scores on the list. He was too focused on the ranks to notice how Kurahashi sparkled at the
response, like she'd been given heaven itself.

He frowned when he reached Karma and Sugaya’s ranks, but was pleasantly surprised by
NiseRitsu’s.

Karma had always been weakest in Japanese, but this was lower than Karma would usually let
himself go. He'll need to have a conversation with that boy later…

But NiseRitsu scored astoundingly high-- higher than something Ritsu herself may have been able
to achieve… well, robots and humans differ, after all. Maybe NiseRitsu had a passion for language.

“Kuma-sensei, marry me!”

“Sure, not until you’re eighteen though.”

“Kuma-sensei, I want head pats too!”

“Right, right.”

“Kuma-sensei, Kataoka did really well this semester, so can you give her a princess carry? It’s been
her childhood dream or something.”

“Yeah, just stand there, I'll come over in a bit."

"He said yes! Go get her everyone!"

One of the most undeniably effective ways to encourage education was bribery. Even Asano would
approve of that.

It’s ironic, but it is what it is. So Nao had a sort of semesterly tradition, where as long as you Aced
your Literature, Kuma-sensei was yours for a day.

He usually just treated his whole class to a meal, but Kurahashi had meekly asked for a head pat
two years ago and the trend continued in similar levels of miniature affection. Nao had no idea why
they were so happy about it, but well, he agreed to anything. He had to serve.

“Woah,” Irina muttered outside, “someone’s popular.”

“He’s stealing my popularity…” Korosensei seethed, chewing on a pencil. It’s heatless, but he was
very whiny about it. “Unforgivable!”
“Well, he has known the kids longer than we,” Irina shrugged. “He’s like everyone’s favourite
uncle that has come to play.”

Karasuma sighed. “He’s such an enabler,” he muttered. Because seriously, some of those things
would be absolutely scandalous if taken seriously.

The next moment has Nao lifting Kataoka in a princess carry, and the entire class squealed in
amazement. The class vice-president herself was blushing madly, face buried in her hands.

“Woah! Kuma-sensei, are you actually strong?!”

“...Are you calling Kataoka-san fat?”

“NO! I know she’s as light as a feather!”

“Uhm, that would also be exaggerating. She’s Ikemegu after all.”

“But you know what I mean! I thought you couldn’t lift a table to save your life!”

Nao scrunched his face unpleasantly, offended. “I do exercise, you know,” he said. “My heart is
weak, not my arms or legs. I can’t run or climb like you guys, but I can do this much, at least.”

Everyone looked like they were trying to reassess their perception of the teacher.

“Speaking of which, those that fell more than ten spots, bring you and your depression to my office
after this,” Nao said, gently letting the girl down.

In the distance, Sugaya and Muramatsu whined in despair. Terasaka and Yoshida groaned, but Nao
made a point to look at Karma.

“That includes you, Senioritis.”

Karma rolled his eyes.

Nao looked over everyone again, because apparently the spoiling session wasn’t over. “So, what
else… huh. A lap pillow? Seriously?”

“Pleeeease!”

“Alright, alright.”

“Kuma-sensei, can I steal one of your jackets from the staff room?”

“Only for one day, okay?”

“YES! I got a one-day boyfriend shirt!”

Nao frowned at that. “Don’t call it that, I’m gonna get accused of pedophilia.”

“Raid the staff closet everyone!”

“Now wait, all of you!” Karasuma snapped as a good chunk of the mischief-makers filed out of the
room in excitement, “my stuff’s in there too!”

“Oh sweet, BONUS!”

"All of you, no!"

The first semester comes to an almost too pleasing end.

Class 3-E showed their stuff, and A class was soundly defeated for the most part. The closing
ceremony, which Nao promptly showed up for as their homeroom teacher, was surprisingly
awkward for the main campus students.

“What’s that, Terasaka?” Sugino asked, noticing the pink bear keychain hanging at the edge of the
delinquent’s phone. It was small and cute, and once Kurahashi noted it, she found it on
Muramatsu’s phone as well.

Karma had one too, and he let Kayano inspect it.

“Huh? Oh,” Terasaka looked at him, and turned away with a scoff. “Kuma-sensei’s punishment for
this semester.”

Sugaya lifted his phone, which had the same keychain on it. “Since it’s mostly the Terasaka
lineup, we have to put it on our phones for the whole summer break.”

“What? What sort of public shaming is this?” Isogai had to retort. “It’s cute, but for you guys, that's
just mean.”

“It’s cute,” Kataoka said, “leave it to Kuma-sensei to indirectly teach the delinquents a lesson on
toxic masculinity, for some reason.”

“I wouldn’t want one either,” Hazama muttered, “thank god my grades stayed.”

“He changes it up every year,” Nagisa blanched, “in my first year I had to carry a teddy bear
around school and leave it on my desk during class. It was... surprisingly okay with the other
students.”

“...Did the gender confusion get worse from there?”

“Oh. You think?”

“After midterms last year I had to wear a bear-eared headband,” Okuda said, shrivelling in her
trauma, “I mean, it was nice no one laughed at me.”

“Yeah, they just somehow know it’s Kuma-sensei’s walk of shame and they look at you with
empathy instead.”

“Maybe it’s the bear motif.”

“It is definitely the bear motif.”

Nakamura burst straight up into hysterics. “Seriously? You’re gonna have an adorable little bear on
the edge of your phone for the whole summer break? Oh god I’m never gonna stop calling you.”

“Don’t you dare, Nakamura!” Terasaka snapped.

“Same here,” Yada giggled, looking at Yoshida.

“Spare me already,” Yoshida groaned at his childhood friend. “My dad will never let me hear the
end of this, haven’t I suffered enough?”

“If it really was a problem, you guys would’ve removed it already,” Kimura said, making a very
fairy point. “I never understood why all of you just let him enforce it.”

“I don’t know Kimura,” Muramatsu said, “every time I try to remove it, this intense sense of
crushing guilt just eats me alive. I’m not brave enough to face his disappointed look either.”

“Let’s just say Kuma-sensei has startling convincing skills that he only shows behind closed
doors,” Karma muttered, actually looking pale at the memory.

And if someone managed to scare the delinquent gang plus Karma with just words, that’s gotta be
something impressive. As expected of the teacher that makes plenty of backdoor deals with Asano
Gakuho.

“Guess you five are the pink teddy gang now,” Nakamura teased.

“Oh shut up,” a few of them muttered back.

Kayano handed Karma’s phone back to him. “It’s cute. I don’t think this punishment would work
well on the girls, though.”

Nakamura chuckled. “The girls are usually a little different, like Okuda’s bear ears or Nagisa’s
tabletop plushie.”

“I’m a boy.”

“Special case.”

“There was a time I had to attend every class for the next month with a very gaudy bear-tipped
pencil,” Okano said. “I mean, it’s cute, but the amount of times the teacher looked at me! I was
gonna die.”

“Do you guys get to keep the bear after everything though?”

“Yes we do.”

“HEY! I’m not keeping it! I’m removing it once the time limit is up!”

“Oh really, Terasaka?”

Nao made his way to the Board Chairman’s office, ready for another miserable conversation full of
stress.

Well, just submit the end of term report and he could go. That was it, it shouldn’t be as stressful as
it always is.
He had his door on the knob when it twisted open loudly, and Gakushuu came storming out,
fuming to his fingertips. Upon spotting the teacher, the boy froze, the angry expression actually
faltering for a second.

Nao managed a smile.

“Hi there, Gakushuu-kun,” he greeted him, like the boy hadn’t just obviously been humiliated or
something. “Congrats on the Modern Lit results. I know you lost in the big picture, but it’s still
amazing. I’m really proud of you.”

He noted the way Gakushuu actually stopped there, eyes wide and jaw slightly open.

(Like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.)

He brought a hand up to rest on the boy’s head.

“I might not be teaching your class, but I did tutor you for the most part. So don’t forget you have
the Kuma-sensei privilege, too,” he reminded the boy. “Once you decide what you want from me,
just ring me up, okay?”

Gakushuu looked over, like he was shocked to hear that.

Nao chuckled at that. He’d never seen Gakushuu be so at a loss for words. Regardless, he entered
the principal’s office and closed the door behind him.
 a time of rest.
Chapter Notes

"It's a bird, it's a plane, wait what the hell, it's another outsider update. Is the author
sick? Or is the school year finally over and she's been set free?"

- Nao, rather ironically.

They rented out a whole damn beach.

Seriously, how rich are we?

"To be precise, the school handled the hotel and travel fees. The government has the beach and the
vicinity reserved for the rest of our trip."

"...Is this what our taxes are used for?"

"The world is going to be destroyed, Kunomasu. We can afford a beach for two days."

The kids were out playing, Korosensei was running around having fun-- Irina was sunbathing in
her very skimpy bikini, and Nao was stuck with Karasuma, getting all the paperwork and
procedures settled.

It's hard to be a teacher during summer vacation.

"If you're tired, go play with the kids," Karasuma jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the
sea. "I can handle the paperwork on my own."

Nao stared for a moment. "Is that your way of telling me to go away?"

"You're a sharp individual," he replied, dry as dust. "If you understand that much, I would prefer
you allow me to handle the rest."

Nao pouted. "Okay, mister responsible."

Karasuma looked ready to snap back with something along the lines of 'shut up and go play', so
Nao wisely picked up his room key and made his way back.

If the spicy government agent wanted to do all the hassling paperwork and procedural overseeing--
those were things all the advising teachers usually do together but obviously now only two of four
wanted to bother-- then he can do it.

Nao is more than glad to leave the independent masochist there to suffer alone.
Since they'd finally arrived and no longer needed to keep up appearances, he could finally be rid of
the suit. Hallelujah.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to rub out some of the gel as he plucked away his tie and
unbuttoned his dress shirt. Professionalism be damned, seriously.

(Seriously, how does Karasuma live? Does he only have suits in his closet?)

He sighed, looking out the window. This trip was an A-class privilege unexpectedly handed down
to E, so in this beautiful Fukumashima Resort Hotel, everyone had a room to themselves.

...Everyone except the teachers, that is. But it's still fine.

It's still a huge double suite that Nao has no idea what to do with.

It was meant to have only one female and two male teachers as advisors, so it was great they even
managed to get a room for the extra teacher to begin with, even if it was just upgrading one room
for it.

Irina had a private room for obvious reasons, so Nao had to share with Karasuma-- because neither
of the human males wanted to share with Korosensei, even for professionalism's sake.

It wasn't too bad.

There was a huge window, with a beautiful view and plenty of sunlight.

From here he could see the kids on shore and in the waters, each group on their own excursions
and enjoying as much as they could. Korosensei zipped around, never staying in a place for too
long.

Nao hummed. The sea breeze was cool and soothing against his bare skin-- he can't wait to get out
there and dip his feet in the waters. He can't swim, obviously, but he could at least splash a
little. And maybe...

The world spun.

...and maybe... huh? That's... weird.

He knew he was falling, but all he could do was brace against the window, holding onto the rails
as his knees gave in.

He collapsed harshly against the banister, barely catching his head on the edge of his arm instead
of the wood or the floor. He clung there, keeping himself as upright as he could manage-- waiting
for the world to come back into focus.

His head thrummed painfully with each beat of his heart.

Each slow, alarmingly slow beat of his heart.

He gripped the windowsill harder, and it took him a little more brainpower than he'd like to
command himself to take a deep breath.
One.

Two.

Three, and Four.

For a long, long while-- all he did there was breathe, listening to his own heart beat. Maybe it was
slow, maybe it picked up after a while-- he wasn't too sure.

He just made sure it was beating, and kept making sure.

His hand clenched against the wood, his lips pulled tight. He still didn't have strength in his legs,
and his head was empty. He pressed a free hand into his eyes, the pressure grounding him in place.

He swore under his breath, finally able to lift his head from the wall.

Suddenly the sun seemed much too bright., and the sea breeze felt sickeningly salty. But he can
deal with that-- just, just give him another moment to breathe, and he'll be up soon.

This dizziness will pass, and he'll be fine again.

Eventually, he managed to blink away the haziness. Looking around no longer came with a dull
throb in his head. He set his hands against the railings and picked himself back up.

"S--" he coughed, hand reaching up to clutch his shirt at his chest. He groaned, frustrated. "Shi- it,"
he spat out the words, stuttering pathetically. "Shit. Gods. You've got to be-- fucking kidding me...
shit."

It didn't hurt that much.

It was just-- it was just... scary, that's it.

Maybe he was actually lucky he didn't faint fully-- he was even lucky enough that this happened
when no one was around. It wasn't that bad. He expected this to happen-- Matsukawa warned him
about these.

Just-- just give him a minute and he'll be fine again.

Just a minute.

All things considered, resting now was a better idea than going out to play, so Nao stayed in his
room.
Dressed in comfortable clothing and drinking from a can of very sugary pop in his fridge, he
opened his laptop and tried to get the colour back into his skin.

"School Trip arc the second," he lay on his bed, laptop beside him on a pillow. "Uh, what
happened here again?"

His journal entry of 'stuff I remember from the show' was startlingly blank here, because selective
memory and all that bull.

Ah, that's right, he reached over lazily, typing in the words Hotel Infiltration underneath the
header. There was that time Nagisa crossdressed or something.

They had to go into a hotel and fight a few assassins or...

...shit.

The students were poisoned, right?

They solved the problem at the end as some sort of fraud, so there was nothing to worry about
other than the initial scare-- but that was exactly the problem.

(Did he literally let his students get knowingly poisoned? He has never felt more guilty in his damn
life.)

Where the hell was he when it happened? It would've been messy to change the events of the
future, yes-- but knowingly letting them be poisoned was just a terrible thing to do as a... as a, well,
human being.

(Ah, he was working with Karasuma, so he didn't drink anything at the entrance. Hopefully those
were the only drinks that were tampered with...)

He groaned, closing the laptop and leaning back, setting his hand over his eyes.

He was tired. Very tired.

The sugar was helping a little, but the exhaustion was set in his bones, like a long weight that came
right back down, dragging his steps and sagging his shoulders through. He really needed to get a
nap in.

It's summer, after all. The kids can handle a bit of alone time.

Karasuma knocked twice, then set his hand on the doorknob.

"That guy didn't even lock the door?" he said, incredulous. He made his way in, finally getting a
look at their shared room.

It was split down the middle, a bed on each side. There was even a small kitchenette and a sofa. He
sighed. He has about two hours to relax, then it'll be time to finish the rest of the preparations of
the assassination.

So for now...

"He's sleeping?!" he snapped at the sight of the other teacher.

Nao was on the bed, curled deeply in a mess of pillows and blankets. His papers, his laptop, and
even his phone was sprawled around him, but he was asleep with his hands on his stomach.

There was an unfinished can of carbonated orange juice on the nightstand.

Was this guy... working?

Karasuma sighed, reaching for the curtains and drawing them shut.

He's noticed many times over the year that this guy absolutely loved his afternoon naps, but he's
never really noticed that he loved working just as much. Birds of a feather flock together, huh?

Nao wasn't the most silent person when he was awake, what with walking flat footed and always
knocking into things and all-- but when asleep, he's jarringly silent. He didn't snore, didn't sleep
talk-- even his breaths were muted.

Karasuma sighed, taking off his tie and making his way back to the other side of the room.

"I kinda wish he snored at least a little, so we at least know he's still alive when he's sleeping," he
muttered half-heartedly.

Then he stopped walking.

Slowly, Karasuma looked back over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the teacher.

In a muted panic, Karasuma stomped over to the bed. He snatched up Nao's wrist without thinking-
- and stood in that position for a full three seconds.

Finally, he breathed out in relief.

"His heartbeat is normal..." he said to himself, as if that wasn't obvious and he really didn't need to
check.

But he knew.

He was in the military, after all-- he's met people with weak hearts. Not in the army itself, but he's
got experience dealing with people like this.
And he knew that one second they could be sleeping, and the next second they could be something
else. It was always really hard to tell.

Karasuma sighed for the who-knows-how-many-times-now that day.

He let go of Nao's hand, reaching for the blanket and making sure the man was properly covered.
Then he marched back to his own bed.

"Seriously, how deep of a sleeper is this guy?"

He didn't even rouse from that rough grabbing.

Karasuma massaged his temples, groaning through a headache. He looked at the clock-- right. A
little under two hours to relax.

...god, why is this his life?

(If he spent the rest of his break occasionally checking up on the man's pulse, maybe no one
needed to know that.)
 many some incurable things (in head, heart, and body.)

“Man, where have you been this whole day, Kuma-sensei?” Okano whined, setting her hands on
the teacher’s shoulders.

Nao chuckled, “sorry,” he said, “I fell asleep in my room and I just woke up.”

“Seriously? But it’s summer vacation!” Kurahashi said, like it was some sort of crime.

“It’s because it’s summer vacation,” Nao corrected her, “when else will I get undisturbed rest for
four hours straight?”

“At night sir, on a bed, preferably at least six to eight,” Yada responded in a monotone.

Nao swirled his drink in his glass for a moment before taking a contemplative sip. “I’d usually
agree, but the comment sections of some previous chapters apparently beg to differ. Haven’t you
heard, insomnia is in right now.”

“You don’t get to talk about what’s ‘in’ when you’re wearing that bandanna on your head, sir,”
Maehara walked over, having heard the tail end of the conversation. “Why is it bear-themed?”

Nao hummed. His tank top and unbuttoned hoodie combination was decent enough, but the brown
bear-patterned headband was just culture shock for everyone.

“I was too lazy to gel my hair, and I needed to be attentive so I couldn’t leave my bangs down,”
was his explanation. “So the headband.”

“But why a bear?!”

Isogai chuckled dryly, “Kuma-sensei, everything you own has a bear on it, huh.”

He cast Terasaka’s gang a look-- and sure enough, their phones still had the pink teddy bear
keychain on them.

Nao smiled at that. “Nah, those are different-- I bought them as a joke,” he shrugged, “everything I
own that has a bear on it,” he pointed at the headband, “I got them for Teacher’s Appreciation Day,
so I had to use them somehow.”

“Wow, you’re popular.”

“Don’t teachers usually get stationery or flowers?”

“Sometimes I wish I did,” Nao admitted, folding his hand under his chin as he reminisced
miserably, “I can only handle so many stuffed bears and love confessions a year before PTA
lodges complaints against me.”

“The terrifying Kuma-sensei strikes again.”

“The ikemen wars continue…”

“I kinda feel sorry for the Board Chairman and I didn’t think that was ever possible.”
Dinner was luxurious and served atop a cruise. The sun had set when Nao finally woke up, leaving
him nothing but unexpected wakenness and an empty feeling inside his chest from wasting a good
chunk of such a beautiful day just sleeping.

Same old, same old.

In the corner, Korosensei shed his charred-black skin, and the class simultaneously contemplated
his inherent stupidity.

“We’re gonna kill him after dinner,” Karma provided a splendid conversation starter. “Are you
gonna come watch too, Kuma-sensei?”

“That’s right,” Nakamura said, “we’re definitely succeeding this time-- so you really gotta watch.
You won’t wanna miss it.”

Nao faltered for a second before he smiled. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

His hesitation was not lost on a single one of the people looking at him-- and he hated that this
assassination classroom sharpened their senses for these things.

“What, Kuma-sensei?” Kurahashi pouts, clinging a little closer than naturally comfortable, but that
was her love language so Nao let it slide, “you don’t believe we can do it? I even talked to the
dolphins for this!” she whispered the last line in the best whisper she could manage, tip-toeing to
barely reach his ears.

As if she was grasping on a chance, Yada grabbed his other arm.

“We really worked hard on this one, Kuma-sensei!” she said, in a tone that was begging for his
positive validation. Nao honestly likened this to moments before his wallet gets stolen, but he’ll
give them the benefit of doubt.

“This is unhealthy behaviour, girls,” he said, calmly. “Please try not to follow Irina-sensei’s
examples to too much of a T, alright?”

And they whined in unison. “We almost got you, right?”

“Not at all.”

“Boo.”

They laughed it off, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment he felt from them. To the,
he didn’t believe they could do it-- and that hurt them.

Nao felt horrible for it, but he didn’t know how to fix that.

“Just do your best, all of you,” he says, knowing the words were drier than dust. He hoped that his
smile, at least, was genuine enough to ease it. “I know you’re all doing your best, and I’m always
proud of you guys.”

(I just don’t particularly care if you manage to kill Korosensei or not.)

(Because more so than your success, I just want these days to keep going.)

It was a cruel thing to think, when most of what they've got recently are achievements on the
assassination scale.

They were looking at different futures. It made sense they wouldn’t understand his thought
process.

It still hurt though-- more so in their direction than his.

The assassination ended in a short, breathtaking minute.

Or at least, Nao wasn’t sure if he took a breath between it. He was lost in the details-- from the
elaborate set up, to the various sequences that came fluidly, one after another-- so quickly you’d
miss one if you blinked.

Karasuma and Irina have their guns out-- they were ready to strike, in case the most crucial
moment failed and a new opening was created.

Nao watched from another two paces away, in awe.

It was one thing to know about it, another to see it, and yet another to experience it personally.

The wind sprayed cold and salty against his face. The shrill whistle of dolphins melded chaotically
within the neverending churn of water from the geysers, and the irritable clicks and pops of the BB
guns never sounded too far away.

Then the bright flash of light burst into the sky, and an explosion greater than anything engulfed
the skyline.

If his breath didn’t stop before, it definitely did right there.

Surging forth like a spill of great beams, Korosense’s body was encrusted in a golden light, rising
up into the sky for just a split second as multiple lengths of lightning.

And then, a shuddering boom.

His blood immediately ran cold-- and the succeeding gale from the eruption blew right through
him, nearly taking him off his feet.

“D-Did we get him?!”

The world seemed to blot out then.

All he could think about was a flash of white hot pain across his body-- but there was no such
agony. But he was petrified tere, unable to move, unable to think, unable to confirm if he was
breathing.

“Don’t let your guard down, he has regenerative powers!”

His legs could move, though. Though his head was full of haze, he realized he was around, like the
dark sky and the building as they returned were such fascinating sights to see.

E clenched around his shirt, going over his heart and reaching for just anywhere he knew his scars
(birthmarks) were, and he didn’t do anything.

He didn’t think anything.

He just didn’t know anything for those ten minutes until they got back into the Hotel.

The nausea from his pills combined with the sharp tangs of wet coughing eventually dragged him
out of his dissociative stupor.

He finds himself in his room, seated by a couch near the window with his pills and a glass of water
before him. He doesn’t know if he made it here, or if Karasuma deposited him here-- but it doesn’t
matter, does it?

He stood up and made his way back outside.

The students were gathered in the cafe area, around the tables and the walls, miserable.

“Something’s weird.”

Karasuma looks over. “Like the fact you forgot to take your medicine?”

Nao chuckled dryly, “other than that,” he said. Is that what just now seemed like to them?

He noticed his hand was clenched too tightly over his shirt-- and he let go, stepping forward to the
nearest table, where Maehara and Mimura were seated.

He set a hand on the boy’s shoulder-- “hey, Maehara…”

And he paused. The boy’s head was being propped up by his shaking arm against the table. He
looked over briefly at the call, but didn’t muster a response.

So Nao pulled his shoulders back-- he actually grunted at the force, thrown back easily against the
back of the chair-- and when Nao laid a hand on the boy’s forehead, he frowned deeply.

Nao reached over, and found a similar temperature on Mimura’s forehead.

“Fevers,” he told Karasuma, who jolted to attention. Korosensei-- Nao belatedly noticed the glass
ball in the plastic bag, wondering how he forgot about that thing for a while. “Both of them.
Karasuma-san, we need to-- Nakamura!”

He lunged over just in time to catch the girl before she’d fallen.

“Huh…?” she lay, arms limp, face flushed and scrunched up in pain. “That’s strange… I can’t…
get up-- Kuma-sensei?”

Then Okajima threw up blood, and all hell went loose.

When Karasuma asked, they learned there was no doctor on the island.

Nao swore under his breath.

“Everyone that doesn’t feel well, stay where you are!” Nao raised his voice, “Isogai, Kataoka, if
you’re able, take roll!”

They were. "Y- Yessir!"

This was no time to panic.

 and consider the many things.
Chapter Summary

“I personally keep a recorded list of currently renowned hitmen that I hear of. I gave it
to Ritsu.”

“You gave what to Ritsu?”

“Lovro filled up half of it so it’s legitimate to some degree.”

“Excuse me?”

Ten are incapacitated, two are staying behind-- which leaves fourteen heading up the hotel with
Karasuma. Isogai and Kataoka took roll, noting down who were infected and who weren’t.

Then Nao took over, and began noting down the various symptoms.

Even if this was going to just be a scary health bug in the end, they had to be monitored for other
reasons-- like the fact that a fever this high might leave lasting damage if left unchecked, and
Okajima’s blood loss is not looking great.

“It strikes me as odd that it’s so potent, but it’s not affecting you at all, Kuma-sensei,” Takebayashi
says.

Nao hummed at the observation. “And what does that mean, scientifically?”

“That…” Takebayashi took a moment, “it’s not contagious. At least not airborne, so it’s a drug that
was in our drinks, or our food.”

“And it was administered at a time and place where Kuma-sensei wouldn't be,” Okuda interrupted
them. “So it happened during the daytime, when you and Karasuma-sensei were doing all the legal
work.”

Because an immunocompromised person like Nao would've gotten a full force of this, whatever
this is, if he'd been struck. And the hotel staff aren't affected, so it was a method that was surefire
to only hit the kids.

Splendid observation, it’s not very complicated at all.

But Nao wasn't trying to solve the mystery here-- he was just trying to make them think as a
distraction, so they could exercise their minds in a logical direction around the issue and calm
themselves down.

“And it’s not any of the drinks inside the hotel rooms either,” Nao added.

“Daytime, a time when we all ate or drank together,” Fuwa appeared beside them, and Nao
involuntarily jumped. When did she get here?
Korosensei was in the center of the other table with Karasuma, and both were looking over. Some
of the students were scurrying about, getting changed and ready to go.

“But we were all split into groups then,” Okuda says.

Nao looked at the list. “Every team was hit, but the teams that are least affected are…” he
hummed, “Chiba’s group and Nagisa’s group.”

They took a moment.

“The sniper team!” Okuda realized.

“Nagisa, Kayano, and Karma were part of the group that went to scout out the underwater first,
right?” Nao said, “because Isogai and Kataoka had to take roll and settle room arrangements before
the rest of us.”

“So it’s in the first few hours of our arrival?” Karasuma finally stood up, contributing to the
conversation with his interest.

Then it finally clicked. “The welcome drinks!” Fuwa declared.

At that, Sugino bolted upward upright like a zombie waking up from a nightmare. “That guy?!” he
exclaimed. He then immediately fell back down, unconscious.

(Is he an idiot?)

Okuda quickly went over to check on him. He was fine.

“Describe him,” Karasuma said. “Ritsu might be able to identify the poisoner.”

“What-- from what?”

“It’s against government rules to stick my hands too far into the underworld, but I personally keep a
recorded list of currently renowned hitmen that I hear of. I gave it to Ritsu.”

“You gave what to Ritsu?” that’s Irina and Korosensei synchronizing.

“Lovro filled up half of it so it’s legitimate to some degree.”

“Excuse me?”

“Terasaka,” Nao said as the boy lingered around the lobby.

The rest of the students, particularly the ones that were most waterlogged-- went back to their
rooms to quickly change into something more breathable.

He doesn’t miss the way Terasaka flinched, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Nao
didn’t look over. “If your symptoms get worse, I want you to sit down and don’t stress our body
out. Understood?”

Terasaka took a moment. “I don’t have any symptoms,” he said.

Nao sighed, turning over. “I can tell, Terasaka,” he said, fixing a firm eye on the boy. “You either
promise me that, or you’re not going.”

“I am going whether your half-dead ass wants me to or not,” was Terasaka’s biting remark to that
order.

Anger flaring up, Nao dropped his pen, spinning back to grab Terasaka in one hard twist of his fist
in his collar. Then he tugged the boy forward, earning an undignified squawk when the delinquent
didn’t expect the sheer strength of the pull.

“If you don’t take this seriously, all of you are going to end up getting graves before your
fucking half dead teacher,” Nao hissed, tone threatening. “Understood?”

Terasaka swallowed nervously.

“U- Understood.”

Nao let go, and Terasaka staggered to his feet.

Seriously, you’d think the students would take this more seriously. Or maybe he’s just acting
tough-- but whatever. Nao sighed, setting down the paper on the table.

“I’ll listen to you, Kuma-sensei,” Terasaka spoke, his volume low in a way that was him
pretending to not be saying anything as he fixed his own collar, looking away. “But you’re a
hypocrite and I hope you know that.”

Pain flared out in Nao’s chest.

He smiled, raising a hand to pat him on the back.

“Do as I say, not as I do,” he told him. “All teachers, deep down, are hypocrites to some degree.
We’re-- at least, a lot of us-- are quite self-aware.”

Terasaka scoffed, barely faltering. “Well, you aren’t,” he said. “You worry more about us than you
worry about yourself, and you don’t expect any of us to do the opposite. I’ve always hated that
about you.”

Nao chewed on that.

Well, maybe he’s right.

People are three dimensional, after all. Nothing is ever the same with them, and their hearts change
every couple of moments.

He didn’t compose an answer for that.

Instead, he laughed bitterly.

Terasaka, unable to find an answer to that-- simply scowled in an emotionally conflicted manner--
and then turned away.
-

Nao doesn’t accompany them to the hotel.

It wouldn’t make sense for him to be there, after all. Irina and Karasuma would be more than
enough to help those incredibly competent little assassins make their way to the top.

He stays at the inn with Takebayashi and Okuda, monitoring everyone’s condition and making sure
no one conks out earlier than expected.

(He almost laughs at the incredulity of everything.)

(For once, Kuma-sensei isn’t the weakest link in the classroom.)

He breathes out, slowly-- and does what he needs to do.

This is not his time to do anything of worth, after all. He needs to stay on the sidelines and let his
students have their time to shine.

That’s his role as a character of this story.

“Sure glad it turned out alright in the end, huh?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah.”

After a very long night of running around, keeping everyone alive, and finally greeting the hotel
infiltration team back and receiving great news of the poison not being as lethal as they thought--
Nao sits by his bed, watching the sun rise from the window.

It took a long time to get everyone stable enough to return to their rooms and sleep it off normally,
so it was only about half an hour to daybreak when the teachers finally got a break.

“Hey Ritsu, could you show me that list Karasuma gave you?”

“EHhh?!” Korosensei, still orb-ified, squawked from his spot in Nao’s lap.

Nao and Ritsu hurriedly shushed him. In the distance, Karasuma turned over.

Oh damn, that guy’s definitely awake now. What a shame, let’s hope he goes back to sleep soon,
because he deserves it.

Even Karasuma needed a short nap at this point, so Nao offered to stay awake so the orb of
Octopus can be watched over.

He could easily have asked another government agent on standby to safekeep it until they were
ready to bury it in cement, but Karasuma decided to delay informing them of the situation out of
spite for their prior uselessness in handling the student hostage situation.

And well, Nao could respect that.

“I could, but may I ask why?” Ritsu chimed from Nao’s phone. A loading bar popped up on the
screen before her, indicating a progress of data download.

“Just to while some time away, I’m bored out of my mind here since I need to babysit an orb of
octopus,” Nao said, ignoring the offended whine from Korosensei. “I’m just a commoner, so it
won’t matter if I skim through a list of names, right? You can delete it once I’m done.”

Ritsu nods at that. Karasuma did tell her not to pass it around, but Nao should be fine, right? She’s
monitoring the spread of data, after all.

“B-But,” Korosensei spoke up in some attempt of a hushed tone, “wait. Kunomasu-sensei, this isn’t
a literature novel, you know? You shouldn’t just skim through dangerous information like this. In
the case where someone figures that you know this information, you may be at risk!”

“Wow, life-risking situations,” Nao deadpanned, unhesitantly opening the document and allowing
the list of names and prestige to flood his screen. “Don’t worry, I sort of eat that for breakfast.”

Almost immediately, a name catches his eye.

[Arcobaleno.]

He fell silent.

Oh, so the worlds are interconnected, he realized. He skimmed past it immediately, catching a few
more familiar names in that line, and pretended not to think about them.

Murderers, murderers, terrorists, poisoners, torturers, and juveniles.

“I never would have thought someone would find amusement in such a gruesome list,” Korosensei
says, exasperated.

“The most amusing parts of history have always been the sections listing enormous amounts of
casualties,” Nao says without even batting an eye. “And the most fascinating portions of a history
museum are the torture devices. Lists like these are par for the course-- I like reading them.”

Korosensei’s gaze stilled at that, horrified by the way the teacher held not even an ounce of
remorse by the morally bitter things he had just said.

It was colder than he had ever thought Nao could be.

Nao was always warm and kind to the students-- but deep down, he had a piece of cruelty, just like
everyone else. A part of them that was so wrong, they didn’t even understand that it was wrong.

Some might argue it wasn’t wrong-- that he had a point, but some things really should never be
said, if only for respect for fellow human lives. Or lost lives, in this case.

Humanity was certainly a strange thing, and Korosensei hated it sometimes.

But well.

Well, Korosensei can’t exactly judge, can he?

“Is Grip the one you guys faced in the hotel?”

“Yeah! He was quite a formidable one.”

They go back and forth like that, mustang about the little details in things, allowing Nao to sense a
faint touch of the underworld, if only to scrape the surface in curiosity.

It’s a dangerous thing to do-- many criminals fall into depravity due to exceeding nosiness just like
this-- but with Korosensei and Ritsu balancing the spread of information in a wordlessly tactical
manner, Nao was left stumped in a lot of them.

“There’s a strange information gap on quite a few of these...”

“Some things are too classified to remain in written form of any kind, so I’ve taken liberty to
encode them. Karasuma-sensei knows the decryption code.”

“So no hope of me ever understanding this. Got it.”

Nao’s eyes finally land on one name near the end of the list, and his finger stops for a moment too
long.

[Windy.]

Gender, unknown. An expert infiltrator, assassin, information broker. Known best for being able to
murder important, highly-secure political figures without fail.

There are rumours indicating they were a pair.

“Windy…” he whispers, the word not missing the notice of Ritsu and Korosensei. They don’t ask
any questions, though.

Karasuma didn’t write much about them-- just that they were dangerous, always seemed to be
everywhere, and no one knew their physique, or even their main active location.

There was only one constant-- they come and go with the wind, silent enough that sound detectors
can’t even find a trace of them.
(You take the ‘Kaze’’ from ‘wind’ and the ‘on’ from ‘sound’... no, the latter would be read as
‘ne’.)

(Put them together…)

(And you’ll get the name, ‘Kazane’.)

He chuckled at that. Maybe he’s just being speculative, and his guess is way off the mark-- but
that’s one hell of an obvious codename she’s chosen.

Not that it would matter. Her name no longer exists on any country’s record, after all-- her real
name may be as much of a code name as her false one could be.

Well, it doesn’t mean anything anymore.

She’s ignored his existence for a long time. It’s only polite that he should ignore her life as well.

He continued scrolling.

“Heh, there’s a lot of information brokers on this list,” he mused, pondering on the simple,
Japanese sounding name, ‘Yuu’. “Are they considered hitmen too? All they do is sell information,
so even governmental agents and detectives benefit from their work… I mean, that’s how it goes in
anime and manga, right?”

Ritsu doesn’t get to answer this one, because Karasuma snatches the phone right out of Nao’s hand
and immediately purges the file out of existence.

“In theory, their sales are illegal,” Karasuma said, ignoring the jaw-dropped look from Nao as
Ritsu immediately runs data burning procedures. “The opinions of the masses may differ, but
officially they are considered hitmen.”

The PE teachers eyes are narrowed in an exhausted way, his hair a hot mess, his clothes disheveled
and sweaty.

“Wow Karasuma-sensei, Irina-sensei would give you a hundred points right now.”

“Shut up, translucent pachinko ball.”

He’s obviously had a rough night and was barely functioning for the sake of it, but he was standing
straight, shoulders high and back straight. He had no intention of getting anymore rest today.

“So, any other questions?” Karasuma questioned in a way that sounded more like a threat than
anything else. He must really not have wanted Nao going through the list.

Nao shook his head, slightly terrified. He quite trusted Karasuma to not harm a weaker human
being, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

Karasuma took Korosensei back into his hands (to the indignant, terrified squawk of the noise glass
ball) and tossed Nao’s phone onto the bed.

The message was clear-- thank you, now go to bed and don’t do anything else you shouldn’t.

He shut the door behind him, and Nao chuckled nervously at that.

“Okay, good night I guess.”

 about love (I can't wield enough words to describe it.)
Chapter Summary

Nao and Irina become gossiping buddies, though their current raging topic is all about
a certain straight-laced bastard.

Nakamura realizes that she, along with the rest of the class, have inevitably fallen in
love with their extraterrestrial creature of a teacher. It'll take a while longer for the rest
of them to realize the same thing, though.

Chapter Notes

Ack, almost forgot to clarify-- the KHR mentions in the previous chapter is not
actually a sign of a transformation into a crossover-- think of it as a cameo/shoutout
instead. No elements of KHR will be utilized in this fic, and even if there are, it would
be names or locations that require no knowledge of the other fandom to understand.

“All that’s left on the schedule is dinner and debriefing, right?” Nao asked, taking a sip of the
suspiciously blue and carbonated drink on his table as he typed.

Looking on their itinerary, he frowned at the extra (scribbled) added event.

Test of courage? Oh you’ve got to be kidding.

And yet again, something more he’ll have to add to the trip report. Just great. That, and Nao had to
write two-- one omitting all notes of Korosensei for school records, and the other containing the
true course of events which will also be CC’ed to the government.

“Will you be joining us, Kunomasu-sensei?” Korosensei chirped up at the side, green and pink and
dressed in all sort of ancient-looking clothing, bundles of paper in his arms.

“Absolutely not.” Seriously, Korosensei was easier to handle when he was the size of a handball.
Nao set down his drink and turned back to his work. “I have two reports due the end of our trip, so
I’ve got no time to rest.”

“Awh,” Korosensei deflated.

Nao felt the incredible urge to remind this absolute bottlecap of an Octopus that, as acting
homeroom teacher (because Nao was just the homeroom in name,) the school trip records are to be
done by him and not Nao.

(Or a student, usually, but Class E is not trusted with the school’s official records, so the teachers
have to do it. Life is hard for both teacher and student in the End hierarchy, and Nao really hated it
sometimes.)
“Just come back and tell me when you’ve had your fun,” Nao told him.

“Roger that,” Korosensei saluted. Then with a whistle of wind, a box of pocky materialized on the
table, his drink refilled and furnished with a parasol and a new heart-shaped bendy straw. “Here are
some refreshments as well.”

Nao managed an exasperated, “you cannot be serious about using these for your test of courage,”
he managed, holding up the very specifically strawberry-flavoured pocky. “Our students aren’t
idiots, you know.”

Korosensei giggled.

“All is fine as long as we all have fun, right?”

Nao chortled at that. Things like these were what made Korosensei such a hard guy to hate,
honestly.

“In conclusion, it was an utterly embarrassing disaster,” he typed. “Just like the Unidentified
Mysterious Octopus himself and everything he objectively stands for.”

“It hasn’t happened yet! Don’t write that, HEY!”

For some reason, the kids were abnormally close to Irina on their way back. From the way
Korosensei glowed in an obnoxiously excited pink, Nao could guess what was happening here.

They gathered in the lobby while Nao sat outside, in the evening breeze with his laptop and his
carbonated blue drink.

Karasuma was still talking further down the beach with one of his subordinates, probably to
dismiss them for the rest of the trip after a job well supervised.

(That guy never stops working, does he…)

Nao watched the children as they talked fervently about Irina’s until-now nonexistent love life and
her apparent raging crush on Karasuma. They then begin to devise ways to fix the overwhelming
wave of sexual pheromones she exudes.

It’s hilarious how Karasuma can be just out of earshot and have absolutely no idea what’s going
on. Does he have selective hearing?

Nao finished up his report and slouched back on the chair with a groan. Staring at a computer for
long hours really gave him one hell of a radiation headache.

He’ll send it after proofreading tonight, he can’t do this anymore.

He leaned on just the hind legs as he stared into the lights, trying to get his gaze back into the focus
of the horizon.

(Is it just him, or he’s getting tired a lot easier lately? Maybe it’s the weather.)

“I’ll go take a nap or something,” he decided. He’s got time until dinner.

He hunched back forward, setting the chair back upright-- except, vertigo tilts and the world spin
just a little too far too many degrees in the wrong direction and--

“Eehh-- hyACK!”

The chair misaligned against gravity and, after a twirl on the edge of the leg, it finally decided it
wasn’t playing tabletop spinner with this guy and crumbled backward, bringing the teacher down
with it in a painful-looking crash.

“Ow…” The chair hit his ribs. “Okay, that hurt. I think I might have broken a rib.” Or two. Or
thirteen. How many ribs do people have again?

“Don’t be dramatic, it was barely hard enough an impact to cause that much damage,” Nao lifted
his head to see Irina. It seems like she was finally freed from the nosy students trying their best to
be wingmen.

Weakly, Nao pleaded. “Let me suffer in peace…”

Irina scowled at him in exasperation, “please, if ribs broke so easily, they wouldn’t be the defense
system of your vital organs.”

And Nao wouldn’t be capable of complaining in such fluency, but that's beside the point.

Shaking away the headache of being at a standing height again, Nao groaned. He definitely was
going to take periodical breaks from the computer in between from now on, deadlines be damned.

“You know, it really feels like you and Karasuma are the only teachers working on this trip,” Irina
said, arms folded and looking away, almost in guilt.

“You’re telling me,” Nao sighed. Bringing a smile to his face however, he chortled. “That’s fine,
though. There’s not much for me to do anyways. And Karasuma’s a workaholic-- you can’t tear
him away from work if you threatened him with a gun.”

Irina chuckled at that. “Why can I imagine that so clearly?”

Nao and Karasuma were the only two with legitimate teaching licenses, after all. Irina’s was forged
for convenience, and Korosensei evidently didn’t even have citizenship. Legally speaking, only
two of them were qualified to work up here.

(Honestly, what a disaster of a situation. Legal issues would be difficult after all this if the
government wasn’t directly involved with everything. Though at this rate, the government
themselves won’t be spared from the wrath of parents and the public.)
Irina noticed the dumb blue-looking drink.

It’s one of the strangely-named tropical cocktails the hotel bar offers, though with soda instead of
alcohol of some sort. And a parasol and a strange couple straw he thinks was part of a big pack a
certain octopus had been holding a moment ago…

“I thought you were the coffee addict?” Irina asked, shoulders slouched in the way that meant she
was just bringing up small talk to while away some time. “And Karasuma was the soda guy.”

For a guy as cool and stoic as he is, Karasuma sure liked his burgers and carbonated drinks.

(One could argue Karasuma just went for convenience and carbohydrates, but it’s an endearing
quirk nonetheless.)

“I drink coffee during class or in between, but I switch to carbonated drinks when I need the sugars
to get my brain working,” he explained. “Karasuma-san works the other way around. He drinks
coffee for all nighters, and soda every time else.”

Irina hummed, she wasn’t aware of that. When she looked away pointedly this time, her shoulders
bunched up a little, and her eyes glanced back a little, as if she was suddenly interested in the
conversation.

“You guys are like polar opposites, huh,” she said, thoughtlessly, Then, “is he like that in you
guys’ shared room, too?”

Oh?

Oh.

Oh this is adorable.

Nao did think it was strange that Irina struck a conversation with him and decided to keep it going-
- she hated him most of the time, after all-- so it took a bit, but he could tell that she was subtly
manipulating the conversation, in the guise of friendly chatter.

He smiled.

This was a nice way to have a break, too. Napping wasn’t always the solution.

“He’s such a stickler for being neat, I swear,” Nao muttered. “Can you believe he made his bed
every time he used it? And this morning I was reorganizing my luggage, so I had all my stuff out. I
swear when he walked in he looked like he was gonna lose it.”

Irina took a moment to picture it. Then she burst into laughter, setting herself on a chair adjacent to
him. Her lips twisting upward into a wholly mischievous grin, she leaned forward and spoke in
hushed tones.

“You know I just had this amazing idea. When we get back to the mountain…”

It’s incredibly childish of both of them to plot for pranks dedicated to their fellow coworker, but
Nao wasn’t about to stop her.

This was definitely the best interaction he’d had with her yet.

He fed every one of her blatant attempts to dig out some random fact about Karasuma, and listened
to her spiel in annoyance about the government agent-- though the slight flush in her cheeks
definitely proved that those were factors she adored as much as she found frustrating.

They spoke until the girls came over excitedly, helping Irina coordinate a set of evening wear that
they were sure would suit Karasuma’s tastes.

Nao didn’t get his afternoon nap, but that was fine.

This was much more fun, after all.

One day, Karasuma and Irina were going to fall in love, and Nao genuinely wished he would be
there to see it bloom into fruition.

Nakamura sought him out near the end of dinnertime, sitting by the veranda with only the
cacophony of the background and the sunset before them as company.

“Hey, Kuma-sensei,” she began, her voice missing her usual energy. “Did you already know we
wouldn’t succeed in killing Korosensei this time either?”

Ah, about the one-minute attempt.

(“What, Kuma-sensei? You don’t believe we can do it?”)

Nakamura was the sort that never let things offend her-- or so she made it seem. But she was
always the one who felt the ripples of opinions more so than others.

That’s why she spent so long of her life, crumbling under the opinions of others and trying so hard
to defy them-- only to finally, truthfully shatter under the pressure, trapped in a depth she couldn’t
imagine to swim out of on her own.

Nao decided it wasn’t wise to lie here.

“I knew you would fail,” he said. He didn’t miss the way she stiffened. “But maybe, I wanted you
guys to fail. I didn’t want that Octopus teacher to die here-- that’s what I honestly believed at the
time.”

Nakamura looked over.

“At the time?” she wondered, lifting her head a little, “then what about now?”

In response, Nao turned toward the cafeteria, where Korosensei was dodging knife strikes from
some students.

“I haven’t had this much fun in a very long time,” Nao told her. “Coming up here, meeting
Karasuma and Irina… even being able to talk to you like this,” he chortled. “It’s not something that
I thought I would appreciate as much as I do now.”

(He was sure that Nakamura felt the same.)

(All of the students in Class E felt the same way.)

While their hearts were stagnated by the pressures of the Dead End classroom, the aspect of fun
had shriveled up and died. Home wasn’t an escape, either-- in fact, life had only crescendoed in
severity since third year started.

Korosensei was like a light in their tunnel.

“And I just realized that… if Korosensei died here, all of this would end, too,” Nao told her. “It’s
so cliche it makes you cringe, doesn’t it?”

Nakamaru leaned back on her hands-- and took a moment to smile.

“It sure is,” she said, in a way that meant it wasn’t her true feelings at all.

(Cliche things like this just shouldn’t fly in society-- you want someone to reach in and help you,
but that’s just begging, like a child.)

(In real life, you have to climb out on your own, and survive in the harsh reality.)

(And yet, here was Korosensei, giving them everything they always wanted. It was like a miracle,
to suddenly have it all bestowed upon them so readily that they couldn’t believe this was actually
happening to them.)

(It’s so cliche, she could throw up.)

(And yet.)

Shrinking into herself, she spoke up in a voice that sounded a breath away from tears.

“And yet, it’s true, huh.”

Facing away from the cafeteria, with only the cacophony as their guide, teacher and student stared
listlessly into the sunset.

They exchanged no more words.

But they enjoyed each other's company in complete, comforting silence. The cheerful laughter
behind them was distant, as if separated by an invisible partition between worlds.
(Nakamura realizes this fact earlier than her peers.)

(As the school term went on and assassination becomes increasinly plausible, the looming
impossibility of the assassination began to change, just slightly.)

(It was no longer the fact that Korosensei was simply too fast and thus stood out of their league--
now, the reason was simply love.)

(This did not, however, mean that she was giving up on the assassination on a moral standpoint.
Out of respect, obligation and for all the same reasons that she was first motivated to do so, she still
wanted to kill him.)

(However, she realized that she would never be able to do it without the tears.)

“Did you have fun on the trip, Kunomasu-sensei?”

Korosensei inquired as they headed back to the mainland on the boat.

The breeze soaked into Nao's skin, kept his hair up in a wind-swept style-- and eased the chronic
ache in his chest, just a little.

“It was enjoyable,” he admitted, delighted by the view. “Could have been better, though.” We
could omit the entire poisoning fiasco, for one.

Korosensei chuckled.

“It was an eventful trip alright,” he said. “But that’s what makes it so memorable, am I wrong?”

And he was right.

Right now, Nao felt like his smile would never fade.
 an interval between two tides.
Chapter Summary

“Ah, that’s fine,” Nao sets a hand on the cardboard box-- without a sender's name,
without a return address-- just his name and nothing more. “I know who it’s from.”

The waves of a new semester is about to begin-- and with it, unresolved family
tensions begin to uproot and derail.

For who? Well, that's hard to say.

“Ah, Nao-kun, great timing. There’s a delivery for you, but there was no note of who sent it,” Ms
Sakurai said as Nao made his way back inside the house.

It’s barely been a day since Nao returned from Okinawa.

“Ah, that’s fine,” Nao sets a hand on the medium-sized cardboard box in the delivery. There really
wasn’t a return address-- just the first three letters of his name, and nothing else. “I know who it’s
from.”

He spends a moment finding the box cutter.

(Is it in his bathroom cabinet? Yep. He might be organized when it comes to work, but his general
cleanliness and lifestyle? He’s the messiest person around.)

When he opens it, he finds dried foods and snacks. There were also common beauty products like
cream and lotion, along with genuine coffee beans.

It’s not the first time he’s received this mysterious care package.

And despite everything, he couldn’t bear to just toss the whole thing away. Some of these things
looked like they were worth a ton of money, after all.

When his siblings first ran out on him, these packages came every two to three months. Even after
he got his life together, they didn’t stop coming. He got an allowance from Kazumasa each month,
so he reckoned this was from…

...yeah, her.

Maybe it was out of guilt, maybe this was just his ex-sister’s unconventional way of indirectly
telling him that she’s still pretending to care.

(But that’s not true. There’s no way this is from Kazane.)

(From her husband, perhaps?)

(The bastard caused the situation in the first place, after all. He would be the only one with the
connections to do so, and the only one with enough conscience to care.)

But Nao wasn’t going to think too much about it. It was always better that way.

Especially now that Nao was involved with the assassination classroom and all its parties of
interest, it was better to completely avoid having any note of their relation.

(He would have to pretend that this package was from a mysterious, unnamed sender, and simply
accept it without question.

But something was strange. These packages usually arrived when Ms Sakurai wasn’t home. Nao
was suspiciously sure that it was always planned that way.

“...well, maybe they were in a rush.”

Nao did vanish for a couple days to Okinawa, after all. Couldn’t blame them for not wanting to
wait if the timing didn’t work out right.

It’s not like he could call Kazane to ask if anything was wrong on her end.

(Not that he wanted to, either way.)

“The Class E Reeducation Department, huh,” Nao hummed at the thought. “Tell me again what
exactly this entails?”

This time in the office, Nao didn’t take the chair that was set out for him, In fact, he purposefully
stopped right before it, talking to the principal from there.

“You know, it’s the tradition for every few semesters,” Asano told him, arms folded under his chin
in his usual, unsettlingly demure way. “Any Class E student scoring within the top fifty is
permitted to re-enter the main campus, if you recall.”

He thinks he remembers this. Barely.

It’s a minor plot point of the story, so minor it was omitted from the anime altogether and was
hidden in the dredges of some OVAs most people don’t notice exist.

It’s a little early (the second semester hasn’t started yet,) but that’s to be expected because he’s a
teacher with privileges. Those two points are not mutually exclusive, he swears.

“I already have a student in mind to propose as the Chairman of the new student body,” Asano
suggested with a smile, as if he wasn’t literally organizing Hitler Youth, “and there’s no one better
to become acting advisor aside from you, Kunomasu-sensei. You are already performing a fraction
of your duties, after all.”

(So the biweekly activity report containing the supervision of Class E’s grade level is part of the
reeducation process, huh. Is that what he's calling it?)

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Asano’s voice lowers slightly, his eyes narrowing into a stern frown,
“your mission up there, as my faculty, is to set their education secondary to the assassination, and
report to me if any large changes occurred so I may adapt. I trust you have not forgotten that.”

(Ah, there was that too.)

Nao looked away, “I am not particularly doing anything to increasingly aid their education,” a
blatant lie, “but I am certainly encouraging them to put their time into other things.”

Like story writing, which indirectly affects their grades in a positive regard-- but Nao isn’t going to
tell him that.

Plus, assassination was sort of prominent compared to studies up there. It’s just that they switch
gears fluidly according to their situation, playing both roles perfectly whether he did anything or
not.

(As apparent Head of the Class E Reeducation Department, Nao is doing exactly 100% and 0% of
his work at the same time. He’ll call that an achievement.)

“Gakushuu-kun got better grades than Kanzaki-san, didn’t he? I gave Class A a clear edge in my
subject, and I’ve given you all the information you sought for, which allowed you to lift the
syllabus to match,” Nao looked over with a slight smile.

He paused for a moment, a wisp of rascality rising in his chest as he chose his next words.

“Perhaps it’s simply a difference in educational methods that affected the outcome.”

Something whipped past his face.

A projectile, shooting forward at a speed he couldn’t see or react to-- coming to a shattering stop
when it crashed against the door behind him.

Slowly, he turns around to see the remains of a broken mug on the floor.

(Did he just...?)

There’s nothing he can do about the way his chest spikes painfully, trying to recover from the
moment of horror. Well, that was the natural reaction. He’s surprised he managed to hold off the
startled yelp that almost escaped his throat.

(Seriously, Asano-san, this is why your wife left and your son hates you.)

Nao’s smile was pulled tight as he turned back to the Board Chairman. He pretended he didn't just
almost die and obediently stood there, waiting for the Chairman's next words.

(Yeah, that was dumb. He is not going to do that again.)

“I will overlook the insinuations of your previous comment,” Asano bestowed his mercy.
“Nevertheless-- let us return to the issue at hand. The new Committee will fully be implemented,
with proper plans of managing the students of Class E into a better education lifestyle.”

Right, back here.

In the guise of a student body that ‘guides’ and ‘re-educates’ Class E, Asano can justify their
skyrocketing improvement in grades, and even promote the efforts of the committee as the sole
reason behind it.

Even if everyone in Class E inevitably become successful students, they can pin all that effort on
the Class E Reeducation Committee, and the ensuing hierarchy will adjust.

It can also be generously emphasized during scouting efforts for high school, which is honestly a
plus despite everything. Dishonest or not, extra credit was certainly appreciated no matter what.

"I do commend the idea," Nao will admit that much, "but if you plan to use a 'Student from Class E
who returned to main campus with good grades' as the President of this committee I'm afraid it
might be difficult."

“Oh? And why would that be so?”

Nao rested his weight on one leg, setting his hands on the chair before him. “I don’t believe any of
the students would be willing to return to the main campus at this point,” he said. “Even if they do,
it’s likely they would not approve of this.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“You are implying they would defy me?” Asano asked. “Defy the expectations of society, of their
parents… for that decrepit satellite classroom?”

He spoke out incredulously, as if making a point to show Nao how ridiculous that sounded. This
was a realistic world, after all-- there was no way someone would willingly stay in the rock bottom
when they had finally been given a spider’s thread.

It may be more comfortable while they’re together, but once time goes by and high school
separates them-- real life would hit like a truck, and they would regret not aiming for an easier road
to a good future.

(That would certainly be the case if Korosensei wasn’t so unrealistically perfect.)

“What would I know,” Nao straightened, a hand clenched over his heart. His smile strained a little.
“Call it a literature teacher that’s invested too much emotional effort into a script, I might be
completely looking in the wrong direction and I wouldn’t know until I get my test results back.”

Asano didn’t respond to the words.

He simply gave a meaningless chuckle, and waved a hand in dismissal.

“I believe we will receive our answers during assembly tomorrow, then,” he said, confidence in
every word as he spoke. “I won’t take more of your time, Kunomasu-sensei. You may leave.”

Nao avoided the broken mug as he went through the door, closed it behind him-- and then found
the wall, letting his head droop heavily against it.

(Being put in a situation of fear like that really makes his heart ache. Literally, that is.)

He took a breath, not too deeply though, that would hurt. He kept his hand clenched over his chest-
- and stayed there, for a long moment.

If he breathed correctly for a bit longer, maybe he wouldn’t cough blood.

(Yeah, talking to Asano about ideals is terrible for his physical constitution. Let’s at least do that
when there’s nothing with projectile potential within arm’s reach of him next time.)

“Kuma-sensei?”

Nao immediately stood straight.

“Gakushuu-kun,” he addressed. The student is wearing his uniform, for some reason, “it’s still
summer vacation, so what brings you here?”

Gakushuu had come forward, looking a little worried.

“Just to study in the library, but that doesn’t matter,” he says, like a dismissive excuse. Evidently
he did not miss the teacher’s hunched form, and definitely isn’t missing the pale, sickly look on his
face. “Me aside. Are you feeling alright, sensei? Should I call a medic?”

Nao flustered, “no, no, I’m fine,” he insisted.

Seriously, he should know better than to let his guard down like this. It’s always such a pain to be
fussed over, really.

He set a hand on Gakushuu’s head. The boy scowled at that, slapping it away immediately.

“The Board Chairman didn’t do anything, did he?” Gakushuu asked, his eyes narrowed
dangerously, and his voice strangely cold.

(Well, aside from chucking a mug at me? No.)

Nao didn't word his thoughts, but his moment of silence was apparently clear enough of an answer
for Gakushuu.

Gakushuu turned sharply toward the Board Chairman’s office, to which Nao had to hurriedly hold
him back, “wait wait! What are you going to do?”

“I know how to handle him in his fits. If you tell him it’s in light of your health, he’ll watch himself
from now on,” Gakushuu said, completely serious. Then, with a sterner voice, “you’re too much of
an enabler to tell him that yourself, aren’t you?”

Nao wanted to protest, but then he realized Gakushuu was right.

He resents the way it’s phrased, though.

“Don’t trouble the Board Chairman, Gakushuu-kun,” Nao bargained, because he wasn’t going to
put him in danger for this, “he’s in a mood anyways. And I don’t want you to step on or touch the
broken ceramic on the way in.”

A pause.

“The broken what?!”

Oh crap.

“Right, Gakushuu-kun!” Nao immediately feigned an air of immense cheer, “there’s a festival at
the station today. How about we go together? It’s the last day of summer vacation, after all-- I’ll
treat you to anything you want, as your Kuma-sensei favour.”

“Do not change the subject, Kuma-sensei! I know what I heard!”

“Have no fear. All is done in the will of the Reaper.”

In the misty, barren alleys of a certain slum, a silent gun fires.

There was no way Lovro could have dodged it-- he had only begun to register the pain, but the
blood had already spread through his coat, and life liquid burst from the wound in a pressure
accelerated by his own heartbeat.

Thick, heeled footsteps of business shoes-- that was all he heard as the Reaper walked away.

Lovro could not lift his head to see the face of his assassin-- he could only lay, accepting his fate
with miserable frustration.

A breath later, the Reaper was simply gone with the mist.
Lovro thought he was going to die there-- bleeding out, cursed by his own complacency. An
assassin only loses when he lets his guard down, after all-- this was his undeniable defeat, decided
in seconds.

“Awh, I’m a little late, aren’t I?”

There was the voice of a woman, and if Lovro wasn’t losing consciousness, he may have shown a
little more surprise.

“Heyy,” like a distant little mock-holler, the woman called out to him. “You alive there, Mister
Lovro Brovski? I know you’re dying, but if you could show any sign?”

His eyes closed, and he heard nothing more.

“Ahh, what a pain,” the woman whines. Straightening in her posture, she ran a hand through her
hair-- a shade of brown, light as sand-- and hummed. "Wait there a minute, I'll see if I can get a
healer round the block."

And then, she was gone.

Unlike the Reaper however, she came and went with no sound in her footsteps. She wandered in
her steps, light and soundless as part of the cacophony.

(Like the wind.)

 a gladiolus by the window.
Chapter Summary

- (gladiolus: of integrity, faith, and strength.)

It's hard to go on with life, but Nao walks on anyways.

Takebayashi learns explosives, the kids make a giant pudding and learn parkour, and
other plot-related things that happen but don't show up in this chapter because Nao
isn't looking that way.

"What do you mean, I'm supposed to get involved?" Nao groans, tossing the script
aside, "if you wanted an OC that's more involved, you should've hired someone else.
I'm busy being a depressed fuck."

When Takebayashi shattered the glass trophy on stage, denying the propaganda of Asano’s regime
and boldly declaring his external fuck-you to the crowd-- Nao couldn’t help but chuckle dryly.

The conversation with Asano after this was going to be scary.

(But well… it’s worth it.)

Probably.

“My life flashed before my eyes like three separate times,” Nao buried his face into his hands the
moment he reached the E-class building and entered the staffroom. “And we only spoke for about
five minutes.”

Without prompting, Karasuma stood up to make him a cup of coffee.

“Kuma-sensei’s alive!” Okajima, with the ever-masterful peripheral vision, spots him by the
shadows and immediately stuck his head out the classroom door to locate him.

“Oh, thank god!”

“Someone, get a fluffy, huggable object!”

“Here you go.”

“No Karma, Nagisa doesn’t count!”

“And don’t grab Kayano either!”

(I swear I seriously was gonna cry, Nao doesn’t say. He lets me mess around when texting and
doing reports, but in person he really freaks me out.)
He’s pushed into the couch, and suddenly Korosensei is there-- “I went to England to get you some
cake! Thanks for all your efforts, really!”

The squishy shoulder massage, the obnoxious pampering, and the extra shawl really wasn’t
necessary, but when everyone crowded around him, telling him stories about their day thus far-- it
just made him feel so warm inside.

Takebayashi sat there, on his knees.

“I’m really sorry, Kuma-sensei,” he said, “I really wanted to cause as little trouble as I could to
anyone but myself, but I couldn’t come up with a way to spare you the trouble.”

Nao simply chuckled warmly at that, “of course it’s fine, Takebayashi. After all-- there’s not much
of a point to me being up here if I don’t at least divert a little of Principal Asano’s ire from you
guys, right?”

Nao is weak, and he’s not the smartest guy on the block either.

But if he’s able to become even a fragile paper wall between Class E and Asano Gakuho-- he
would be more than happy to do it, over and over again.

“Enough about me,” he quickly changed the subject, moving the ice pack away from his head.
“Wasn’t that trophy made of Lucite? It’s crazy that you could break it with a wooden dagger.”

“Yeah, that!”

“Right. Takebayashi, that was mad. No seriously, how??”

“That’s simple,” Karma suggested nonchalantly, “just take the thing, imagine Terasaka’s face, and-
-”

“Are you picking a fight, Karma?!”

Ms Sakurai left a vase of flowers by his window.

That wasn’t uncommon at all-- as late as Nao’s hours sometimes dragged on, this was how Ms
Sakurai cheerfully kept her foster son updated about her day.

“A purple gladiolus, huh,” Nao considered it.

There was strength, violence and perseverance. The flower of gladiators, after all, was something
wonderfully powerful to be in the presence of. Then, the colour. Purple was a mark of nobility and
mystique across the board-- did Ms Sakurai find a strange visitor today, he wonders.

“An elegant warrior… yeah, that sounds nice,” it’s poetic, too.

A lover of literature as he was, he couldn’t simply leave the flower to sit and wilt. He appreciated
it very much-- the flowers were always something that warmed him, distracted him, and calmed
him.

He sat down, and watched it in the moonlight.

An indication of strength and perseverance… beautiful, yet fleeting and fragile.

“You’re kinda like me,” he snorted at his own words as soon as they left his lips. “Nah, that was
cringy.” So he’s not going to say it again.

He can’t make the flowers stay beautiful forever, but he can at least pen down a cadence of their
subtle grace on a piece of paper, immortalizing it as a work of prose.

Flowers are incredible living things.

No matter where they come from or where they end up in their growth-- they always make the
most of what little time they have, blooming beautifully if only to make someone or something
smile.

(“Are you going to fight until the end, too?”)

“I’m trying, I promise.”

“You spent the night in school again, Kuma-sensei?”

Nao woke up to Isogai and Kataoka, both in their jerseys. He’s on the staffroom couch, a shawl
around his stomach, probably left by Korosensei.

Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure what he had been doing yesterday, after his class ended. He’s not
quite sure when he decided to sleep.

(Did he have his class? He’s not quite sure anymore.)

“Well, I didn’t feel like heading down the mountain” he yawned, not quite getting up yet. He laid a
hand over his eyes, “you guys are early.”
Ugh, he didn’t feel like working today.

Not in a joking, I’m-lazy sort of way-- but honest, bone-sagging exhaustion took his shoulders, and
his limbs dragged against his joints, protesting every movement.

He leaned against the side of the couch, looking over the window to see the rest of the students
gathered in the courtyard. Korosensei wore something that oddly resembled a police uniform, but
one couldn’t be too sure in the distance.

“Korosensei said we’re playing cops and robbers, apparently,” Kataoka explained.

Nao hummed. If they moved Physical Education up to homeroom, then that would mean… he
didn’t feel like thinking. But either way, it’s probably late into the morning at this point. “Looks
like I overslept, huh?”

Isogai chuckled warmly at that. “That’s perfectly fine, sensei. We don’t mind.”

You really should.

“Go out there and have fun,” he told them.

He just wanted to go back to sleep. He wasn’t particularly tired-- he just didn’t feel up to doing
anything today?

(Strange. Is he getting sick? But his forehead’s cold, it’s not a fever.)

Isogai and Kataoka leave, the former brewing up the coffee machine for him as a reminder to get
up-- and Nao laid himself back down.

He reached toward his own elbows, covered by the long sleeves of his button-up. Pressing into his
arms made the hidden scars hurt just a little, but it distracts him enough to forget the cacophony
outside.

Out there, the children were having fun. They were getting better at their free-running lessons,
improving each day.

Nao leaned into the couch and sighed.

He stayed there for a long time, lost in his thoughts. The sounds outside faded in and out of his
ears, never truly registering.

He stayed there, and simply existed for a moment that lasted an eternity.

He managed to get up and function after that, but his coffee was cold and he couldn’t quite get into
the flow of the day anymore.
“Your class is next, Kunomasu,” Karasuma said as he walked in, a towel around his next form the
long run of the unnecessarily extensive game of cops and robbers. “Were you still asleep?”

Immediately, expertly-- Nao brought a perfect smile onto his face.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,.”

Holding the mug of coffee in his palms, letting the cold rim of the mug remind him of how much
time he’s wasted-- Nao took one step after another.

He shouldn’t have to remind himself of how to breathe, how to walk, how to proceed.

(He had to function.)

(That was the bare minimum that was required of him, as a teacher and a working member of
society as a whole.)

He’s got enough physical issues to worry about. No time for mental health breaks, too.

“So you guys hid out in the pool for the last minute, huh…”

Nao listened intently as they spoke of their literal last-minute ingenuity in winning their game of
cops and robbers.

“Oh, Kayano-san didn’t enter the water?” Nao pointed out.

Kayano chuckled nervously, “well, I’m not good at swimming, or even holding my breath,” she
fumbled in a show of humility. “Plus, it’ll be tough to get my clothes dry before school ends.”

Nao simply nodded.

It was strange how obvious yet incredibly subtle these hints were once you knew what was hiding
under her neck.

They were headed down the mountain now. Yada and Kurahashi had Karasuma by the arm,
because according to Korosensei’s unsolicited bet, he was now supposed to foot the bill to the next
cake shop they found.

(Nao gave him a pitiful look, then signed an offer to foot half the bill.)

(Karasuma miserably signed back in gratitude.)

Having a little class field trip like this to a cafe wasn’t uncommon, and Nao adored that. Where
else would you find a scene like this, in a school as education-focused as this one? The
impossibility was the most endearing part of it.
“Hey, Kuma-sensei, was that sign language?” Sugino pointed out, imitating part of the overhead
conversation between the two teachers, “it kinda looks like the hand signs we use in training.”

(They have secret code signs? And Karasuma didn't tell me, the language teacher?)

(Incredulous! I have a thesis regarding sign language, mister government agent!)

“Field signs are usually adapted from, or a mixture of sign language,” Nao explained. Then, a
moment. “I don’t think any of you want me to get going on language lectures right now.”

Horrified, Nakamura realized something. “Hold on, Kuma-sensei, how many languages are you
fluent in?”

Pause.

“He’s not answering us!” Nakamura gawked.

“You never did tell us your university qualifications,” Kanzaki said, “I would like to know, as
reference for what I might consider pursuing in the future.”

“I mean, you guys will make a big deal out of it…” Nao mourned his barely-intact sense of
humility that his students were going to tear apart today.

“That’s fine, you are a big deal, Kuma-sensei!” Okano whined, latching onto his arm. Then in a
show of endearing childishness that would draw a thumbs up from Irina, she made a fuss. “Tell us,
tell us!”

“Yeah, tell us!”

“And tell us your credit card details while you’re at it.”

Nao sighed, “alright, alright-- wait, no!” he snapped, “Karma, you cheeky brat! Watch me make
you wear bear ears for the whole next semester, I swear!”

“That’s never happening, cause my grades are awesome.”

“Karma, maybe you need a lesson in humility…”

“Oh, you made Kuma-sensei mad. Everyone, run!”

When he looked up, everyone was smiling. Laughter spilled through the classroom, in an
ephemeral, deceptive sort of joy.

This classroom is flawed, and its doom is only a matter of time.

And yet, it was great.

It’s inevitable that this classroom would end in tears-- and yet, Nao couldn’t help but find himself
forgetting every once in a while.
It feels like a waste of time, a needless use of an already-short lifetime.

That guilt will perhaps never stop crushing him, and one day, it will consume him completely.
Maybe this darkness in his mind will swallow him first, or perhaps, he’ll manage to trudge down
the road long enough to hear his heart stop beating.

(For now, however… it isn’t a crime to be here, wasting his time.)

For Nao and Korosensei both, they will one day have to look back upon their life, and wonder if
the air they struggled so hard to breathe was worth the mark they left behind.

His mind drifted to the purple flower by his window. Neither Nao nor the gladiolus can do much in
the entirety of their lives, but they're still blooming beautifully, doing something.

(We’re both doing our best, huh?)

He took one step after the next, and walked forward.

There’s no time to look back.

 he's the middleman, don't cut him out.
Chapter Summary

Nao continues to be a buffer to all scandals, troubles and legal concerns the principal
has to deal with in regard to 3-E.

His work is not fun, but that's what his trash texts to Asano are for.

Chapter Notes

Do you know what's coming? Codenames time is coming! so here I'm asking-- what
are yall's suggestions on Kuma-sensei's codename? No guarantees I'll use any specific
suggestion, of course. Can't please everyone, unfortunately.

But I'd appreciate to hear you guys' opinions on it! :)

To: Me

From: Asano-san

Investigate this.

Image27.jpg

It's a picture of the very same news article the students are currently making a whole fuss about--
rumours of a notorious yellow-headed, tentacle-ridden, perverted underwear thief.

"Nah, that's too many adjectives," he muttered, frowning, "what was the journalist thinking? That's
a terrible sentence. Were the editors blind? How did this get past the drafting stage?"

...is probably not the investigation Asano wants, but he'll send it as a joke.

(Quickly followed up by the actual explanation, of course.)

He's in the midst of choosing between two of the more obnoxious-looking kaomoji on his
keyboard when he looked up to see Karasuma scowling at him.

"I'm surprised you can still send texts like those when he terrified you so much," the government
agent points out, evidently displeased when Nao only squeaks in surprise, immediately removing
his phone from sight so Karasuma couldn't look again.
His point still stood however.

Nao recomposed himself, clearing his throat. "It's a different matter when I don't have to actually
face him," he said. "It's hard to express tone in text, after all. Even if he says something scary, I can
pretend the tone did not come across well and Asano will awkwardly have to explain himself. That
is fun."

"That is mental torment," Irina's reply was instantaneous. Nao had no idea she was even in the
room. "Imagine how many times that was pulled on me when I tried to get out of work from
Lovro-sensei."

Nao stared at her in bewilderment "Did you try to flirt or something?"

Karasuma cleared his throat, "as professional as the Board Chairman is, I can't imagine that
working on him often. Or at all."

To that, Nao chortled nervously. "Yeah..." he admitted, "Sometimes he just tells me to contact him
again when I'm significantly more lucid."

Which is honestly just corporate tongue for 'if you don't want to lose your head (not your job, no,)
you should apologize right now so we can get back on track'.

"So why are you still messing around with your texts with him?" Karasuma groaned.

Nao looked away with a pout, "oh, mind yet own business."

Irina signed something inappropriate from her seat, and Nao's face immediately heated up. He got
up, sputtering as he yelled something incomprehensible that was probably a warning about
academic misconduct, but Irina was always like that anyways so-- agh.

Karasuma turned away, closing his eyes in annoyance. "You better not teach that to the kids," he
warned, "we might get PTA called on us."

"If we were getting any of that, Ms Jelavic wouldn't even be here have you seen her," Nao sat down
in despair, "she's a walking NSFW warning."

"Oh come out, my cleavage isn't that daunting and my skirt is just barely in permissible territory,
mind you," Irina retorted. "I can still pass as a teacher without suspicions that I'm just cosplaying,
you know."

"Please don't call it that."

"Speaking of barely legal things..." Karasuma decided he'd had enough of this nonsensical
conversation that didn't seem to have a point, and turned to Nao. "Can we leave you to divert the
Board Chairman's attention from the octopus situation until it is solved?"

Ah.

"Speaking of that situation..." Nao looked toward Korosensei's desk.

He pulled open Korosensei's drawers, revealing an assortment of loudly-coloured lingerie tucked
inconspicuously between books and papers.

Irina's brows furrowed. "Those are some of mine that I keep in the staff closet," she said, irritated.
"I know the octopus peeks into it sometimes, but he's never taken any of them out before."

Even Korosensei had morals about pornography, after all. He appreciated some Irina cleavage any
day, but he would never intrude on the bathrooms and changing rooms.

Okajima and some of the other boys may have peeping endeavours into girl's changing rooms
sometimes, (especially on school trips,) but the whole point of it was that they wouldn't succeed,
whether it be delivered via Kataoka bitchslap or some oneshot gag.

In contrast to that, Korosensei, the Mach 20 superbeast who could do anything, could definitely get
away with plenty of his problematic voyeuristic habits-- which is exactly why he doesn't take them
too far. He's responsible, thanks very much.

So leaving so many sets of lingerie right out in the open, stealing underwear and harassing women
to a genuine, serial degree-- that's something he would never do.

Nao gestured at them, as if he was proving a statement. "I'm guessing the kids are in for a mildly
dangerous adventure soon."

"Adventure, you say," Irina rolled her eyes, "whoever would go so far just to catch the attention of
the octopus better have some actually worthwhile attempt."

Nao chuckled, "in a way, it's the same thing as the psychological warfare trick the student did back
in Okinawa, isn't it?"

Karasuma's shoulders sagged. "More overtime for me, huh..."

To: Asano-san

From: Me

camera_class28.jpg

Transfer student (alien)

Has been successfully captured.

\(● ﹏☉)/

To: Me
 From: Asano-san

...is that the one that was a

Genetically modified soldier?

To: Asano-san

From: Me

Achievement unlocked!

+1 Problem child acquired.

Requesting official registration of

Child's updated status in school.

Horibe_Itona(1).doc

ヾ|*ﾟωﾟ|ゞ Leavin' that to u!

To: Me

From: Asano-san

Does the government not

Take charge of his wellbeing?

To: Asano-san

From: Me

⊂((° x。))⊃ error 404

Government not found.

pls try again after

Moon is fixed...? (-﹏-。)

-
"With all due respect, Kuma-sensei," came Gakushuu's voice through the phone, "your texts with
my father activate my flight or fight responses and they haunt me as my sleep paralysis demons.
Please stop."

When Nao heard that, he laughed heartily.

Second Semester:

Lovro -- ? (Grim Reaper? Current whereabouts unknown.)

Takebayashi -- ✔️ (Still don't know how he broke the trophy...)

Korosensei scandal -- ✔️ (Itona appearance #3)

Itona joins the class -- ✔️ (fucking finally? (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻-┻ )

Sports Festival (Pole topping?) --

"Here, your new school ID."

Horibe Itona had only barely gotten used to the new school environment.

Most of the boys had warmed up to him after their hilarious escapade of trying to build a tank
yesterday (the event which Nao simply watched from his office and wondered if it could be used as
a drink caddy,) so all was going well.

But Nao and Itona have not spoken yet.

So when the teacher casually walked in during self study simply to deposit a clean, pristine card on
Itona's desk-- the entire classroom recoiled.

Reformed Itona or not, they all knew what he was going to say about Nao.

"Oh, you're the weakling teacher, aren't you?"

A classwide facefault occurred. Oh Itona, you have quite a ways to go before you're back to the
conversation standards of a normal human being...

"I'm Kunomasu, the Modern Lit teacher," Nao introduced himself, undeterred by his impolite
nature. "Nice to meet you, Horibe-kun."
Itona blinked in acknowledgement, taking the card into his hands.

"Understood," he simply said.

Beside him, Yoshida leaned over to look, "you mean the government didn't give you one already?"

Terasaka gawked, "even the box of bolts has one, but you don't?"

Of course they didn't. Itona was sent to succeed, after all. So at the time of their entrance, an
exchange student certification with 'home-schooled' as their apparent previous affiliation was
enough for that.

"Mine was only provided to me the week before the first semester finals," Ritsu says, turning to
them. She showed off a digitally structured imitation of her card as well.

Of course, Nao settled that matter as well. But mainly for Nise-Ritsu, to be honest.

Unlike Itona, Ritsu didn't need any papers aside from a verbal notice toward the principal and a
technical registration as a student. The government could care less about legal procedures aside
from the bare minimum-- what are they going to do, fight for the education rights of an AI? It was
easier for everyone to close an eye on it.

However, they needed to get Nise-Ritsu approved to take the exams, so Nao called in a favour with
the principal and got her a proper ID with full details to make her properly passable as an
apparently human student.

"The government doesn't really care what their special agents do after they're overstayed their
welcome," Nao explained. Heck, they were probably expecting them to run off or shut down or
something. "If you're planning to take final exams and apply for high school, you need a proper ID-
- which means, paperwork submitted with your actual details, not the one that government filled in
for you."

"My paperwork... was it not already properly filled?" Itona asked. "I was not aware of that."

Nao sighed, holding out a hand. Itona, sensing the unspoken directive, reached into his bag and
retrieved a lanyard with a card inside of it.

It's a laminated piece of paper, his temporary pass into school grounds.

"This one says that you're affiliated with the government, and your registered guardian is the man
only known as Shiro," Nao explained, "you're joining this class as Horibe Itona, son of Horibe
Electronics, aren't you?"

With a practiced move, Nao tossed the plastic aside and slotted in the proper card, before handing
it back to Itona as a counter worker would a business card.

"So..." Itona inspects the card with a little more light in his gaze this time, "I gather that you,
despite having nothing to gain, have submitted the necessary paperwork in my place."

Nao poked him in the forehead.

Seriously, his speech was stiffer than his shoulders.

"A simple thank you would suffice," he chided. "Keep the card safe, at least until exams are over.
You'll probably be able to get a couple student discounts from hardware stores or something."

Turning away, his hand brushed against Karma's table for a brief moment before he made his way
out the door.

"He already knows you're a machine geek?" Terasaka blanched.

"Was he in school when we made that tank?"

"Dunno. He's got less presence than a house fly sometimes."

"Isn't student registration papers like, really tedious? And if it's mid-semester, he'll have to go
through the Board Chairman personally, too," Kayano wondered, "how does he do all that so
easily?"

"He is in charge of all communication we have between here and main campus, after all," Isogai
turned around from his seat, "I think he's used to it."

Being used to the Board Chairman? Nagisa shivered at the mere thought. "Kuma-sensei's a
terrifying man, alright..."

Itona was still staring at his card, entranced. Even the picture had been updated-- when did he take
this picture, anyways? He lifted his head at the mention of the teacher's name.

"Kuma?" he asked, "is that what he was called? I can't remember..."

There's a pause as a few people look at him in surprise.

Karma snorted. "Yeah, he's Kumanosu!"

A few people give him a startled look.

"Karma-kun," Hara chides as Ritsu chops him on the head with a robotic hand. "Don't lie to him.
It's Ku-no-ma-su."

"Kunomasu?" Itona repeated with a frown.

"Everyone calls him Kuma-sensei, so you can go for that, too," Maehara assured, and there were no
rebuttals there. "Even we forget his actual name more often than not."

"He doesn't really mind if you mess up his name, so don't worry about that either," that's
Nakamura, raising an OK sign in one hand.

If he'd ever minded, the 'Kuma-sensei' trend would never have happened, after all.
"Oh, and his stamina is so bad, he'll actually get a heart attack if he runs a lap around school,"
Yada told him. "He's usually fine though."

"How is someone as weak as that still alive?" Itona asked, completely serious.

"Uhh, some sort of miracle, I guess?" is Sugino's guess.

"Hey, don't raise any flags," Fuwa warned them, "Kuma-sensei's a walking tragedy plot device,
don't test it."

"Plus, he may be weak, but he's strong enough to lift a car," Kimura said.

There's a shocked whirl of heads as they all went, "what?!"

Kimura held up his hands, "not completely! Just like, he got half of it off the ground to get a ball
stuck under. I swear I was just passing by when I saw it in the distance."

"Are you sure that was him though?"

"Yeah, he was home, so he had on that bear headband thing he wore during the trip."

"Seriously, someone should burn that thing. It's sacrilegious to fashion."

Itona hummed at all the new knowledge.

Then he set down his card on the table, and stood up. "I guess I must, then. I'll go express my
gratitude or something."

"Ooh, Itona's learning how to be polite!" Nakamura teased.

Hara wiped a tear away, "our boy is growing up."

"Who are you and what have you done with Itona?" an offended Okajima exclaimed.

Karma laughed, "don't worry, guys, even Itona has to do something nice to Kuma-sensei. We've all
been there." Then a jeering look. "Right?"

Itona briefly considered the consequences of classroom massacre 2.0, but he'll put those plans on
hold.

"Speaking of which," Itona turned to the redhead. "Your Kuma-sensei took away your wasabi and
mustard on his way out. Is that fine with you?"

Karma freezes-- and in his frantic attempt to check his own pockets, his legs cluttered disgracefully
from their spot on the table. He nearly fell from his chair, but he stood up in discomposure.

Then in a most insulted voice--

"--when the hell?!"

Karma dashed out the door in a panic, and the class joined in laughter at the class delinquent's ire,
so that was great.
 a little mint for your heart.
Chapter Summary

Codenames go around and chaos ensues.

Nothing much happens, but a lot of warmth and love is shared.

“Codenames?”

Kurahashi had a box held out in his face. “Yes!” she says, “we decided we would call everyone by
nicknames today. By the way, mine is Fluffy Stag Beetle.”

Fluffy Stag Beetle-- wait, why Fluffy? Ah, because she’s the Yurufuwa character of the class, huh.
Makes sense.

Nao eyed the box warily. If the student came up with the names, he truthfully feared what he might
find inside. “I just have to draw one, right?”

“Yep!”

Nao stared at the box with dread, and reached in with fervent prayers that it wouldn’t be as terrible
as Irina’s.

“I swear to everything high and holy, if I find out who wrote it…”

Nao buried his face into his hands, trying to hide his fervently reddening cheeks. Seriously, this
was so embarrassing. Everything outside the mountain must never know of this.

“Not telling!” Nakamura (English Lass) grinned, “can we continue class now, Teddy Daddy?
Pretty please, Teddy Daddy?” saying it twice because she’s obnoxious.

“Yeah, Teddy Daddy, I’m falling asleep here,” Terasaka (I can’t believe it’s not Takaoka) raised
his voice almost jeeringly, because bullying is his special skill and he loves to make use of it
sometimes.

“Heyy, Teddy Daddy,” Karma (Eternal Eighth Grader) called out, “show some class spirit!”

“Teddy Daddy, can we skip the homework today?” Isogai (President Poverty) joined in, just for
the sake of it. “I have a long shift after this.”

“Teddy Daddy,” said Itona (Picture Book Graduate), then he made a retching noise, “no.”
“Haha, take your time,” Mimura (Director Mushroom) assured him.

“You don’t have to say it every sentence!” Nao (Teddy Daddy) yelled, flustered. “Oh fuck, it’s
beside my name in the narration, too. I might kill someone.”

“Gotta make that word count somehow,” Kataoka (Dignified Didact) relented.

All of them are absolutely doing this on purpose and he's livid. He slammed his hands against the
table and tried to look mad, but he was on the verge of laughter himself.

“To begin with, there’s plenty of ways to put those two meanings together in a nickname that
sounds better… like Papa Bear or something...” he muttered, knowing the effort was in vain.

“But ‘Teddy Daddy’ rhymes,” Sugino (Baseball Geek) said, like it was the most important thing in
the world. The class erupts with snickers and giggles.

“It’s catchy,” Kanzaki (Grandmaster Kanzaki) agreed.

Nao (Teddy Daddy) groaned. “What are you guys, children that just found out they can sing?”

When he checked the rest of the box, there were even more ridiculous things written.

“Monokuma? I don’t like what this insinuates. What the-- Kumatose? I’ll fucking deck you, say
that to my face,” he hissed. “Whoever wrote ‘Death at Mountain Trail’, I swear you’re getting
detention when I find out who you are.”

One snort of laughter. Someone choked.

“And whoever it is that just wrote a whole line of bear themed Pokemon only to cross out
everything except Pangoro, I would like to know your reasons but I’m also absolutely dreading the
answer.”

Okano (Amazing Ape) raised her hand, “it’s cause it’s a panda, sir.”

Fuwa (This Manga is Amazing!) added that, “it’s the only bear that’s primary Fighting type! And
secondary Dark, of all things. Plus it only lets itself be captured by trainers that can beat it in a
fistfight.”

Nao (Teddy Daddy) deadpanned, “I don’t know, Fuwa, I don’t think I can win a fight against a
fucking bear in a fistfight.”

“Yes you can,” Fuwa (This Manga is Amazing!) immediately retorted.

“Yes you can,” Muramatsu (Home Plate) grimly added. Even their class’ strongest two delinquents
can escape a death grip from him after all.

“Wait, Urshifu is a Fighting-Dark, too!”

“But that’s a legendary, it doesn’t count.”

“You imbecile,” Karma (Eternal Eight Grader) enunciated in an exaggeratedly sarcastic tone, “you
dare insinuate that Teddy Daddy isn’t legendary enough?”

Nao (Teddy Daddy) snapped. “Stop it, you guys are embarrassing!”

“What?” Apparently, Kimura (Justice) disagreed, gesticulating to prove his point, “dude, Bewear
fits better! It’s literally the overprotective Papa Bear Pokemon that will crush your ribs with a
hug!”

“Excuse all of you, what about the OG Bear Pokemon, Ursaring?!” Kayano (Forever Zero) argued
loudly.

To which there’s an immediate, even more sarcastic rebuttal from Maehara (Womanizing
Scumbag), “excuse you, you uncultured peasant? The original Bear Pokemon is our lord and
saviour Snorlax.”

“Snorlax is a bear?!”

“If Snorlax isn’t a bear, what is it?”

“It’s-- it’s a Pokemon?!”

Nao (Teddy Daddy) buried his face into his hands in muted resignation.

The classroom erupts into a heated debate on which Pokemon were bears (“koalas are marsupials,
they’re not bears!” Kurahashi (Fluffy Stag Beetle) argued,) and which Pokemon weren’t (“Spinda
are red pandas! They’re raccoons!” Takebayashi (Glasses (*Explosion*)) added loudly.)

“Hey, stop it! All those brackets are confusing!” Nao (Teddy Daddy) yelled, “do you have any idea
how many people probably skipped over that paragraph?”

“Teddy Daddy, stop breaking the fourth wall!”

“You’re the last person that gets to say that, Miss ‘This Manga is Amazing’!”

People have drawn up diagrams and were yelling at each other across the room about the validity
of what Pokemon was a bear-- “no seriously, Slaking isn’t a bear, it’s an ape-- no, it’s a sloth! Its
base form is a SlakOTH for god’s sake!”

So on and so forth.

He’d completely lost control of his classroom and he had no idea how to regain control. He had no
motivation to, either.

“I wish they were this motivated during class,” he muttered.

There was no hope of classes going on at all after this, so he just sat down and watched the
madness.
“Anyways, Teddy Daddy isn’t a Pokemon, he definitely fits a Totoro better!”

“Oh geez some people don’t know the creepy urban legend behind Totoro and it shows.”

“You’re picking a fight!”

He let out a longsuffering groan.

“Korosensei said that he didn’t like how you, Karasuma-sensei, and Bitch-sensei never use his
name when speaking to him, and things escalated like this.”

“Ah, the Octopus said that? I see.”

“...Why don’t you use his name, anyways?”

“Why don’t the others?”

“Well, they said it was embarrassing.”

“Exactly. And I just wanted to keep up the trend, okay?”

Friday evenings are dull moments for Nao (Teddy Daddy).

“Enough of that already.”

He decided not to stay overnight at school this time, so he received a hot chocolate in the school
building and a complementary shawl for the trip home.

“How do you even make this, anyways?” he wonders, winding the shawl around his neck. It’s not
nearly cold enough weather to wear a muffler, but evenings in mountains were chilly so it’s a fair
game.

And he had a feeling this hot chocolate + shawl treatment has happened before.

“We had Ritsu make it!” Yada says. “She made plastic flowers last time, remember?”

Nao doesn’t, but he nodded anyways, remembering the fake flowers that decorated their classroom
the week Ritsu joined. It started a weekly flower trend that was now filled with fresh flowers that
each student takes turns bringing to school every week.

“I was testing out crocheting, since it's detailed work,” Ritsu smiled from her screen. “I have
burned the previous editions, but once I procure better materials and master the programming, I
promise I will make you a better one.”

Nao winced. “Now that explains why it’s a slightly different colour every time.”

This one was black-- at least, he thought so until he held it up to the light, and found that it was just
a really dark blue. Navy, perhaps.

Upon closer inspection, there were bumps near the start and around the ends, probably where she
had trouble changing different techniques in her codes. Even machines didn’t work perfectly
without trial and error, after all.

“It’s fine. I like this one, so if you make a better one, you can give it to one of the other students,”
Nao assured her. “Knitted scarves are better when there are flaws, after all.”

Ritsu seemed confused at that. “Is that so?”

Nao’s eyes met Yada’s, and they shrugged in fond resignation.

“Beautiful flowers are short-lived, but pressed, dried flowers are treasured and preserved as
keepsakes,” he told her. “Rather than luxuries and expensive costs, sometimes, it’s much more
important to just know that someone thought of you.”

Ritsu took that in, smiling as she kept those words carefully in the crest of her memory.

“It’s very strange,” she told him. “Kuma-sensei, your words are often simple, and yet, I find myself
very fascinated by the way they are construed.”

(So basically, “I don’t know what this means, but I like how the words are shaped,” but spoken by
an adorable robot girl that unironically meant every word.)

“It’s called love, Ritsu!” Yada cheerfully informed her.

Nao jumped slightly when Ritsu’s screen lit up pink, covered in clouds and hearts.

“I see,” Ritsu brightened up, “it seems like I have fallen in love with you, Kuma-sensei!” she
reported, very joyfully for something that would be scandalous to say if it didn’t come from a
machine.

Nao couldn’t even be mad.

“Don’t teach Ms Autonomous these weird things, Yada-san,” he reprimanded, though his words
were completely without heat.

The girls simply giggled in response.

“Guess we’re heartbreak buddies now, Ritsu,” Yada said. Then she mimed a stage-whisper, “for a
literature teacher, he’s so dense when it comes to our feelings, huh? I asked him to marry me last
time, but he totally didn’t take me seriously.”

Ritsu nodded along, “I see, I see. It seems there might be a quick change in Nagisa-kun’s
‘classroom densest’ rating that is stored in my database. Should I update the information?”

“Don’t make stupid lists--” Nao stopped short. “Nagisa is in on this?!”

“Thanks for your work, Kuma-sensei.”

Despite everything, Nao felt like he was going to cry when Isogai settled down a cup of coffee on
the cafe table before him.

He’s seated on the couch seats, papers strewn out before him as he tried to get some work done
here instead of on the mountain as he usually did.

“It’s peppermint mocha,” Isogai said as he served the drink up.

It was soothing, his entire presence. There was a reason this guy was adored by all the aunties of
the neighbourhood-- he was just too precious to let go of.

(And if only Isogai actually knew the flower language for mints, he would be even more sweet.
But Nao will soak in these warm feelings in his own mind. He can only handle so much precious in
one day.)

“It’s great for a tiring day. Oh, but it isn’t on the menu, so don’t tell the owner, okay?” he
chuckled, a finger to his lip in a brilliant image of innocence right there. “And if you want to take a
nap, I can bring a blanket over.”

Nao wanted to hug him. What an ikemen!

“Thanks, Isogai,” he said instead, picking up the mug and taking a careful sip. It’s rare to get
peppermint mocha outside of winter, but it’s definitely great. “But I'm fine for now.”

He should be reporting Isogai’s part-time job to the school, but it’s much easier to just turn a blind
eye on it.

To begin with, the ‘no-work policy’ in Japanese schools was just a culmination of annoying,
outside factors. There were underage working laws, for one.

Then one could argue that in a high-education school like this, there was a real need to emphasize
focusing on studying and club activity. And most of all, being a student meant you were
representing your school in Japanese society, and there could not be any reason to risk it.

It is possible to acquire a work permit from the school, but trying to get one is jumping through too
many hoops Isogai couldn’t afford to do in emergencies.

Even when Nao was in the main campus, he was often told to turn a blind eye to Isogai in
particular-- he had good grades, after all. The school faculty would overlook it under the premise
of ‘not knowing’ as long as he kept it under wraps.

Except, near the end of term last year, one of Isogai’s classmates blew the whistle.

There was no longer a way to deny knowledge, so to maintain the school reputation, they had no
choice but to take action on it and give Isogai a suspension. It was sort of like Karma’s situation, in
hindsight. Just, without the violence.

Kunugigaoka was just like that-- they would always tread the line of their own rules with vigor, but
once it inconvenienced them, they wouldn’t hesitate to turn the tables against their own students.

Culling the faulty pieces, and padding on the favourable ones-- that was one thing Chairman Asano
took pride in, if nothing else.

“You know the story of the man who fell off his horse and broke his leg?”

Isogai gave him a strange look, but he stayed to listen.

“He cursed himself, thinking this was a horse of bad luck,” Nao explained. “But a week later,
soldiers came to conscript able men. His leg was broken, so he was spared from being signed up as
a soldier-- and in turn, spared from the war.”

Isogai seemed to remember that story now.

“Ah… he then realizes that his broken leg was good luck after all… right?” he said. “The story that
tells you not to assume too soon, because some things may not be what it seems at first.”

Nao nodded. “Yes, that one.”

Isogai hummed. “I remember it, what brings it up all of a sudden?”

Nao chuckled, taking another sip. “Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking,” he said.

Come to think of it, the many awful things that the students of Class E went through to end up in
this ditch-- it also brought them to the best place they ever could end up.

(Great things will come, if we’re patient.)

“Come to think of it, the Sports Festival is soon, isn’t it?” Nao changed the subject.

“Ah, yes,” Isogai said. “Will you be doing the documentation of scores this year again, Kuma-
sensei?”

Nao grimaced. “Ugh, I’d better not. I’m not H.O.D. of Languages anymore,” he mutters. Then,
after a moment, “think I can skip?”

Isogai laughed, “teachers can’t skip the Sports Festival, sensei.”

 the many languages in the world.
Chapter Summary

Flowers can say a lot. A flower you receive from your loving stepmother might be
sweet, but a white orchid from someone you know is a murderer might give you some
nightmares.

That said, Nao is a master of literature.

So of course, he will read too much into everything. It is, after all, his job-- and he will
enjoy it as much as he can.

There are plants on the counter.

It’s daybreak, and Nao had to get to school.

These flowers were probably meant for him, from Ms Sakurai-- so he picked up the little bouquet,
just a little more than a flower, vines, and grainy shrubs-- and he inspected them as he left,
whispering a word of ‘I’ll be off’ to no one.

He is the son of a florist, after all. He can identify quite a few by heart, after being here his whole
life. Now, what could his often non-verbal mother want to tell him?

A zephyr flower, sweet basil, and… moss. Iceland moss.

In sickness and in health, I offer my blessings.

“Isn’t this basically a ‘Have a safe trip’?” he chuckled. And well, in a more literal sense, maybe
this means Ms Sakurai was anxious about his condition, too.

Nao’s used to it, though. It doesn’t quite feel real when someone tells you 'you don't have long to
live' when most of your days are deceptively calm.

(When he gets a break next time, he should take Ms Sakurai out for a meal. As a family, just to do
something nice for her.)

He sighs, taking in a cold breath. The sun was rising quickly, and this was later than Nao was
comfortable setting out. He’s going to be late again.

(Well, that’s fine.)

(A couple late days for Class E is no problem.)

“I guess I should pay a visit to Doctor Matsukawa sometimes,” he sighed. Even if they’ve already
deemed him hopeless and are no longer looking for a cure or a checkup, a chat over tea for their
old friendship wouldn’t hurt.
He looked over his bouquet again.

(Come to think of it, Flower Language is linguistics too, huh.)

(Adding one more to the lists of languages he’s fluent in.)

“I wonder if the Board Chairman would look at me weird if I start texting him in Flower
Language,” he muttered. “Ah… but it’s not a one-dimensional language, so maybe he won’t be
able to understand.”

(I could teach him, he thinks, and then laughs at the incredulity.)

He passed by a van, a young man setting up a stall of fresh flowers in bundles. His hat was set low
on his head, but when Nao crossed his path, he looked up.

Nao’s eyes were drawn to him as well.

The Second Reaper stared back at him, his light hair, pale skin, and innocent demeanor-- just as
Nao remembered.

And Nao’s blood immediately goes cold.

There’s a muted, uncomfortable moment. It’s recognition in those eyes-- just a flash-- but Nao
knows surprise when he sees it. It’s gone in an instant, never noticed if he didn’t look for it-- but
Nao’s reaction is worse. Much, more obvious.

He’d instinctively stopped in his tracks to look, lips parting in bewilderment. He quickly
recomposed himself, but there’s no way he can dismiss that acknowledgement now. He’d be too
suspicious.

This is a terrible situation.

“Ah… those flowers,” the words leave Nao’s lips with a slightly lopsided smile, “the orchids.
They’re beautiful. I haven’t seen them so gorgeous before.”

(No! Don’t change the subject! Are you an idiot?!)

The Reaper simply smiled back, much more brightly than Nao’s-- “a fan of flowers, I see,” he
mused. “I’ve raised these myself. Would you like one for the road?”

(Who asks for flowers for the road? But then again…)

(He’ll kill me if I say no, right?)

Nao took an elegant bouquet of three white orchids, and he wondered if this is supposed to be the
hallmark of his very eventual funeral.

“They’re very well-cared for,” Nao said, surmising the rest of the flowers. He wasn’t lying when
he said they were beautiful-- orchids like these usually had to be ordered, after all-- they were hard
to grow and bloomed for a limited time.

This man might be a murderer-- but as a fellow flower enthusiast, Nao had to give him the
recognition for it, at least. It’s evident that this wasn’t just a mandatory skill-- this man had a clear
passion for the flowers, and it shines a whole step ahead of everything else.

“Someone whose hands are gentle enough to raise such beautiful flowers can’t possibly be a bad
person,” he whispered to himself, not intending for it to be heard at all.

(But from the way the Reaper seems to still for a moment, he definitely did.)

Fearful of any future questioning, Nao quickly excused himself. “I’ll be late for work! If you’ll
excuse me, then.”

Nao recognized the Reaper from his past knowledge.

But then-- what did the Reaper see in Nao?

Nao was arranging the flowers by the window when he heard the boys kicking up a fuss in the
next room.

They were all throwing things at Isogai, calling him names, and overall being totally wholesome
idiots trying to tease the modesty out of their frustratingly humble class president.

“Oh! Kuma-sensei, hear this!” Kimura notices him first, “Isogai got caught in his part time work!”

“And now Asano-kun is blackmailing him!”

“And now he’s willing to get expelled to save our reputation or some shit tell him he’s an absolute
moron please!”

Huh. “Oh, that’s terrible,” Nao deadpanned.

He didn’t even look up from his flowers, simply leaning in to inspect a crumpled lead before
shuffling them around again to hide it.

Immediately, all of them, as if that proved their point, whirled back onto Isogai, “see?! We all
agree you’re not cool for wanting to take the blame!” for some reason, “Asano’s the arse here!”
“No, he definitely didn’t say that,” Isogai muttered.

Dramatic gasping, “you’ve been corrupted! You’re now doubting the words of our high and holy
Teddy Daddy?!”

Isogai seemed to be the only sane one around, Maehara leading the insanity charge as the boys in
class fussed over him for no reason other than dramatics, “I’m not doubting his words, I’m just
questioning the lack thereof--”

“Get the priest! The priest!”

“It’s the ahoge! He’s catching vibes from the main campus with it!”

Even Nagisa seemed to hold out his phone when Okajima exuberantly pleaded for means of
communication. Karma was leading the theatrical proclamations in the corner. Even the more
logical ones, like Chiba, were just amusedly watching it all happen without extending any offer of
help to their poor Class President.

“Quit it, you guys! Take this seriously!” Isogai snapped.

Everyone fell silent at that. It was true-- this was, after all, a little more than an E-class
discrimination in play. This was Isogai breaking the school rules, which was a valid reason to be
worried.

If it was a normal student, they could be convinced to turn a blind eye somehow. Asano and the
virtuosos were just petty-- and Isogai was just unlucky. That was it.

Finally, Terasaka slams the windows open, and with a big wide grin, he shouts to the world,
“Isogai just told us to be serious! He’s officially lost it!”

And so the madness started all over again.

“When did lunacy become our default?!” Isogai’s desperate whining fell on deaf ears.

Seriously, Nao found himself watching the horrific playout that seemed to have been abruptly
dropped from another dimension because eit didn’t make any sense at all, what in the everloving
hell is going on here.

But man, this was amusing.

“Now, kids. If you have time to shout around here, how about you guys get started on making
plans for your pole-toppling competition?” Nao said, despite knowing full well none of them have
enlightened him on the stakes just yet. “As your teacher, I suggest implementing the free-running
practice Karasuma-san has been teaching you guys into your strategies.”

“Ooh! He’s right!” Karma lifts his head from the dogpile they’d buried Isogai into.

“If we’re talking guerilla warfare--”

“We are not, but carry on.”

“--then we could ask Kanzaki-san and Hayami-san for tips. They’re good at shooting games, right?
Practical applications of landscape and dirty tactics.”

“This is hardly anything of that scale, but okay, as long as someone dumbs it down for Terasaka it
should work.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Nagisa-kun, go get the negative squad and assemble the worst case scenarios,” Karma called out
with a laugh, resisting Isogai’s attempt to break his arm. “Won’t put it past the principal to not get
some extra endorsements for his son!”

“Information is power!” some obscure voice agreed.

“Okay, let’s go, Kuma-sensei,” Nagisa took Nao by the arm.

“Wait, I'm part of the negative recon squad?” Nao asked, flabbergasted, “hey, I'm tired already…”

The late-night convention of Kurahashi (miss infiltrator), Fuwa (detective wannabe), Hayama
(negative queen), Nagisa (bookkeeper extraordinaire), Takebayashi (analyst), and Itona (warfare
expert) was rather amusing.

They argued about what could happen, taking context clues from the day and trying to come up
with the most ridiculous dirty tricks the Asanos could pull out of their asses this time.

“I’m saying, he could definitely rig the field with mines just on our side, okay?”

"Fuwa, have you been watching Inazuma Eleven again?"

“Or sabotage our shoes or our food and make us unable to show up on the day of.”

“Don’t worry guys, there’s a chance a meteorite will strike the field the second the whistle blows,
so we might not need some complicated warfare or anything. I call this the Rats! It’s our
Unsolicited trip to the Netherworld! Or Plan R-U-N for short!”

“You made that up to come up with an acronym, Fuwa-san, and unfortunately the acronym does
NOT make sense!”

Nao enjoyed his peppermint coffee, watching them interact with all the vigor of students debating
over vacation choices. It was endearing.

He thought of the flower message from Ms Sakurai this morning-- then of the flowers he received
from the pseudo-Reaper.

He wondered if there was a flower for this feeling, too. This peaceful sense of elation, so sweet and
addictive. It was something everyone knew to be fleeting, and yet, at this moment-- Nao couldn’t
really care less.
(There’s nothing wrong about living pleasantly in the moment, forgetting everything.)

Life was made to be enjoyed short and sweet, after all.

“Don’t you agree, Kuma-sensei?”

“Ah,” Nao chuckled, “I wasn’t listening, but I’m sure you’re right, Kurahashi-san.”

“See, he agrees with me!”

“No no, that’s too convoluted even for the Board Chairman! He would definitely just go the easy
way. Don’t forget his wallet is depthless, money is the least of his inconveniences! I’m saying,
he’ll definitely use it somehow!”

“Isn’t that too mafia-bossey even for him?!”

“Are we thinking of the same person? Of course he’s mafia-bossey!”

“As an educator, I find your liberal usage of the prudently-created word, ‘mafia-bossey’, rather
unpleasant.”

“Agh, he’s going to turn this into a class! Nagisa! Stuff a marshmallow in his mouth!”

Nao wasn’t too enthusiastic about the heat, but he sure as hell was the loudest E-class supporter at
the teachers’ stands when the sports festival came around.

(Openly, at least. No one can beat the proud dad in Korosensei. The octopus would definitely be
screeching in clones of dozens if he weren’t a state secret.)

It only made everything funnier when the E-class boys won.

“You lost-- but you’re complacent.”

Nao stopped, right before the door.

“Shouldn’t the defeat be driving you mad inside?”

Taking a breath to brace himself-- Nao knocked on the door. He could see, from the shadows
behind the tinted glass, that the two figures had frozen up.

“Board Chairman Asano, it is Kunomasu,” he introduced himself. Then, quietly slotting in a farce
of calm on his face, “is now a good time?”
And then, Nao does the unthinkable.

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

Opening the door, he’s faced with the mildly surprised expressions of two Asanos-- one
bewildered, one horrified-- Nao simply adorns a mildly startled look.

“Oh, Asano-kun. Good evening,” he greeted.

Then, completely unfazed, Nao turned to the four bulky transfer students, sprawled out and curled
into uncompromising positions, streaks of blood brushed across their faces onto the floors in what
were probably trajectories of damage.

Loose shoes, weak whimpers-- and shaking limbs, too agonized to move.

Calmly, Nao observed the situation.

“Oh, they look really hurt!” he said shocked, turning to Gakushuu before setting a hand on his
shoulder. “Hey, Asano-kun, could you go call the first-aid team? They haven’t left the sports field
yet.”

Gakushuu needed a moment to register it.

“Oh-- uh,” a nervous glance at his father, then he shrank further behind Nao. “I’ll go do that. Right
now. Yeah.”

And then he ran away, evidently spooked but not at all compromising a rare situation to get out of
his father’s range.

Though the younger Asano quickly left the field of range, Board Chairman Asano’s haunting--
furious glare did not leave Nao for even a second. Nao waved until Gakushuu was out of sight--
and then came to face the most petrifying sight he’d ever had the horror of being exposed to.

In the dim lighting of the room-- Asano’s fury came with a distinctively shadowed look, and an
uncomfortably looming shadow.

It was like staring down into the jaws of a wolf, when its claws were already around his neck and
its fangs already framing his face.

There was nothing but a hollow, depthless end where those eyes lay-- and Nao felt weak in the
knees. His smile inevitably faltered.

“You’re grown braver these days, Kuma-sensei.” For some reason, Asano’s returning smile only
made the pit in his stomach sink more painfully.

That was a threat, layered deeply with years of constrained bloodlust, and if this had been anyone
else that was talking-- Nao might already be dead.
It was fortunate that Asano had the impulse for necessary violence, but never for murder. He had
his morals as a civilian, at least.

(Don’t be mad, Nao pleaded but never vocally, knowing that was the dumbest thing you could say
to someone that was angry.)

But Asano will not kill Nao, nor will he beat him up.

Nao will also not be afraid of anything any less than real death.

So, they’re at a stalemate.

He fidgeted, and held his hands behind him, forcing out a polite smile borne more out of resigned
embarrassment than anything else. Seriously, what was he expecting here-- to magically be able to
stop Asano’s murderous onslaught early?

Finally, Nao chuckles. “Should we talk, or something?” he suggests.

Asano’s response is surprisingly curt. It seems his irritation would not be curbed by an angel’s
smile, not so easily. “Your voice infuriates me right now.”

Nao nods.

“Then, I’ll just listen,” he signs out, a cheeky smile growing on his face. He makes his way to the
couches, setting a hand on the backrest, “sit with me? We can have some coffee or tea,
whichever feels more appropriate.”

Asano moves-- but instead of delivering Nao a much-needed slap to the face, he simply cleans his
hands on a handkerchief and turns the coffee machine on.

And that’s how their evening was spent.

Coffee between them, harsh words going on one end with never a vocal response from the other.
The medic team comes in to help the transfer students at some point, but neither party ever
acknowledges them.

Asano does little more than reiterate his educational policies or brag about his rather terrifying
achievements-- he does get very colourful about his grievances about Korosensei and how that
messed everything up as well.

How could he just throw a wrench like that into his plans that have worked for ages? People don’t
take well to abrupt changes, of a large scale, and he acknowledged he was the same. He was just
unwilling to reverse his years of effort.

Was he scared of what might happen again? Nao asks. Without even flinching, Asano denies it
once, then swiftly changes the subject.

(Well.)
(It’s not bad progress for counselling session #1, was it?)

Nao always learned languages quickly.

So now, he found himself wondering how long it would take before he could properly decipher the
enigmatic language that was ‘Asano Gakuho’.

(He hoped he could master it soon.)

 the reasons to be at ease.
Chapter Summary

"What's the meaning of life?" is a question people have asked, on and on, for as long
as humanity has existed. Nao, of course, has encountered that topic many times in his
life.

(And truly-- the answer is something you can only find for yourself.)

Nao remembers, forgets, and finds new memories to treasure.

It was a day of sore throats and wet coughs when Nao heard the news.

The kids had been reckless with their free-running, and there were injuries in the form of a poor old
man with a fractured thigh.

He was already in the hospital-- luckily-- so he had to rush into the room, and together with
Karasuma’s subordinate-- get on his knees to plead for forgiveness. If they screwed up here and
didn’t earn the man’s favour, the entire state secret’s a blowout.

Fortunately, with Korosensei’s fervent challenge of ‘look how many flowers I can FIT IN THIS
TINY ROOM!’ and his overenthusiastic dogeza of sheer babadook horror-- they managed to terrify
the old man long enough for him to hear them out.

(Nao immediately proceeded to deliver one good-headed SMACK to the octopus’ head. Seriously,
there’s a fine line between desperation and dramatisation, and creating new seeds of trauma in an
old man goes beyond it.)

He watched quietly as the students were brought in (with a new print of a tentacle-slap bright red
against their faces) and the situation was explained.

It looks like their next two weeks will be spent helping out the nursery, and no studying would be
allowed in the time frame. After all-- this incident was caused by the students who couldn’t set
their priorities straight. What better way to truly teach them what mattered?

It looks like the next term’s exams are a bust, but it will be fine.

He held up an OK when Korosensei glanced his way for approval.

And then, after bidding a polite goodbye to the old man, he hurriedly excused himself. It wasn’t
the most polite thing the teacher-in-charge should do, but he was desperate.
His throat was burning and his migraine was peaking-- a sharp throb punctuating his ever step as a
drill crams itself through his the head-- he sought out his house in the fog of dizziness, taking
effortful, surging steps as upright as he could manage-- making it to a couch where it was finally
safe to collapse and start emulating a strangled frog.

He was not having a good day. Or week. Or month, for that matter.

The kids are spending this moment of reprieve from their studies working at the orphanage, but
Nao spends most of his time in bed.

He didn’t feel well enough to get up most days-- but when he did, he visited and watched from
afar. Korosensei had instructed him (and the rest of the human teachers) to stay away and let the
students handle the situation without adult help, and he respected that decision to cultivate their
independence.

The coffee in his hands was warm.

The satellite campus was quiet, with an occasional tap of Irina’s stilettos somewhere else in the
building. Karasuma was around too, but he was preoccupied, doing reports for the government on
account of their previous losses, arranging for hush money and other expenses to be paid out.

It was going to be October soon.

“You made it today,” Korosensei observed, watching the main campus with binoculars. “You
didn’t have to, you know? The students are all down in the main campus for their second semester
midterms.”

Nao cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t want to waste the energy I had.” He swatted away an
encroaching set of tentacles, “what are you trying to do?”

“Spying,” was his rather evasive answer. “I seek solutions to the many questions that have been
laid out for me.”

(Cryptid arse.)

Nao sighed. He didn’t have the energy to decipher what he meant by it-- but he might actually
know already.

“You can treat me, can’t you?” It's a rhetorical question. “Or, you can try to.”

Korosensei isn’t fazed by the question. “I aim to,” he promised. Until Nao let him take a closer
look, there was nothing he could do, though.

Nao managed a smile.

“Well, I appreciate you waiting for my consent first-- but please, just don’t do it.”

“Hmm?” Korosensei turned to him, lifting his eyes from the binoculars. “Do you not wish to live
longer?”

Well, that certainly isn’t true.

Nao has plenty of things he wants to do, that he knows he won’t have time to do.

(He wants to see the children graduate-- not just from junior high, but into high school, too. He
wants to see Asano Gakuho break down and recover, and begin building again. He wants to see the
culmination of the love between Karasuma and Irina one day.)

(And he wants to talk about flowers with the Grim Reaper, both the past and the present.)

But he doesn’t want to be healed.

“Do you know what waits for you after death?” Nao asked, instead of answering.

Gently, he tapped upon the memories he’d shoved down all this time, and closed his eyes-- trying
to remember the last moments of his previous life.

He would say he remembers the pain, but that would be a lie.

“Heaven? Hell?” Nao suggested, and then finished, “it’s just darkness. And the feeling of crushing
emptiness in your chest, where something used to be. There’s nothing there, and you have to
wander forever, only thinking about yourself and what you left behind.”

As expressive as Korosensei usually held himself-- he was frozen now. The empty semblance of a
meaningless smile was stuck on his face, but it definitely held no joy. There was no amusement--
only confusion, and inner turmoil.

“And that’s when the emptiness will ask you--” Nao smiled for what Korosensei could not, “--what
do you regret? Did you leave anything unfulfilled?”

A moment.

“Do you want to go back, or do you want to go on? Think carefully.”

The coffee in his hands had gone cold, but Nao took a sip anyway, looking out into the distance--
to the sunlight-- to the scenery, full of everything.

“So imagine this,” Nao began again. “You have nothing to think about. Your regrets weren’t too
significant anyways-- and you achieved nothing that was worth fulfilling. You stand before the
judge, and yet-- you have nothing to say. You don’t wish for more time, but you don’t wish to pass
on, either.”
Finally, Korosensei interrupted.

“Is this an introspective hypothetical, or is it something more?”

Nao managed an exasperated chuckle. “It’s just the blabber of a literature teacher high on too much
caffeine, sir. Please, pay it little mind.”

With a heavy sigh, Nao turned back toward the Class E building.

“I’ll head on in first, then,” he said, “I’ve got classes to plan.”

“Wait, Kunomasu-sensei,” Korosensei spoke, and Nao turned back, their eyes meeting. “What
happens if you don’t have an answer?”

Nao seemed to think on that.

“Well…” he shrugged, “you’re given more time to come up with an answer, I guess.”

(That’s why he doesn’t want to be healed in this life. He doesn’t want to be healed-- he doesn’t
want to be given things, to be led on. If he lives, he wants it to be his choice. If he dies, he wants it
to be on his own terms.)

(Learning how to treasure the little time he has left-- that’s the key to his answer.)

But really.

Who would’ve guessed that the gateway question to the afterlife would be ‘what’s the meaning of
life?’ Certainly not Nao, that’s for sure.

“I thought learning literature would let me find the answer in time,” he said. “Turns out I brought
more questions on myself instead. Ironic, isn’t it?”

He’s always worked better with a deadline, after all.

He’ll definitely find it.

And then, he’ll die-- contented or regretful, he still doesn’t know-- but he’ll be happy with how far
he’s found himself, and that’s all that matters.

“I can really get anything I want?” Irina asked again, still skeptical.

They’re in the cutest bakery in town, seated opposite each other like a rather fancy couple, to the
pure interest of way too many passersby.
“Yes, everything,” Nao said, holding out his wallet. “I give you permission until my wallet is dry.
Don’t put my mom in debt, though.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t be cruel to that dear lady!” she said, offended at the implication. But she
still snatched the wallet away and checked its contents greedily. “I want her as a mom! I love her.
With all my heart.”

“Come to the shop more often, then. She’ll adopt you before you even know it.”

(Seriously, all it took for Ms Sakurai to earn Irina’s favour was to fashion a fresh cornelia corsage
as a gift. Nao thought for a moment that she might be the most dangerous honeypot in existence--
she captured Irina’s heart in seconds!)

Anyways. She still wore the corsage now, around her wrist-- she evidently loved it, and it didn’t
even clash too much with her clothing.

“No take backs?” Irina asked once more.

“You don’t ask your victims to second-guess, do you?” Nao challenged. “Go on now. Spare me a
couple dimes for a coffee and a green tea cheesecake, though.”

Nao looked up briefly to see the generous bosom of a very well-endowed woman, two inches from
his face-- and in his shock, he barely felt the lips at his cheek, the gentle fingers tilting his chin
aside so the woman could access the side of his face.

“Love you! Be right back.”

Nao did not know how to move for a long moment after that.

But he found himself smiling. Irina was the most affectionate person in the entire campus-- she
would french kiss the kids, after all-- and she threw around confessions of love for a single free
drink, anytime she could.

But if you asked her to do the same to Karasuma-- she would rather die.

(Perhaps, living so long in the honeypot business has made her desensitized to common
expressions of love. For her, a kiss to the mouth was work; and a dramatic love confession was
simply the setup for a lovely death.)

(That was why in reality, the more chaste her actions were-- the more honest her feelings were.)

Honestly, a kiss on the cheek was probably the sweetest thing she has ever given to a human male
in her life, out of her own heart-- and Nao honestly felt quite honoured.

Maybe the world will explode when she finally gets to hold hands with Karasuma, you know. Nao
will look forward to it.

He knew better than anyone that Irina only saw Nao in the most wonderfully platonic ways, after
all. The emotion only went that far both ways, and they both had eyes elsewhere, anyways.

(Or at least Irina did. Nao was fairly sure his romantic preference lay somewhere between himself
and the sun, more specifically how much energy was needed to yeet an octopus into it.)

Then, “goddammit, Irina!” he searched his pockets frantically, “I kept my credit card out of that
wallet for a reason!”

“Don’t be a spoilsport--” Irina swipes the cards and finds the ID, “--Naomasa? That’s such an old-
fashioned name!”

“That’s it-- birthday or not, deal’s off! Give that back, you thief!”

“Nuh-uh! You said no take-backs!”

(He didn’t notice himself calling her on a first name basis until much later, but by then, first names
were thrown at )

It's been an awful month-- but for some reason, Nao felt at ease here.

In the satellite campus, on Nao's table, a bouquet of fresh white orchids bloom.

A young woman peruses the table, observing the arrangement of the books, the scribbles against
the edge of the table, and the gentle way the flowers reflected light against the sky.

With a sigh, she sits at the table, a hand reaching up to brush a strand of sandy brown hair behind
her ear.

"You sure caught the eye of one dangerous fellow, Nao..."

The door slams open, and Korosensei looks around, head swirling around in alarm. There was no
one in the staffroom. In a flash, he makes his way to Nao's desk, taking note of the white orchids
on the table.

These were not here before. Three days ago, Nao brought them uphill-- but these were fresh ones--
which meant that someone had delivered a new batch.

Someone was here. Two people, in fact-- they'd come one after the other, in the short one hour time
frame Korosensei was absent.

"To come here just to change flowers?"

That was absurd. He did a quick sift, but there were no listening or tracking devices on the flower,
either. No such thing.

So, why?

He couldn't smell anything-- no perfume, no odour-- nothing. There wasn't even the telltale natural
fragrance of earth and pollen that every florist would have.

Whoever it was, it was someone adept at infiltration-- so anyone in the underground, really.

But there really was no reason to go to such lengths just to deliver flowers. They didn't want to be
identified? Were they in a rush, perhaps?

"Is someone in the underground trying to court our Kunomasu-sensei, I wonder," Korosensei
mused to himself, unable to come up with a more liable explanation however.
 a windy day.
Chapter Summary

The Reaper captures Irina. Nao meets the sister he never wanted to meet again.

"I'm targeting him. He's an annoying target, but he always lets his guard down around
you. So let's compromise and work together so I can get my job done."

"No."

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“No, we can’t tell Kuma-sensei!” Sugino said, “yes he’ll give good advice, but Irina would
definitely notice we got it from him.”

“They’re not best friends for nothing,” Kanzaki chuckled.

“Wait, they’re best friends?” Nagisa questioned, “when did that happen?”

“Of course they are.”

“Obviously.”

“Unlike sir Da Densest, our precious Teddy Daddy brought Bitch-sensei out for a coffee date,
complete with the corsage around her wrist and the walking her home after,” Kayano swooned at
the sheer romantic energy of that entire statement, “man, I’m so jealous!”

“He did what? He played Sugar Daddy for a day?” Karma asked, “and no one told me?”

“I want to tell you not to say that, but that’s exactly what he did.”

“Don’t worry, I have photos,” Kanzaki assured, and automatically, she was declared Karma’s best
buddy in the art of blackmail material.

They gathered five thousand yen from the whole class, but when it came to buying presents, they
were rather lost.

“Well, maybe Kuma-sensei had the right idea about flowers, but would it be cheating if we got it
from someone other than Ms Sakurai?”

They catch the eye of a florist in a van.

The kids have made some terrible, terrible, mistake, and now, no one can find Irina.
Nao subtly deleted the fifth ‘pls strangle Karasuma-sensei for us’ message he’d gotten from the
class. ‘He’s right but he’s being a dick so pls strangle him for us’, there came another one.
Seriously, can they just get along?

After a stressful day, Nao returned home near midnight to a little gift box at his window. It’s a
small parcel, much unlike his usual care packages-- and it was evidently hand-delivered.

He stopped at the entrance of his room and took a slow breath.

It’s suspicious. Very suspicious. It screams all sorts of bad event flags especially in the current
situation and he wasn’t looking forward to finding stuff like glitter or sleep gas bombs or whatever
when he opens it. Let’s just hope it’s not a time bomb, though.

“I’m not opening it,” he declared to the room.

And then he closed the door, not even going in. He’ll sleep on the goddamn couch, in his suit and
everything. Fuck you, creepy motherhecker, whoever you are.

He stomps down the stairs in a hurry. Maybe he should barricade that damn door. Maybe he should
run to Ms Sakurai for protection. Is he too old to go to his mom when he’s accidentally in a horror
movie situation? Maybe Ms Sakurai can bribe his stalkers with flowers and tea. Flower tea.

Flower tea sounds nice right now.

“You should just open it and save me the trouble.”

He froze in his spot. Behind him, the woman sighs, her brown hair spilled over her shoulders, her
arms on her hips. She’s pouting slightly, looking disapprovingly at him.

Nao found himself surprised at the fact that they were the same height.

(Wait, focus.)

“Well, I can’t blame you,” she held up the box, crushing it in her hand along with the flower inside.
“You’ve got my instincts, I guess. We’ve all got it in us, y’know-- that super hitman quality.
Though you’re not using much of it.”

“Kaz--”

A hand was shoved into his face.

And then everything went black.

When Nao woke up, he was in a dark room.

His arms weren’t bound, and he was actually laying on a tea table, his arms as pillows. He lifts his
head, groaning at the ache in his neck, and finds a lovely lady drinking tea before him.
It was the accursed lady that shared his face, makeup done as prominently as Irina’s, but her hair a
cut shorter and her posture a little less extravagant. She was dressed in a full, agent-looking coat,
though Nao could see the edges of a dress under it.

Kunomasu Kazane-- or not, since she legally didn’t go by that name anymore-- was clearly his
estranged older sister. The resemblance still existed.

“You couldn’t just talk?” he grumbled, burying his face back into his arms, “I would’ve followed
you obediently if you just asked.” It wasn’t like he stood any fighting chance. He’d rather get
kidnapped peacefully.

“Oh really? Last time I asked Kazu to nicely be my hostage, he threatened malpractice on me,”
Kazane said. She lifted her teacup and took a careful sip.

“That’s because he’s an asshole, like you,” Nao responded sharply.

Kazane poured him a cup of tea. Chamomile, he recognized the smell. Probably no real reason for
it, though.

Nao sighs, massaging his temple with a dry cough. “So what do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Kazane had the fucking gall to immediately answer, sipping her own tea carefully.
Before Nao could throw flower liquid at her though, she continued, “I’m just after a target, and the
target was stalking you.”

“The only one stalking me here is you,” Nao cut right in. “Stop sending me care packages already,
I’m a grown man.”

“That’s my husband,” her who-- How is she answering so quickly? Is expert conversational ability
part of her array of insane skills or something? “And yes you are getting stalked by my target. So I
just grabbed you instead. It’ll be annoying if he uses you as leverage once I corner him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I just want you out of my way.”

“You don’t even care about me.”

“Which is why I want you out of my way.”

“Seriously, fuck you.”

Kazane’s expressions didn’t change throughout the whole conversation.

Her gaze was fixed forward, her shoulders remained at ease, and she only turned away briefly to
give some attention to her cup.

Nao hadn’t touched his tea yet. But he didn’t stand up and try to leave, either. He didn’t know
where he was-- or where the exit was. The room was only illuminated by a single lamp between
them.
(How long has it been since they last met?)

(He’s surprised he even remembered her face. Hard to prevent that, since they had the same face,
same eyes, and same hair colour. She had a tauter gaze, a sharper jaw, thinner fingers-- but those
were the only things that made them different.)

(Nao looked so much more like her than her twin, and he hated it so, so much.)

“The Reaper, right?” he said, finally lifting the tea to his lips. It would explain why the reaper gave
him some attention last time.

Kazane fiddled with a phone in her free hand. “Yes, that’s the one.”

(She’s not even going to pretend to be surprised that I know the Reaper?)

Nao looked around. They were in some dilapidated building-- was Kazane going to keep him in
here until the situation was over, or…? Where even are they, anyway?

And why was she after the Reaper? They’re both in the same field, so maybe a difference in
opinions?

“You most likely caught his eye because you look like me,” Kazane said. “I apologize.”

Nao paused. That was the first time Kazane had initiated conversation, rather than answer a
question. And it was an apology?

“Why are you apologizing?” he accidentally sounded more offended than he intended.

If she didn’t value their relationship, she would’ve changed her face. If she didn’t care about Nao--
she wouldn’t be doing this. She would instead be using him as bait, and using him as a stepping
stone to get her target.

She was a shitty liar and she damn fucking well knew that much.

Kazane didn’t answer. Didn’t humour him with a response.

Instead, she set her phone down, showing a display of the students-- and they were in a prison cell.
All of them, including the very octopus himself.

Karasuma was on the other side of the prison, with Irina and the Reaper himself-- confrontational,
minutes away from a punch.

“It’s downstairs from here,” she said.

The Reaper fucking Arc is literally happening a couple floors below? Is that what she’s saying?
They're in the same goddamn building? What in the suicidal everloving maniacal master plan of
actual bullshit--

“They haven’t noticed us yet, so don’t start yelling,” she added.

What in the actual fuck.

“How?” Nao immediately asked, and he dreaded the answer. There’s no way the World’s Greatest
damn Assassin hasn’t noticed he’s been tailed this closely. Right?

Kazane tilted her head aside, squinting an eye in exasperation, like the answer was obvious.

“He’s been obsessed with you,” Kazane said, sounding mildly disgusted. “Changed your table
flowers. Stood on the road you passed by in school so he could wave at you, and murdered people
who tried to pickpocket you. He had your routine down and everything. He made sure the coffee
maker was always loaded and refilled for you.”

Nao blinked. He… honestly hadn’t noticed any of that.

Then his face burned bright red, because the only way Kazane would even know that much detail
would be if she was watching all of it.

“He’s really good at getting exactly one step ahead of me, but with you around, I finally got the
chance to get one step ahead of him,” Kazane massaged her temples in frustration. “Seriously, is
attracting dangerous individuals a genetic thing?”

(Nao is not going to ask about that.)

Nao groaned into his palm. “But doesn’t that just mean he won’t harm me?” He’s not going to
think about what any of his actions mean. “I’ll be fine, right?”

Kazane finally cracked out a laugh. “Okay, then, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait, no. I’m scared.”

Nao froze immediately after he said that, burying his face in his hands.

“But if you got me all the way here, that must mean you wanted my help, didn’t you?” Nao
challenged again. “This situation will settle even without you or me doing anything. So if you just
wait--”

“No, I can’t let the government get their hands on the Reaper,” Kazane said. “Definitely not that
white-hooded bastard. I have to take him in on our side.”

The emphasis on our, not in the both of them, but in her, and whoever is behind and beyond her.

The underground.

(Oh, Omerta, Nao realized. The code of silence.)

(The Mafia community want to capture the Reaper on their own terms, without bringing any
attention of this to the general public.)

“And you need my help because of that?” Nao asked.

Kazane smiled. “Can you do it, baby brother?”

Nao gained nothing from this. This isn’t a negotiation, isn’t even a coercion. She’s asking a favour,
from one old friend to another. It wasn’t hitman-like at all.
Nao couldn’t read her at all. Couldn’t understand a single thing she was saying.

(Why was she pretending to care?)

“Just this once,” he relented. “Promise you’ll never contact me again.”

Kazane’s lips lift into a smirk. “Of course. What use do I have for you after this?”

(Nao pretends not to notice the microexpressions, the way her eyes fell for just a second, her lips
sank for just a moment, and her fingers hesitated with a sadness that didn’t exist in her cold words.)

The explosions take out the ceiling, and Karasuma is left at a pause when Irina gets crushed under
the debris.

“The Reaper is headed for the control room, but he’s not going to flood the lower room,” Nao
folded up the sleeves of his suit, “the kids are going to disappear from their cell, and he’ll double
back to the hallway where he’ll fight Karasuma again.”

Kazane stared at him. “And you know this, how?”

Nao didn’t answer her. “Do you want the information or not?”

Kazane hummed. With a wave, she left the room, and Nao followed behind her. “I’m not
complaining. Keep going.”

Nao never felt quite at ease around the man known as the Reaper. But he knew that the Reaper was
kind, at least to the flowers and what the flowers stood for.

The Reaper entered the control room-- and stopped right there.

Nao didn’t quite know what to expect. It was the same face-- the man who gave him white orchids
on his way to school, the gentle person that smiled at him as they spoke.

It was the same face right now too-- but somehow, the man who handled flowers with such care
was nowhere to be found.

At least, until his eyes fell on Nao.

“Oh, it’s you,” he addresses, his posture immediately-- expertly-- moving into casualness, his eyes
softening and his face muscles easing with his breaths. “What a coincidence, sir. What are you
doing here?”

Nao would have laughed.

He ran a hand around the control room, finding curious purchase in the many buttons.

There was no security footage on the cameras-- it was all on the tablet the Reaper was holding--
but Nao gestured toward them anyways.

“I thought I’d be able to watch everything that was happening, but guess not,” he chuckled. “Come
to think of it, I’ve never told you my name, have I? I’m--”

“Kunomasu Naomasa, I know,” the Reaper spoke over him.

He stepped forward, his smile growing into the confident, unapproachable one that made Nao
tense right up.

“How curious. You’re waltzing in, so confidently,” he approached, “did you think you could stand
up to me or something? Or that I would go easy on you simply because you’re not a competent
fighter like your students?”

(If you already know I’m an enemy, why are you acting friendly, you naive idiot?)

“Do you think--”

Nao briefly noticed a knife. Maybe he noticed the swing. Maybe he counted the two quicker steps
the Reaper took. Maybe he felt the knife as it neared his neck, sinking into flesh.

And maybe he tensed up then, and did absolutely nothing.

The Reaper’s knife stopped right there.

“--do you really think my little interest in you would stop me from killing you right here?” he
asked, his voice confused, but very quiet.

Nao’s breath still held.

“No,” he admitted. He thought he was going to die. “You’re a professional, after all.”

“Then why aren't you dodging?”

Nao smiled. “I just like to watch the flowers.”

“Then no hard feelings,” the Reaper didn’t look Nao in the eye. “You’re in my way.”

The knife sank deeper.

Cut through flesh, drew blood-- but before the pain could hit, a chain shot out and snatched the
Reaper’s hand by the wrist, dragging it back.
Another chain whirled around the Reaper’s neck, and though he grabbed it before it tightened too
far around his neck, the chains spun and whirled him toward the perpetrator with a fierce glare.

“I said to be a distraction,” Kazane said, her words biting in Nao’s direction, “I didn’t expect you to
be that useless. Who told you to go get hurt?”

Nao scoffed, a hand pressed around his rapidly bleeding neck. It wasn’t too deep, surprisingly
enough. It’s a flesh wound.

“Did you tell me to dodge?” he choked out with a laugh. “Must’ve missed the memo.”

“Windy,” the Reaper addressed. His expressions were still calm as his eyes lit up in feigned
surprise. “So you two have made contact. This is unfortunate. It is out of my expectations and I’m
not quite a fan. You do look quite alike. Is he your rumoured second wind?”

“No. Far from it. This is a civilian.”

“Really? How unfortunate, then.”

Something cracked under the Reaper’s feet-- and an explosion broke the floor beneath him. In a
yelp and a loss of footing, the chains loosened-- and with unimaginable force-- the Reaper broke
them apart.

“Try to catch me some other time, enforcer. I’ve got no time for that now.”

The dust cleared and the Reaper was gone, having escaped down the floor below. Kazane sighed,
inspecting her own shattered weapon.

Nao slumped against the chair, still trying to staunch his own wound with annoyance.

“You’re not so competent yourself, milady,” he slurred, sarcastic. "You got me all the way here,
for about three seconds of capture? Tell me that was a wasted effort."

Kazane snorted at that.

“Don’t be so cheeky. I marked him, so I can get him any time now,” she justified, “do you know
how big of a deal it is, catching the Reaper even for a second? He would have showed that
vulnerability to no one else."

Nao scoffed, disbelieving.

“Don’t be cheeky you say,” Nao repeated, dumbfounded, “then you proceed to argue. Very
mature.”

“Hi there, kettle, do you want me to heal you or not?” Kazane threatens cheerfully. “Thanks for the
distraction, you sucked at it.”

“Fuck you. Did you really think I could do anything but immediately be killed? I’m facing a
professional assassin!” Nao snapped.
He pulled down his now stained shirt and watched as Kazane approached, glowing yellow in her
palm.

“What is that, magic?”

“Magic,” she said, obviously a lie. “It’s not anything you need to know.”

“Mafia bullshit,” Nao deemed.

“Mafia bullshit indeed,” she said. She removed her hand-- and Nao took a moment to realize his
wound was completely closed up. He didn’t even feel too nauseated by the blood loss. What in the
actual hell?

"Thanks for your cooperation," Kazane waved, leaving the room, this time with no intention to
have Nao follow her. “I’m leaving, so go grab your students and get them out of here,” she said.

And then, a smile on her way out.

“I’m just glad to see you’re doing well.”

Nao went out after her, but as he’d expected-- she was gone.

Nao scoffed, and waited in the control room until it was safe to go out.

If his siblings could just fuck out of his life and stop pretending they cared, he would have his
happiest last days on earth, really.

He sighed. He really didn’t expect to survive that, though.

He rested a hand on the wound area, where the blood was cold and sticky but still damp. He could
still feel the blade of the knife sinking in.

He wouldn’t have complained if he died right there. He knew his sister wouldn’t let him die there,
and it just wasn’t that time yet. But he didn’t expect the Reaper to stop it himself, either, in the
pretense of a conversation.

(He’s obsessed with you, Kazane had teased him.)

Nao groaned, burying his face in his elbow.

Chamomile.
 (Energy in adversity.)

Chapter End Notes

EDIT: Okay so I'm getting questions and confusions, so here's a rare note! If it's too
long, just read the bold text haha.

1. is this a KHR (Katekyo Hitman Reborn) crossover? NOT REALLY.

I've already alluded to a shared universe in a previous chapter, but this is ultimately
NOT a crossover fanfiction. Much like how Nao primarily interacts with the assassins
and abnormalities in the assassination classroom, Kazane interacts with that side. But
we are reading Nao's story, not Kazane's. Thus, we don't need to learn more. As
Kazane says in this chapter-- it's magic. That's all we need to know. Nao doesn't want
to know anything about it either.

2. any more KHR elements coming? NO.

Absolutely not. I'm not giving anyone in the AC world the flames, and I'm sure as hell
not going to introduce any of the other characters from the KHR universe.

3. This story is meant to be read as an Assassination Classroom fanfic, so it is

meant to be read fine even if you know absolutely nothing about KHR.

That is all I have to say! Have a nice day.

 the orchids on my table.
Chapter Summary

Nao reunites with the kids. The kids panic because he is an idiot.

In other news, the reaper just wants to talk to him, one last time.

Nao hummed, fiddling with the phone.

He rested a hand at his neck, and he wondered how hard it was to get dried blood off of a dress
shirt. Cotton he'd know, but getting it off this fabric would be kinda rough.... Is this what bleach
was invented for?

"What the-- Kuma-sensei?"

Ah, he's here.

Turning into the room, he waved at the kids, including Korosensei, who all looked incredibly
horrified to see him there.

"Hey, kids! Having fun in there?" he greeted, ignoring the flabbergasted looks that went from his
hand to his neck, then back to his bloody hand.

Nao turned toward the distance, where he could distinctly make out Karasuma and the Reaper
fighting. Huh, he won already? They had been celebrating Karasuma's victory up until the very
minute they all noticed Nao.

The kids were all crowded at the bars now, a few making a real effort to try and burn a hole in him
with their eyes and the other half either looking mortified or making an effort to try and fuse
through the bars of the cell.

"So yeah, I got a hold of the thing to open this cage," Nao turned back to his phone. "Don't ask me
how. I want to forget."

"Kuma-sensei?!? SIR PLEASE??"

"The blood? The BLOOD??"

"Why are you here, even? How did you find us?"

"We don't care about the switch, okay WHAT IS THAT BLOOD?!"

"Hey c'mon now," Nao tried to coax them to back up a little, taking a moment to hide his bloodier
hand, "if you make so much noise, you're going to distract Mister Karasuma. That's dangerous."

"Kuma-sensei, all due respect," Terasaka approached the bars with a look of death in his eyes, "just
answer the question."
"Ah right. Sorry," nice bloodlust.

Korosensei's face was a heavy black, but his smile was firm, his eyes furrowed just so slightly.
"Did that assassin over there do that to you?"

"I'm unharmed!" Nao said first. "As for why I'm here, I was having tea with an old acquaintance.
Nearby. Then would you believe me if I say I stumbled across this place accidentally?"

"Not at all," came the unanimous answer.

"Yep, figured," Nao sighed, opening the cage doors and immediately getting drowned by a whole
pool of worried junior high children.

And while the group of children fervently searched him for injuries, Karasuma made his way over
in a panic, leaving the Reaper's body in the water. Irina was behind him as well, similarly flustered.

"What on earth, Kunomasu!" he raised his voice.

"Hi, fellow man who almost died," Nao greeted dryly, "I do not want to be here either. And before
you ask, no, I'm not completely suicidal yet."

"Yet?"

"...I just want you to know, Kunomasu, that sometimes the only thing between your skull and my
knee is my rational thinking," Karasuma said, and it was the most genuine promise of violence
Nao had ever heard directly to his face.

"That makes me feel very secure," Nao spent the rest of the time hiding behind Kanzaki.

"There really isn't a wound," Okuda inspected the wound. Cleaning it with a wet rag only revealed
a gentle scar that would only be visible in certain angles. "But this blood is yours, isn't it?"

"Does it make sense that it healed so quickly?"

"Absolutely not."

"Were you hiding that wound, then?" someone accused, "we're really mad, Kuma-sensei. What the
hell were you thinking, coming here?"

"No, it's definitely not an old wound or anything," another argued, "it wasn't there before. So spill,
Kuma-sensei, what did you do? What secret magic did you tap into?"

"Is this a 'transported to the other world for a fight and then when you get back you're about half
healed' sort of anime situation?"

"What is that, Fuwa?"

"Uh. Dream-Eater Merry, among other things."

"That anime's ancient."

"No it isn't. It came out in 2011."

"That was like, ten years ago."

"No. This sentence is being written in 2021, but our manga ended in 2015, and now we're talking
about 2011. Time doesn't exist, and neither do we. We're in a fanfic."

"What the-- stop that."

"Let's just go back to the conspiracy theories we have regarding Kuma-sensei's mysterious wounds.
Please."

"So is Dream-Eater Merry just Wonder Egg Priority but you get healing as a free bonus?"

"No what the heck? No! Wonder Egg Priority is the thief! Like, people call its concept some work
of genius, but aren't they just shoving Madoka, Yuki Yuna, Dream-eater Merry, and Precure and I
don't know, Selector Wixoss? Into one thing and calling it a day?"

"That sounds amazing."

"No."

"Yes. You just don't understand the show. I don't blame you, Terasaka."

"Excuse you?!"

"Also I was gonna ask 'why precure' but now that I think about it I don't see much difference in
conceptual theming between the Despairborgs and Wonder Killers."

"Stop it. Stop it before we get roasted to bits in the comments section. Please!"

"Kuma-sensei, hurry up and answer before the nerds launch into an anime debate," Sugino whirled
over to hurriedly usher the conversation forward.

Nagisa looked upon the chaos in wonder. "Takebayashi and Fuwa I'll understand, why is Terasaka
fighting about the originality of magical girl anime?"

And then all at once, all three of them whirl around to yell, "Wonder Egg isn't a magical girl
anime!" and Fuwa hurriedly adds, "and neither is Dream-eater!"

"Right. Right! I'm sorry!"

Deciding to take pity on the absolutely horrendous flow of conversation (Nao sent a wordless
apology to the eyes in the sky,) Nao spun the conversation back to him.

"Oh uh, hey, I got kidnapped, okay," Nao defended himself. "And by the way guys, do you have
dangerous relatives? Take Kuma-sensei's word for it and just cut them out of your life. Like, do it
at all costs, as soon as possible, right away. I give wise advice. Very wise advice."

"What are you talking about?"

"Kidnapped?"

"Kidnapped but by who? The Reaper? But they didn't use you as a hostage."

"No, not the Reaper," Nao looked worriedly toward Korosensei and Karasuma and even Irina,
trying to ask for help-- but none of them were going to help him. They wanted the explanation just
as much as everyone else. "Someone else."

"Who?"

"Stop being cryptid, Kuma-sensei!"

"Yeah, answer us already! Or we'll hate you!"

"Yeah, I'll drop you down from my favourite to second favourite!"

With the mess of the people hounding him for answers, Nao laughs, insisting it was a secret he
wasn't allowed to tell. Irina eventually joins in the hounding, and there's a hug at the end, where she
sighs and whines about her broken arm and how Nao was the only man that cared about her.

(Then Karasuma showed up with a rose and a bitter word of what might have been an awkward
confession of fondness, and she was so happy she could fuel a power plant for days on excitement
alone.)

No one notices the Reaper's body disappear until it's too late.

(Did he escape? No. Nao knew he didn't. They didn't see who did it, when, and where-- but she left
no traces and was gone immediately.)

(And Nao knew he would never see her again.)

The government comes in to clean up the situation. The perpetrator was gone, which would
eventually be deemed a cold case and the government will wash their hands out of the situation
soon-- at least, according to Karasuma.

The students reconcile (very loudly) with Irina, and Korosensei presents an ultimatum for the sake
of the students' safety.

"Let's go home," Nao rested a hand on Kanzaki and Nagisa's shoulders. "I'm sure you kids are all
exhausted today. You did great."

"Were you watching?" Kurahashi asked.

Nao shook his head. "But we're all alive, aren't we? That's enough."

And really-- it was such a relief that they could all go home together today as well. People don't
value that sometimes.
Nao refilled the coffee machine in the staffroom, fixing up a cup for himself. The students were
busy with career counselling-- it was probably the thing that was most obviously meant for Nao,
but Korosensei had insisted on taking it himself.

Karasuma had gone to the government to get some papers sorted, and Irina had excused herself for
a late autumn shopping spree.

So now, Nao was alone.

He sat at the sofa by the window, watching the white orchids on his table. Some were slightly
wilted, others drooped. It was about time to change them again.

"What flowers should I put in them next?" he wondered to himself.

"Will you be changing them? I'm sorry, I only brought orchids again."

Nao choked on his coffee.

It erupted into an actual coughing fit, and by the time he'd realized he'd gotten a stain on his sleeve,
he was looking up to see the Reaper with a smile on his face, holding onto Nao's coffee for him.

"Are you alright, Naomasa-san?"

First name basis, huh.

"I thought K-- I mean, Windy, took you in," Nao said, taking the coffee once again.

"She did," the Reaper said, gesturing toward something that looked like a shackle on his left wrist.
"I've got about ten minutes before zombies in chains come to grab me. It's better than being stuck
in government custody."

Nao blinked at that. Well, he won't question that. It's probably something in relation to Kazane, and
he'd already decided he wasn't getting involved.

What's supposed to happen from here?

(The Reaper is supposed to be restrained and kept in government custody-- and then Shiro comes
by to kidnap him and turn him into a monster for the final confrontation.)

(But Kazane's an outlier. If she gets involved-- canonical events will change.)

(So if she takes the Reaper into prison now... will the final confrontation still occur? Probably
not. Is that alright? He isn't sure.)

There's no way this greatest Assassin is going to let himself be captured... right?

"So when are you going to escape?" Nao asked, wincing through his hurting throat to take another
sip of coffee.

"Ah, I suppose you wouldn't know," Reaper smiles, "I'm going to the world's most secure prison, so
secure that even speaking of its existence is illegal. There's no escape from there. I've given up."
(Then why did you just tell me?!?)

"Huh? Wait, why?" Nao had to put the cup down. No, did this guy, the final goddamn villain, just
say he was going to retire or something? Nao must be hearing things.

The Reaper simply smiles.

This is making less and less sense.

Well, to be fair, that mafia justice system must be on a whole other tier of power levels... but really.

"You wanted to do something, didn't you? Wanted to prove a point? You're just going to give up
after everything, after doing nothing?" Nao should not know anything about the Reaper. But he
asked it anyway, as someone that knew it all. "Aren't you frustrated?"

The reaper's only wish in life was to be seen by the man he respected. He was Korosensei's first
mistake, and a mistake Korosensei will take with him to the grave.

"Frustration is a feeling that's foreign to me," the Reaper simply picks up the flowers on the table,
changing the water and setting in the fresh, colourful orchids.

"That's a lie."

"I kill anyone that gets in my way. I simply wanted to continue doing it beautifully, that was it," he
said. "I adore beautiful, fragile things. I like to prune them, and watch them bloom, even for a short
while."

"And I like watching the flowers you tender," Nao said.

The Reaper smiled. "You're not so bad at conversation yourself."

"Don't change the subject," Nao returned immediately.

This made the conversation stilt immediately. The reaper's smile faded, just so slightly, and the
sunset shone through the window, just so auburn in the evening time.

"Why did you look at me that day?"

The question wasn't a surprise.

If Nao didn't stop in the middle of the road-- didn't strike up a conversation-- he would have never
caught the reaper's attention.

"I was surprised," Nao admitted. "I recognized you."

The reaper hummed at that. Saying that he recognized this man that peeled off his face to be the
Master of Disguise was very baffling, but he didn't question it.
"Is that so? Who exactly did you recognize?"

A murderer. An assassin. Someone who would kill at a wrong word choice.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Nao said. "I knew who you were, but I'd never seen you before.
You're not exactly helpful in that department."

After all, the reaper only ever showed up when he wanted to.

"People don't tend to want to see me," the reaper said, "I'm a murderer after all. The only people
that see me are my victims."

Nao smiled. "And yet, here I am."

The reaper turned away at that.

"And that's not true," Nao added, taking a sip of his coffee. He looked toward the vase, "I see you
on my table every morning."

The reaper blinked at that.

"I am not the flowers," he said, confused.

"But it is your heart, and your sincerity," Nao insisted.

"I don't believe I have any of that in me," he argued.

Nao stood up. He lifted just one stalk of orchid in his hands, holding it out toward the sun rays,
watching the light slither around each curve of its pure white petals.

"Then you have spent too long looking out, that you've forgotten how to look inward," Nao said,
reaching forward to cradle a petal. "You've spent so long alone. Has no one been around to remind
you how to breathe?"

The reaper fell silent.

When Nao turned to face him, the reaper looked away.

"Well," the reaper let out something of a very tight breath, his shoulders sagging as he turned away.
"Wow."

Nao folded his arms before him, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Nothing."

Nao huffed at that, dropping the orchid back into the vase. "So, you're just going to be stuck in jail
for the rest of your life?" he asked.

"Until they feel like letting me out," the reaper answered, "I've killed many mafiosi and I'm hated
virtually across the board. I suppose jail would be a nice place to live in comparison."
Nao picked up his coffee again, taking a considerate sip. "That sucks."

The reaper beamed. "It does!"

This didn't sound good. But then again, maybe it was for the better that the reaper doesn't show up
to the final confrontation. It would be sad-- but he would live, even in hell.

Living, huh.

(Why are you going to hell? Because you have no choice?)

(I thought you wanted more than anything to be seen by the one you admired. Are you fine, not
fulfilling that this time?)

Nao didn't voice those questions.

"Do you have regrets?" Nao asked.

The reaper smiled wryly at that. He leaned back against the cabinet, his eyes turning calmly back
to Nao. "Just one."

(To be seen, right?)

"That's a shame," Nao said instead. But at least the reaper knew exactly what he wanted in life.
Nao wasn't too sure about it.

"Indeed it is," the reaper looked away-- is that slight disappointment in his eyes?

Two minutes left.

"So... what's your name?" Nao finally questioned. "You had one, didn't you? Before you became...
what you are today."

He lived a normal life before becoming an assassin, if Nao remembered correctly.

The reaper blinked at that. "Why do you want to know?"

Nao didn't quite understand why his face heated up at that. "What the-- obviously because you
know mine!" he flustered, "you know all my basic information. My routine. What the hell. It's
creepy!"

The reaper seemed baffled by that sudden outburst, but Nao continued.
"I just-- well," Nao groaned, "I want to know you too. Because it's embarrassing that you know so
much about me and I don't know anything about you, personally."

(I want to know who you are, outside of your assassin persona.)

(Just like the flowers-- I want to see the person underneath it all.)

Just one thing would be fine. It would, after all-- be the last time they ever talk. There would be no
more flowers for the road, no more orchids on the table, no more wry smiles and cryptid
conversations.

The reaper's eyes softened at that.

In a genuine-- saddened way.

"I don't have a name I identify with anymore," he said. "How about you give me one?"

Huh?

"Don't put me on the spot like that," Nao said, irritated.

The reaper laughs at that. A short, bubbly series of chuckles, and his eyes squint just a little when
his lips curl up and his cheeks fill the space between.

He looked happy, despite his last minute of freedom.

Nao didn't know how to feel about this. He never truly knew.

He was always the 'regret and melancholy' sort. He thought about things in depth after it happened,
not while it went on. He's never the 'act now and be expressive' sort, and that's why he tended to do
nothing.

"I like to watch the flowers," Nao admitted, turning toward the orchids. "I'll miss them when you're
gone."

The reaper stepped forward, holding out a hand.

Nao's eyes lingered on the orchids for a moment, before he took the hand, and took in everything.
In the bouquet of orchids-- they were colourful this time, not just white-- so there was a yellow-
orange one between them as well.

The reaper's eyes were gentle and amber.

The same colour.

"Ran, for the orchids," Nao suggested. "How about that?"

His eyes widened a little in surprise-- but quickly filled over with sheer overwhelming sadness, and
for a second, Nao thought he saw the traces of a tear that was quickly blinked away.

When the reaper spoke again, his voice was trembling.

"Thank you."

Immediately, he vanished, the wind taking him through the windows, the darkness forcing a blink
from Nao and making him turn away-- just in time to see the last scatter of a petal in his wake.

He was gone.

Korosensei bursts into the room, doors slamming open and absolutely uncomposed, looking around
frantically and taking Nao's hands checking for injuries of any sort.

"Kunomasu-sensei!" he yells, "what was that? There was something here-- someone! They're gone-
- I don't believe it! Are you alright?"

Nao bursts into laughter at that, and his half-hearted attempts to assure Korosensei did little to ease
the sheer panic that erupted in the classroom when Korosensei reported their unwanted visitor.

They ended up taking shifts standing guard, just in case he came back-- but Noa knew he wouldn't.

(The Reaper spent his life trying to prove himself to his mentor-- but he'd already surpassed
Korosensei, long ago.)

(He never found acknowledgement, and Korosensei will never be able to stop regretting-- but he
found himself, and that was something.)

"Hey, octopus," Nao turned to Korosensei, "wanna go for drinks tonight? My treat."

Korosensei calmed right down at that, face brimming to yellow and green stripes. "Oh? I'm
immune to poisons, but you're suggesting we drink? That doesn't bode well for your wallet, does
it?"

"Then, forget it."

"No no, no take backs!"

Nao was going to rant the everloving hell out of himself today. And Korosensei could do it too, if
he wanted. They were going to talk the story of a sad man only they ever knew, and they were
going to cry their hearts out.

And then they're going to move on, and then the world is going to continue spinning.

(Kazane always saw through Nao right away. Kazu did too.)
(Nao hated that he was being seen, in their eyes.)

(But if he lost that someday-- maybe it would hurt.)

Nao hoped that Ran would someday find people who could see him too.
 doing these things, together.
Chapter Summary

The cultural festival is a time of cooperation.

Nagisa can't overcome his struggles without the help of Korosensei. Nao can't get up
the mountain without the help of his students. Gakushuu can't be at ease until the
entirety of Class A is looking toward a unanimous goal.

So they do these things together, and that's what's so beautiful about school life.

“Sorry,” Nao coughed harshly into his pillow, lifting his head weakly to choke out his next words
into his phone. “Can’t make it. I’m dying.”

And then he hung up.

He will interest himself in the thoughts of the school going ballistic while he tries to fall asleep
again.

(Later, Isogai came by with a care package and warm tea, so that was nice.)

Apparently, Nagisa was in trouble with his mother and the understandably common E-class
dilemma of being pressured into returning to campus, so there was a parent-teacher conference
arranged. Nao had to go, he should be going, since he’s literally the one in charge and approving--
but hey, he can’t go when he’s coughing up a lung, can he?

Well, even Nagisa’s mother will have to accept if they say Nao’s absent. Everyone knows about
Nao’s condition in this town, and she’s met him before.

(“Huh?” Nao takes a slow sip of his tea. “You’re going to make him disguise as Karasuma-san
instead? Wow, you guys sure love chaos.”)

(“You don’t have any right to say that to us, Kuma-sensei!” Isogai says, brightly.)

The problem with Nagisa is fixed as soon as the day comes. Korosensei had it handled, and Nagisa
seemed to walk straighter the next day, greeting with a smile, like his shoulders were no longer
heavy from the weight of the world upon his shoulders.

(“Get well soon, Kuma-sensei,” Isogai stands up, getting ready to leave. “I’m sure everyone wants
to share their career choices with you too, not just with Korosensei.”)

(Nao chuckles. "I try my best.")

Nao enjoyed his wagon-ride up the mountain, tasting a macaron that Hara, also sitting in the
wagon for some reason, was too eager to share with him.

“This is really good,” Nao savoured every bite, because holy heck these were hard to bake and
resident class Mom nailed them.

“Really? I might start selling them in my aunt’s bakery.”

“Do it, do it. They’ll be an amazing sale.”

Kimura and Yoshida were suffering, since they had to lug an adult man and a girl on the heavier
side up the mountain at once, but neither of them complained. Kimura was pushing from behind
and Yoshida had the front, struggling to pull.

Okajima and Fuwa were beside them, cheering them on.

“Stand up! STAND UP, JOOOOOEEE!!” At some point, Fuwa started shouting like a frantic
boxing coach, because Yoshida crumbled and wanted to give up.

“I’m not in the mood for some of your references right now Fuwwaaaa!!!” Kimura grunts,
shoveling on forward. “Yoshida get up, before my arms give in! Please hurry!”

Eventually, Karma and Terasaka walk in on the morons, and with their help, they make it up the
mountain.

“Seriously, Karma, where do you store your strength in those twig arms?”

“My arms aren’t twigs, you’re thinking of Nagisa.”

“Your arms are definitely twigs.”

Nao and Hara continue to talk about macarons in the wagon itself, completely undeterred by the
drama around them. Nao adjusts the navy scarf around his neck, looking toward the skyline-- and
sighs, content.

“Isn’t that scarf the one Ritsu made?” Kataoka approaches, walking along the wagon as Kayano
and Nakamura hurry alongside, greeting cheerfully.

Nao cradles the wool in his hands and smiles. “It is. Nice, isn’t it?”

Ritsu had finally deemed a scarf ‘perfect enough’ to be worn by Nao, and with autumn rearing its
chilly head, Nao supposed it was fine to start wearing it daily.

“I’m digging it,” Nakamura smirked, observing with narrowed eyes, framing it with her fingers like
a photograph, “give me a killer smile, Bishounen Sensei!”

“Eh?” Nao flustered instead, “oh, don’t,” he covered his face, only to come right in the face of
Kurahashi’s camera-- no wait, that’s Okajima’s, but Kurahashi is holding it-- as it flashed right in
his face.

Kurahashi cheered, “I got a picture!”

“Unsolicited pictures are not allowed!” Nao argued, blushing furiously, “and Okajima, I told you
not to bring your camera to class!”
“I can’t live without peeking in the girl’s locker room at least once a day, though.”

“Okajima-kun, meet me in my office after this, and bring the bleach.”

“SCARY!”

“The school is in sight!” Karma interrupted to dramatically declare, somehow finding himself a
spot in the corner of the wagon to rest as he pointed forward, “onward, my minions!”

“Karma, GET OUT!” yelled Terasaka, absolutely feral.

When the girls burst into laughter at their expense, Nao couldn’t help but join in as well. Someone
drags Karma out of the wagon, and then Nao and Hara get out to let Terasaka, Yoshida, and
Kimura into the wagon as they force Karma to drag them up the rest of the way.

It was just too much fun.

Autumn meant the cultural festival was upon them.

The forests were golden, browned by the rich winds and christened with the coming of harvest.
The bouquet of flowers in his arms seem dull against the bounty of the mountains, the crunch of
leaves under his shoes quiet against the life of students, foraging across the hills in search of the
treasures of the woods.

“Kuma-sensei, try one!”

Nao turned toward the door when the class came by with a small bowl of their freshly-made menu.
The cooks of the classroom had long approved them, but somehow, they still wanted Nao’s
opinion.

“The food is good, but…” he took a sip of the sweet juice, inspecting the prototype menu. “Sugaya
designed this, right? What about the pictures?”

“Okajima’s working on those.”

“So we’re just missing the food descriptors, huh…” Nao considered the options, “Kayano and
Hazama, how about you work on the food descriptions together?”

“Eh??” came the rather explosive reaction.

Nao did not expect that. “Wh- What’s wrong with that?”

The two in question give each other an awkward side look, before Kayano chuckles nervously. “I
don’t mind!”

Hazama nods, “I don’t either, but…”

“But sensei, you’re having the class’s most polar opposites work together,” Okajima emphasized.
“Like, the only further you can go is if you asked Kurahashi instead.”
Ah, true.

But Kanzaki and Kataoka are on the gathering team, and Yada is on the service team… so these
two were quite literally the only ones he had left that he wanted to leave it up to.

“Won’t you try working together anyway? Having conflicting interests in a project is something
you guys will need to learn to work through in the future, anyway.”

The two looked at each other again, but this time their gazes lingered longer.

“Well,” Hazama says, “I suppose your mere presence would greatly decrease the need for research
on dessert descriptors.”

“Oh, that is definitely one thing I’m entirely confident about!” Kayano grins.

The class looked over at them and sighed. They supposed, with Kayano’s dedication to simplicity
and Hazama’s abundance of dramatisation, they might actually manage to achieve a good balance.

“It goes for all of you as well,” Nao turns to the class, “it’s fine to have fun, but if you try to work
together with people you don’t usually work with… sometimes, the results can be surprising.”

“Gah, Kuma-sensei, you’re going to turn this into a lecture again?”

“No complaints, you’re the ones that came to me,” Nao chuckled, finishing the soup of his acorn
ramen with a smile.

If the efforts of this motley classroom could make something as wholesome and fulfilling as this
single bowl of ramen-- then Nao couldn’t wait to see what other beautiful things could come of
different combinations.

(Ah…)

(...has Nao, too, personally, contributed anything significant to this classroom? Something
invisible, something so woven into the seams, he himself would never notice as long as he was
looking from the inside out?)

(He doesn’t know. He’s not sure.)

(But for now… just being here is enough for him.)

“So, who’s the crazy little kid that went and got sponsors?”
“It’s okay, I’m dealing with all the paperwork on my own.”

“Exactly. You’re insane. Give them to me.”

“What? No. You’re not even my teacher.”

The 3-A classroom was empty. They rented a hall for their activities, so this classroom was to be
used as a waiting room on the day itself. Right now, though, most of the students were working in
the hall, decorating-- and Gakushuu was here, dealing with the leftover paperwork.

“I’m impressed. I thought you’d take full advantage of the Chairman’s insane credit, but you’re not
really spending as much as I’d thought,” Nao mused, inspecting the budget list.

“Hey, give that back!” Gakushuu lunged for it, but Nao raised it just a little too high for Gakushuu,
who was sitting down. “I’m still doing the calculations! Now I’ll have to start over.”

“Oh, my bad,” Nao smiled, mischievously. “Guess you should’ve written them down instead of
doing it all in your head. How about you let me handle them instead?”

“Absolutely not. Please go home, Kuma-sensei.”

Relenting, Nao set the papers back down, pulling a chair by to look into Gakushuu’s laptop, at the
letters he was working on. There were a variety of things, from sponsorship agreement contracts, to
letters of invitations, requests toward entertainment centers, and various release forms for the ones
who were performing.

“I’m surprised you know what all of those are,” Nao says, looking through a release form for an
idol group. “You’re going to use footage for advertising?”

“Of course. What use is that huge wall on the school entrance if we don’t project the best thing
that’s happening in school grounds on the day?” Gakushuu says, picking up a pencil to write down
calculations for the budget list.

Nao chortled, “posters, Asano-kun,” he says, “but well, if you balance between your content and
the content of the other festival highlights, it might be a good thing to practice for the following
years.”

Gakushuu hums, some sort of conversation-ending attempt that Nao picked up on immediately.

Nao rested his elbows on the table, his chin against a palm as he stared at Gakushuu.

“Want me to proofread those letters?”

“No,” immediate answer.

“Too bad,” Nao’s hand crawled toward the laptop, “this here. I know you’re using the same format
for most of them because they won’t notice anyways, but for the thank you letters, do a little
better.”

“I said no,” Gakushuu sneered, but he leaned over anyway, checking the document and adding a
few new lines about ensuring their equipment would be prepared accordingly. “How about you
fuss about Class E instead?”

“Class E has a teacher dealing with the guidance already.”

“What about paperwork?”

“Minimal. We’re self-sufficient on nearly everything we need.”

Gakushuu grimaced at that. “And they still think they can beat Class A with that? Great. I’ll just
crush them without any regrets.”

Nao simply smiled at that.

They worked into the night. It wasn’t as if they were the only ones-- there were some students
staying the night, and others worked into the night to make their decorations and props in time.

It wasn’t quiet at all in Kunugigaoka Junior High, just hushed.

Nao wished the Class E students could have enjoyed this sort of comfort as well-- a normal, day-
before of the cultural festival, where everyone worked to the bone getting things in order.

(But he supposed they enjoyed it anyway, up there on the mountain, together.)

(They can still find an amazing cultural festival experience when they’re in high school, so that was
something.)

“You’re a workaholic, aren’t you?” Nao teased.

Gakushuu took absolutely no offense in it. “I just like to do my best.”

He’s pulling all the stops, doing everything he can with all the connections he has-- because he
didn’t think Class E was an easy defeat.

“If I win without doing all I could… then it wouldn’t be me that won this war,” Gakushuu said. “If
I won without doing all this, then it would simply be the obvious difference in battlefields that
brought me this victory. I don’t want that kind of victory.”

If he went easy on Class E, they would lose. They already knew that.

So now he was pulling no punches, to honour Class E’s efforts. To prove that Class E needed this
much to be taken down.

“Tell them to come on up, so I can crush them beneath my feet,” Gakushuu said. “If they can’t
stand up against this much, they were never worth fighting to begin with, and I don’t like to be
proven wrong.”

Gakushuu was not fighting against them, but against the idea of them.

(Against his father’s ideology of them being entirely beneath them.)

“Plus this isn’t even the real fight!” Gakushuu slammed his hand against the desk, oddly riled up
now, “it’s literally an uphill battle for E Class. I can’t be satisfied just winning this,” he throws his
hands down dramatically, “I’m sure midterms was something like this too. It was too odd to be
true. But finals. Finals,” he stressed, his words turning into a hiss, “that’s when the fight is
real. That’s when.”

Nao smiled at his overly emotional spiel, kind of proud.

“Are you listening, Kuma-sensei?!” Gakushuu whirled on him.

“I am!” Nao beamed, too sunnily.

“Why are you so happy? This is my declaration of war to your homeroom!”

“I know! That’s exactly why I’m happy!”

“Take this seriously!”

“I promise, I am!”
 it's slow progress, but it'll become a mountain someday.
Chapter Summary

People are changing. In class E, in Class A, and the principal, as well.

The cultural festival ends, people begin gearing up for final exams, and Nao makes a
decision.

The cultural festival came and went.

Halfway through it, Kurahashi came by to beg for a headpat, because some creepy motherhecker
was being a creepy motherhecker. Thankfully, creep-annihilator on duty, Hayami, sniped him with
a countermeasure.

(“How long did it take for you guys to make… whatever that is... smell and look exactly like bird
poop?”)

(Okuda smiled, holding up a flask of something, “not very long!”)

Then a little after that, Nagisa came to seek solace, and Nakamura was around, begging for his
forgiveness.

(“Well, we can’t use the ‘eye for an eye’ tactic here,” Nao surmised, trying to decide on the
punishment. “How about Nakamura, put on full makeup and wear a dress?”)

(Nakamura recoiled, “anything but that! Please!”)

(Irina Jelavic, overhearing the scene, immediately took action. When someone called out a tone of
concern, she hollered back. “Don’t worry, I won’t put her in anything provocative. Tomboys like
her look best in modest dresses!”)

They got very unexpected visits as well. Red Eye the sniper brought a pheasant, an honest to
god pheasant, and Lovro came by to greet everyone and assure them he’s still alive.

(“I must say. You are a rather unsuspecting man, Kunomasu,” Lovro turned to Nao. “I did not
expect such an interesting secret from you.”)

(“It’s not a secret, I’m not related to whatever it is you’re talking about, and I have nothing to do
with anything! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Nao yelled, covering his ears in denial.)

(Karasuma simply hummed, providing an ample observation. “You can tell he’s flustered when he
doesn’t notice himself contradicting his own words multiple times in the same sentence.”)

(Lovro nodded. “I figured that was the case.”)

(Karasuma then turned to Lovro. “But what is it you were saying about him?”)
(Lovro chuckled. “Unfortunately, I cannot tell you that, Mister Karasuma. My apologies, do
understand.”)

(And then Karasuma will silently watch him leave, baffled. “...did he just pull the Omerta on me?
For Kunomasu?”)

And then Nagisa’s mother came by. So after she talked with her son, Nao went over to greet her, if
only to apologize for not being able to make it on their previous meeting.

(“It’s fine,” she said, looking forlornly toward her own son, as he hurried back toward the
classroom, being handed a broom while Sugino ruffled his head endearingly. “I learned a lot, and
there’s only so much more I have to learn from here.”)

(She had too little time, and too much to make up for.)

(“Do your best,” Nao told her. “You can call me if you ever need help.”)

Nao made his way down the mountain following the road of leaving customers and the guide of
the autumn leaves. He greets people occasionally, coughs when he thinks there aren’t people
looking, and finds his way back up a climb, into Kunugigaoka Junior High.

“Dear lord, I thought I was going to die.”

“For real. But that’s every time, right?”

“I’m surprised we didn’t. He looked like he was about to kill us when we were leaving.”

The Five Virtuosos, Nao recognized immediately, surprised to find them so near the entrance.
Gakushuu stood between them, quiet.

The moment Ren and Seo noticed Nao in the distance, they called out to him. What happened next
was a jumbled explanation of sorts, where they described the dramatic happening of Asano
Gakushuu talking back to his father Phase Three and how they all came within an inch of their life.

“I didn’t think the Board Chairman would try violence with us so it was fine,” Gakushuu insisted.
His arms were folded before him and Nao knew that was his tell for self-doubt, so yeah-- that was
a dangerous risk he took.

“He did ask us to stay after,” Ren shivered at the thought, and Nao perked up with interest. “Like,
he wanted to talk to us without Asano-kun around for a few minutes. Do you think we’d have died
if we stayed?”

Wait, what?

Asano told them to stay to talk and they didn’t?

(Damn, was he about to do his creepy brainwashing pep talk again?)

“I was the most surprised when he said nevermind and just dismissed us all instead,” Gakushuu
groaned. “What’s wrong with that man?”

“Dude, you tell us,” Natsuhiko cringed.

(Oh, so the Board Chairman himself decided against using his own superhuman skill? So he knows
how to hold back. This didn’t happen in the story though? So Nao’s talks with him are actually
doing something?)

(He’s actually working on himself. Thank the fucking lords.)

“So I don’t think it’s safe for you to go talk to him now, Kuma-sensei,” someone finally turned the
conversation back to Nao, it’s Araki. “We’re running away as soon as possible and I’m praying to
my altar so he won’t change his mind tomorrow either.”

Nao cracked out a short laugh at that.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he moved to pat them all on the head, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.
Trust me, okay? I’ll protect you kids, even if you’re not my class anymore.”

“No, we just said don’t?!” Ren yelped, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“You’re going to die, Kuma-sensei!”

Nao chuckled. “Go on home, you kids,” he assured them. “Students shouldn’t be obliged to keep
track of an adult’s moods. After a certain age, you’re supposed to be able to handle them
yourselves.”

They still looked uneasy.

“Then what happens if an adult can’t?” Ren asked.

Nao looked upward-- to where he found the principal’s office, and Principal Asano was looking in
his direction, quietly.

“Then it’s time for other adults to step in and try to help, of course.”

“So, sit with me?” Nao asked.

“You must ask that every time?” Asano sets down the cup of coffee. “I already know you won’t
leave even if I say no. Drink your coffee.”

The first time was a peace offering. Then the second came, and the third, and eventually they were
just friendly chats disguised as discussions of Class E and their current endeavours.

They used to do this E-class talks over a formal meeting, on opposite ends of Asano’s work table. It
was always stiff and nerve-wracking, and Nao always came out of it hating everything about his
personal choices.

Now, though, they did it side by side on the couch, an occasional spin of laughter between their
words– and Nao tended to go home feeling warm.

They worked on themselves.

And Asano reluctantly admitted to working on himself, every once in a while. Otherwise, he
refused, but Nao never forced the issue.

Counselling was a gradual event.

Asano is already keeping a notebook around, and there were about three less ‘I acted like humanity
was absolute garbage and I was proud of it, so what?’ strokes on the page than there were a month
ago, so Nao considered this a small victory.

The kids in Class A aree finding their own stances against the Board Chairman’s ideologies. The
people in the main campus have begun to grow an admiration for Class E. Even Nagisa’s mother is
trying to find the courage to take a different path.

People are changing, bit by bit.

It’s almost Asano’s turn, and Nao wants to see it soon.

“What are you going to do next?” Nao asks. “It’s almost time for finals– it’s your last chance.” to
win. To regain your stability as the one and only ruler of your regime. “Before you lose their
confidence completely.” If you hadn’t already.

“I’ll go all out,” Asano said, without missing a beat.

That didn’t sound assuring at all.

“And if you crash and burn?” Nao asked.

Asano hummed. He wasn’t sure, either. He would definitely have some reservations about it–
would he ever admit defeat? Never.

“Then you figure it out,” Asano said instead.

Nao couldn’t help but laugh. “My fees are high, sir.”

Asano scoffed. “I can bill the government. It’s health insurance, technically, and Karasuma has
made promises for the government to foot all of that.”

“Wow, you’re such a terrible human being.”

“So what?” Asano opened his notebook, and casually added a stroke to the page.
Nao stared at it in resignation.

It was time for the final battle between Asano and Korosensei. Nao already knew what was going
to happen, so he wasn’t worried– but he actually was a little.

“I’ll be personally teaching Class A’s entire curriculum,” Asano revealed. “But Gakushuu and his
group have been problematic. I’ll let them study independently, since they’re capable enough
without me.”

Nao frowned. “That’s counterproductive, they’re your best soldiers.”

“I don’t see your point. They’re against me– they do not follow my regime. Winning by
capitalizing on their strengths is not beneficial to me.”

Nao hummed noncommittally. That made sense…

But Nao groaned, resting his chin on his hand. This sounded so annoying already. Why did he
choose this job again? And why is he involved with the principal? Who decided this?

“You better be paying all the fees later when I get group therapy set up.”

“Whatever for?”

“Get some self-awareness before I come next time,” Nao sighed, exhausted.

“If it’s on sale,” Asano returned, similarly sarcastic.

“You’re pushing yourself,” Dr Matsukawa said with a sigh. “You’re just here for a checkup and an
IV, so don’t look at me like that.”

Nao pouted. “I came to visit and that's all you can say? All you ever do is whine about me to me.”

“It’s my job, you brat, and if you would ever listen to me, I wouldn’t have to repeat myself,”
Matsukawa knocked him on the head with the clipboard, standing up to get to the other end of his
office. “You don’t even have to come. We both agreed we’re dropping your case until we find
anything, and we haven’t.”

“This is why you have no friends.”

“That’s not your business!”

Nao hummed.

There was really no cure, even though he trusted Matsukawa to be putting in all the effort he could.
Well, it's not like he came here looking for one, so he doesn't really care.
“Your brother’s doing all he can too,” he said, and nao tensed. “For you, and… and well, for the
other kid too.”

Nao spun around in alarm. “The other kid?”

Matsukawa blinked at that. “He didn’t tell you?” he said. “You’ve got a nephew. We’re seeing the
starting signs of whatever you’ve got in him as well.”

Nao stood up, the chair skidding back violently.

“What?!”

His nephew– Kazane’s kid? And the same thing– is it genetic? Hopefully not. Hopefully it’s just a
stupid coincidence. Please.

Matsukawa sighed. “What did he even come by for, then, if he didn’t tell you?”

"Kazane left a kid. Feisty one– he's just like you."

Bitch, Kazumasa, you could be any more vague and you’d be making blackout poetry in the most
cryptid, arsehole way.

“I'm watching him now. Tell me if you ever want to meet him. I can make arrangements.”

“He’s– he’s going to–” be just like Nao. “But that’s– you’re telling me there’s nothing we can do?”

Suddenly, it was so much harder to accept when it wasn’t about himself.

“We’re trying our best. Your brother’s running around doing fuck all everywhere because of it,”
Matsukawa said. “It’s for you, too. Don’t forget that.”

“Who cares about me, save the kid, he’s got more time!”

“I said it once and I’ll say it again Naomasa, one more word about how much you don’t care about
your own life and I’m sending you to a fucking asylum mysefl!”

“...You said therapy, Matsukawa, not the asylum.”

“Well I changed my mind because apparently your whole damn family needs it.”

Nao let out a dying groan.

Now it’s not just his own life at risk. Wasn’t his illness just an effect of whatever is up with his
past life? Nao had come to terms with it. But if it’s genetic and it’s his fault– or someone earlier on
in their family tree?-- that this kid is getting it too…

…no, it’s not genetic. It’s definitely not genetic. It makes no scientific sense, after all. So it could
only be reincarnation rules and all of its mythicality.

His nephew is a reincarnator too. That’s the only explanation for this.
Another victim of this stupid system that’s only bringing him more time to ponder on his grief–
some stupid god’s entertainment trope that can go to hell.

“Matsukawa, I need a favour from you,” he said, fists clenching tight. “Please listen to me without
threatening to send me to the asylum again.”

Matsukawa grimaced. “Pick your words carefully, Naomasa,” he warned.

Nao nodded.

(He can’t let the other guy die, too.)

(It might be too late for Nao– but at the very least, if he can bring them a step further to solving
this mystery– this tragedy– this monstrosity– Nao would be relieved.)

“I want to give that kid a better chance than I’ve had,” he said.

(People can change if you believe in it. Even an immovable wall will give way if you slowly find
the cracks and dig through.)

(You just need the bravery to start somewhere.)

(And after that-- you just need to believe in the power of humanity.)

“So when I die,” he said, “please donate my body to science.”

 the meanings behind the text.
Chapter Summary

Finals come and go.

Nao observes, as he usually does. There really isn't much he can do, as a man of
surprising insignificance-- but well, he can definitely try. If some overthinking fool out
there can tell him the meaning behind his actions one day, he would certainly be
grateful.

“Good morning, Kunomasu-sensei!” Korosensei cheered, and Naomasa walked right into a
whirlwind of warmth, there’s suddenly a mug of coffee in his hand, and his jacket and scarf just
vanished in lieu of a warmed blanket. “The weather out there certainly is getting colder, isn’t it?”

“...Ah,” was all Nao could say for a while.

“Please, please– do sit down!” he daintily pulls out Nao's chair, ushering him into his seat with all
the grace of a very meek mother.

“You’re currying favour. What do you want?”

Korosensei immediately crumbled, sprawling onto the ground right before Nao, “ehhh, you see,
Kunomasu-sensei, uh, I was just thinking, you know… that like,” Korosensei wriggled his fingers
nervously like a school girl, “I was thinking we could cut down your classes another smidge, or
something, yeah—AAAHH don’t glare at me like that I’m sorry! I remember what you did to the
last person that took your class time away! Spare me! Anything but my job!”

Nao turned away, trying his best to not murder the octopus with a look.

“Just explain,” he sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s so close to the final exams, and it’s
Korosensei– so evidently, he’s got a plan.

“Ah, yes,” Korosensei is somehow in a dogeza now, chastised. “Here is the schedule I have
planned for today. As you can see, our roles today are mostly moved to supervision than actual
teaching.”

A single tentacle brought over a hand-drawn class schedule, and Nao looked through it. The
decrease in training and home ec in lieu of more subject classes was expected, but the amount was
not.

“You want the students to tutor each other?” he understood after looking through the next week’s
schedule as well.

“Yes,” Korosensei said, cheerful. And suddenly there was a stack of papers on Nao’s desk. “I’ve
delegated each student their schedules, based on who’s teaching when and learning when. Down to
the hour, and we’ll use the whole satellite campus as study areas. It’s like college!”

“How so? Ah, in the moving around part?”

There were stakes on the ground indicating class numbers for a set area, complete with
chalkboards, mats, and sometimes desks. Their main disadvantage in this campus was how little
classrooms they had– but if they used the outside as well, there was plenty of space.

Well, they could certainly learn more from each other than from the same teachers all the time. It’s
Korosensei’s idea, so it’s not like he doubted his capabilities.

“It’s fine, then,” Nao told him. "You didn't need to be so nervous, I'm a reasonable person."

Korosensei chuckled. "Well yes, but seeing what happened to the last person that cut down your
class time, I'm just... you see, taking precautions."

This time, Nao could genuinely say nothing but an incredulous, "ah."

It was quite endearing, seeing Karma bully his peers (his Math class had the biggest turnouts,
especially from students that decided to drop in during their self-study times,) only to get his just
desserts when it was Japanese Literature class with Kanzaki and Kataoka who had no qualms about
telling him how much he sucks at any form of empathic prose.

Nao watched them as they went on to take the exams.

He supposed there was nothing to worry about. After all, they won in the original material– of
course they would win here, too.

He wasn’t worried about them in the least.

“Well, my classes today are over, so I’m heading down the mountain,” Nao waved, “give me a call
if the students have questions.”

“And where are you going?” Karasuma asked, skeptical.

Nao grinned. “I’m not worried about these kids, but I do have kids I’m worried about!”

“Literature is all about over-analyzing things.”

Asano Gakushuu held a little study session with the other virtuosos. Mainly because Gakuho had
booted them out of their own classrooms and told them to self-study the rest of the material on their
own.

“You can make fun of blue curtains all you want, but for people who can never express themselves
properly, blue curtains might be the only way they know how to cry for help,” Nao set the book
face-down on the table. “So no– you never really have to use literature in your futures. But it’s still
a great thing to have, if only to practice human empathy.”

Sure, you could still memorise the points, revise the given material in the scope, and apply the
same theories to the surprise questions– but that just wasn’t the point.
Literature is all about the human behind the words. The characters in the text, the reasons of the
actions, and the trains of thought as words were penned down.

“Even as people die, their words remain,” Nao says. “Their words are immortalised as the
emotions they tried to express, and the meanings they tried to bring into physical form. We can
understand the hearts of these authors from their writings, even today.”

At first glance, Gakushuu didn’t have a subject he was weakest in.

But that’s simply because he’s good at hiding it. There was definitely a subject he had to study
harder for, and another subject that came to him like bread and butter.

Just like Karma, Gakushuu was easily tripped by Japanese Literature. You could say the same for
Asano Gakuho, not that the man ever needed to take a test to expose himself, but Nao could tell.

“It’s basically a practice of psychological observation,” Gakushuu says. “How pointless.”

Ren was looking incredibly smug beside him, because for just once in his entire life he has gotten
higher marks than Gakushuu today. Gakushuu was brooding right now.

Nao chuckled.

There was nothing Nao could do about Gakushuu’s general difficulty in understanding sympathetic
behaviour. There was no time to take his hand and lead him gently out of the swamp like Nao was
trying to do with Gakuho.

Gakushuu grew up learning to only look out for himself. He was taught to never associate with
those beneath him. He was cultivated to only differentiate between the useful and the trash.

(Needless to say, he’s never been taught how to truly regard his own feelings, either. How could
anyone expect him to truly understand the emotions weaved between the lines of metaphorical
prose?)

Nao watched as Ren boasted his 99% toward the others.

“Oh my lord guys! I have done it. I have really done it now–” he flipped his hair dramatically, “I
got higher marks than your holy highness! I have been blessed by the gods today! It’s a miracle!
I’ve got a higher mark than Asano! Asano! Gakushuu! I repeat, I– I need to tell everyone about
this. My family, my neighbourhood, my ancestors–”

And Nao continued to watch as Gakushuu lost his temper, leaping out of his seat to secure the
offending taller boy in a chokehold.

“You’re pushing your luck, Ren! This won’t happen again! Shut up!”

It was really rare to see him raise his voice.

Even rarer to see the other virtuosos actually laugh in the face of that threat. Araki attempted to
save him, but Natsuhiko was egging him on, while Seo watched from the side, half-heartedly
telling them to behave.
Nao smiled. “Shall we do one more?” he suggested, reaching for more test papers with practice
questions.

“Yes!’ Gakushuu yelled, almost furiously. “I will not be losing again! Absolutely not! Mark my
words, Ren!”

They sat down, almost effortfully– and when they worked, diligent, Nao couldn’t help but feel
warm inside.

There was nothing Nao could do about Gakushuu’s struggle with emotions, natures, and
individuality. But as Nao watched him interact with the rest of the virtuosos– he found a whole
variety of emotions flickering across that usually stone-cold demeanour.

He finds anger expressed in heatless violence, he finds embarrassment laced with frustration– and
he finds the joy that comes with a small, insignificant victory among themselves.

And Nao finds that he didn’t need to do anything about Gakushuu.

Gakushuu was fine where he was, among those he could call friends.

Nao has wondered, since the first day he climbed the mountain, what exactly his purpose was. He
had no direction, no great skill, and there wasn’t even much space in the source for him to
genuinely contribute much.

He’s not something that was put here to create a rift. He doesn’t have that sort of impact.

He’s just an outsider, after all. No matter what he does– the perfect ending of this story won’t
change. It doesn’t have to change, and there’s no one who would want to see it change, either.

So what was he here to do?

(Nao didn’t really know. He hasn’t been able to figure it out yet.)

He sets a hand on his scarf, running a few fingers through the gentle blue fabric. He knows that up
on the mountain, the E-class students were celebrating their results, rejoicing for their victory. He
should have been there with them, sharing in the joy.

But he isn’t there with them.

Instead, he stands before the Kunugigaoka Junior High main campus building, and makes his way
inside.

Asano was strong, but he was never inherently a violent man.

He did things with his head-- from the way he terrorized Takaoka into resigning, the way he
enchanted students with just three minutes of mind-corrupting phrases. But there were moments
where he would inevitably lose himself in the blood of a brutal, merciless beatdown.

Those were the increasingly frequent moments that were slowly rotting away the essence of the old
Asano Gakuho, replacing him with the monster he was today.

Nao knew that the part of Asano that always enabled him-- the one that laughed off his crude
reports, fixed his tie for him, and made sure there would always be a chair for him to sit in the
office-- that was the essence of the kind man he once was.

Somewhere inside, the gentle Asano still existed, and just a little setoff would make him vanish
completely. Nao didn’t want that to happen.

There have been close calls before. A mug swiping by his face, a pen broken in place of his arm or
a finger. A shattered wall in place of a broken rib.

“We apologize for being weak,” Ren spoke, and for the first time, he truly believed-- and rejected--
the ideals of their perfect Board Chairman. “If you’re dissatisfied with us…” the class, as one,
bowed their heads. “Then please send us to Class E.”

“We believe that we may be able to grow better there.”

(They had been thoroughly defeated in this war.)

(It was not that their efforts were lacking-- the flaws in Asano’s social strata had just revealed
themselves in all its hollowed glory, as inevitable as it had been from the beginning.)

But this time would be the first time Asano had struck for only malicious intents.

In another world, it would have been his son at the other end of that hand, and there would be
bruises, a broken table, and a concussion.

In this world, however, Nao reached over just in time to snag Gakushuu and pull him aside, placing
himself between them with an arm held up to his side, a meager defense against the sheer force that
hurtled him painfully to the side.

Failing to buffer the strength at all, his arm bends, just a little, just a little too much-- the pressure
transferring right through his bone and into his skull-- his breath hitches.

He collided against the tables, but he kept his arm around Gakushuu and between them until he
came to a stop right before the far wall.

There were flashes in his vision, and a ringing in his ear. He may have bitten his lip by accident,
but he’s not sure if the iron he’s tasting was due to that or something else. His arm hurt like a bitch,
but that was far from his priority.

“K- Kuma-sensei?!”

He didn’t let go of Gakushuu. Instead, he loosened his grip just a little, arms (both arms, because
who cares about the pain,) to Gakushuu’s face-- his eyes darting about hurriedly, quickly,
desperately-- searching for injuries.
“Are you alright?” Nao asked, because he can’t be sure so soon.

Gakushuu’s eyes were blown wide, and his mouth hung agape. There’s a shakiness in his gaze as
they filled with horror, then, something glistening.

“Y--” his voice was all choked up, “yes, I am.”

Nao let his head droop, relief flooding his senses. “I see, that’s great,” he said, letting go gently to
let his hands fall, wincing sharply at the agony in his arm that finally registered.

“Kuma-sensei!” There’s the rest of the virtuosos, but Ren was the one that spoke. “You’re
bleeding!”

When Nao brought a hand to his lips, he confirmed that, indeed, his mouth had filled with blood.
The dizziness may be a sign of a light concussion but he couldn’t be sure.

“It’s fine,” he said, despite their protests. Gakushuu looked like he was stuck between a furious
lecture and a wholehearted sob fest, he couldn't decide.

He turned to Asano. The Board Chairman himself had been left staring blankly upon his own hand,
unable to fully register the extent of his own actions.

"The students have said all they wanted to," Nao told them, "you guys should go now."

The students filed out promptly. Gakushuu gave the teacher one long, concerned look-- but turned
away with the rest of his class.

“...Why did you get in the way?”

Nao chuckled. “I wonder. I just didn’t want you to do something you would regret.”

Now Asano watched as Nao pulled a chair out for himself to sit down, bringing with him a table.
He leaned heavily into his uninjured arm to not-so-subtly give his head something to rest on.

“So,” Nao said. “Sit with me?”

Asano bites his lip, and the look of murder in his eyes was probably an indicator that Nao should
run. But he couldn’t. Not with this heart, not with this headache. So he waited, smiling strained,
and waited patiently.

“I refuse,” the answer came sharp.

Asano turned to leave, not once looking back. He would probably head straight up Class E’s
building, bringing a demolition team with him.

And the rest would be history.

Nao waited a full minute before letting out a heavy breath, all his tension– and the adrenaline–
leaving him. Slowly he felt it, the agony in his arm and his head finally rose and throbbed and took
center stage in his everything.

It’s worse than he’d thought. Maybe it’s just because he’s weak and his bones aren’t quite strong
after so much deterioration. He took solace in the fact that if it had been Gakushuu, it wouldn’t
have been this bad.

“Ugh, I’ll need a hospital,” he groaned, trying not to throw up.

(But at the very least, the school will be fine from now on.)

He sat there, in the silent, ruined classroom– and silently, he wondered if he was allowed to feel so
slightly accomplished over something so small.

But he smiled.

Because it might be insignificant, in some sense. To some people, this might be dumb and
unnecessary. Nothing would change even if he didn’t do anything– the most important part of that
development lay in what was happening on the mountain, not whatever this stupid thing he just did
was.

He didn’t need to be here.

But he was.

(What meaning could come from this? Maybe if someone were to strip this down to its bare bones,
they would find the emotions he himself couldn’t initially discover. Maybe if someone looked
from the outside in, they would understand the train of thought in his impulses, they would be able
to dissect his humanity down to a point where they may understand him better than he ever could
himself.)

One day, someone will find the meaning of his life.

But until then, he’ll try and understand it on his own.

“U- Uhm, Kuma-sen… KUMA-SENSEI?!”

“GUYS CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

“Wait no,” he yelps, “you guys are still here?! And I’m fine, don’t panic! I mean I need the
ambulance, but don’t panic! It’s better than it looks!”

“HE’S DYING! AMBULANCE, HURRY UP!”

 in richness and in poverty.
Chapter Summary

Gakushuu and Gakuho's very expensive family rivalry continues even after the
confrontation, but it's changed, somewhat. Nao's not so sure how to feel about this.

That's a lie, he knows exactly how he feel about it and it's rage. Why are rich people
so annoying?

“...and so, we went to court to file our cases together,” Gakushuu said. “The judge gave us a very
disapproving look and suggested counselling instead.”

Nao couldn’t exactly enjoy his tea right now. “You Asano family sure have a weird way of
bonding as a family.” Who the hell says we went to file lawsuits against each other in the same
tone as would a parent and child going for a haircut together?

Gakushuu shrugged. “It’s how we’ve always been.”

Nao chortled.

The last event of the Kunugigaoka school year, after the final exams, was the School Drama
Festival. Nao sat by the corner of the hall, eating his lunch as Gakushuu caught him up with what
went on after the whole incident.

(Nao took a trip to the hospital, but he came out of it with little to say for it other than his old
problems. Seems the progress of his illness has inched a little further forward, but hey, an unknown
deadline is still unknown even if you run toward it.)

(His arm didn’t break, surprisingly, but it was very close. There was a very deep bruise upon it, as
the bone bent. But it was fine.)

It seems like the Board Chairman’s narrative arc has come to a close.

All that’s left are entrance exams, the matter with Shiro, and then the final assassination itself. It
felt like time flew by.

“I have to go,” Gakushuu said, when the Virtuosos waved him over. It’s almost time for Class A’s
performance. “Please don’t talk to my father if he comes over. Please don’t ,” he looked entirely
serious, eyes full of genuine concern. “You hear me, Kuma-sensei? I’m still in the process of
getting a warrant for him if he touches you ever again.”

“I’ll try,” Nao waved, “good luck on your end. And please don’t arrest your father, I have a feeling
the government has their hands full with the moon incident.”

“I don’t care, it’s their job .”

“Well then, do it for me?” Nao pleaded.

Gakushuu faltered, looking away, “...that will depend.”

Gakushuu left systematically, the committee meeting him with paperwork and reports of how
things are going. He’s a very hardworking child, and Nao thought that was really amazing. Not for
the first time, he wondered if he was truly a junior high schooler.

He leaned against the table, smiling warmly.

If no one else, he’s assured that Gakushuu will go on to become a great adult.

“So…” he hummed. “Are you actually going to come sit with me, or are you content just standing
there and staring like the evil mastermind you no longer are?”

Asano Gakuho looked very miffed. “I thought you were not going to talk to me, in accordance with
my son’s advice?”

Nao shrugging, turning back toward him, an arm on the back of the chair. “I said I was going to try
. You know how my attempts at doing anything always go.”

Asano frowned. “Get that negativity away from me.”

“I’m sorry, it’s a chronic condition, so that’s impossible.”

“Stop saying things that are stupid but technically true, I don’t like not having a response to your
rebuttals.”

Nao pours a cup of tea for Asano, and the Board Chairman sits down, to the surprise of some
nearby students that very pointedly scoot a little further away at the sight.

“You’re such a frail creature,” Asano said, rather disappointed. “Are you really the man that’s been
going directly against me for the past few months? Even more directly than that octopus, in fact.
You’re the one man I just can’t figure out how to defeat, since you're neither challenging me
academically nor physically.”

He’s the only one seeing this as a two-way battle, though.

“I’m playing Kirby, so don’t go Street Fighter on me,” Nao sighed. Asano raised a brow, clearly
not understanding the comparison. “This was never supposed to be a war between you and me. Not
everything is a test.”

“But everything can be,” Asano insisted. “From the moment you stepped into my office that rainy
day, questioning my choices, the war had begun. When you defied me and showed favour to Class
E, when you mislooked their deeds and tried to manipulate me from my very own words, from
your position. It has all been very amusing.”

To him, the world is a series of battles and trials. Every conversation with his child is an
opportunity to one-up the other. Every problem he’s faced is a challenge on the road to success.
He’s been raised to take everything in this violently-contextualised worldview, and perhaps, Asano
himself had no idea how to change that.

In the end, it all just boiled down to the psyche that no science can understand, huh.

“That was never my intention,” Nao said. “I’m just doing my job.” As a teacher. As an empathic
person. As a protector and adult. “I don’t want to be anything like a hero or a main character that
saves this school, nothing like that.”

He did not defy the Board Chairman for anything like that. He spoke against him, he was never too
afraid of him.

And that was not because Nao wanted to be the one that fixed everything. He wasn’t that arrogant
to actually believe anything like that.

“If so, then, what do you really want to be?” Asano asked. “Or do you intend to stay an outsider
forever?”

Class 3-E’s play goes on, a dark, morbid story of an intrinsically warped household that begins
dreadfully, and only spirals down further, into worse developments. It was a story meant only to
subvert expectations, never to genuinely hold any heart.

It was a story fated to end on a macabre note, and that was how they delivered the ending. It never
tried to be anything it wasn’t.

Like that play, Class E will not have a happy ending.

(And neither will Nao.)

Asano picked up his teacup, taking careful sips. “The Ministry of Defence has already told me their
final plans for Korosensei’s assassination. I can only assume what will happen next.”

It’s almost time for the final mission. It is something that will happen. It is something with a
genuine, slated deadline, and yet, no matter how many warnings they’ve received, they would
never be prepared for the abrupt farewell.

No one is prepared for death. Not even someone on their deathbed.

“Will he be able to remain a teacher after it?” Asano wondered, looking toward Korosensei,
dressed as a peach, sitting innocently upon the stage, getting pelted by food and trash items. “Will
you?”

Nao didn’t know.

“Korosensei will always be a teacher,” he said. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

The name feels foreign on his tongue. It’s the first time he’s ever said it, hasn’t he? It’s
embarrassing to actually say it out loud.

“Well, enough about me and the octopus,” Nao said. “What’s with you and Shuu-kun?”

“...why are you calling my son that?”

“Because Shuu-kun is a good boy,” Nao said. “I heard he changed the locks in the front door just to
spite you.”

Asano looked irritated. “Yes. Luckily, I mastered the art of lockpicking five years ago, so it was a
minor inconvenience,,” he said. “On that note, I have installed electronic locks to every single door
in his room, including the closet, and also chain-locked his shoes to the house column. I'm
impressed he made it to school in decent condition today.”

“...is that morbidly annoying turn of events the reason why you don’t have a tie today?”
“Well, smart casual is fine for one day. It is certainly not because my son airlifted my entire tie
closet into Saudi Arabia last night.”

“Apologize to us poor peasants of the world, right this instant!”

When Kayano attacked Korosensei and ran off, leaving the entire classroom baffled and frazzled—
Nao looked upon the direction she left, and followed while the class confronted Korosensei
instead.

He lost her very quickly, but he didn’t come up empty.

“I have a proposition for you, Kunomasu Naomasa.”

It was hard to say that Nao expected this to happen, especially after Kazane showed up last time to
make a mess of things. The world had to veer itself back onto the right path somehow, and the
easiest way to deal with a gap in the plan was to get rid of the initial roadblock, wasn’t it?

Shiro— Yanagisawa, approached him with a case.

“It has been a while. I hope Irona is doing well in your care,” a very blatant lie. “Please, refer to me
as Shiro.”

Nao eyed it skeptically. Strictly speaking, Shiro has not spoken to Nao much, or at all. He barely
glanced his way or Irina’s in all the times he’s approached the class, because he did not see them as
useful in his plan.

It appears that has changed.

“You have a talent you’ve never tapped into. It’s such a waste, especially as near death as you are,”
he said, and Nao realized that he’d been buttering up the conversation for a while now, Nao just
ignored it because he’d had a headache and he just wanted to go home. “It’s hard to imagine you’re
related to Windy.” Of course he knows that. Who doesn’t, at this point? “But you have potential,
and this might even give you a chance to cure your illness.”

Nao’s head lifted at that.

Is this fucker for real?

Misinterpreting it, Shiro smiles, visible even through his mask as his eyes narrowed in emotion.

“Would you hear me out?” He opened the case to reveal an array of syringes and suspicious
chemicals. “There is a very great benefit to you cooperating with me. You’ll be able to live longer,
for one, and more of all… you would be able to empathize with that one problem student of yours.”

Nao blinked. Problem student… he’s referring to Kayano.

“She’s run off, hasn’t she? Impatient and impulsive, she is,” Shiro sighed, resigned. “I'm sure
you’re wondering what drove her to that point. You are the counselor, after all. You always strive
to see things at their level.”

Nao stepped forward.

“This will greatly aid your efforts,” Shiro assured. “I–”

“I’m sorry, but,” Nao held up a hand, taking the briefcase by the handle. Shiro abruptly realizes
that he was unable to pull out of the titan grip. Nao’s eyes are cold, completely stoic, and
exhausted. “That’s above my pay grade.”

Nao ripped it out of his hands and, clutching Yanagisawa’s arm, pressed against the elbow— he
whirled around and judo-flipped him right over his head, shattering the briefcase and its contents
all over the ground.

Nao dusted his hands.

He was only able to do that because Yanagisawa himself is a researcher, not a fighter, and also, he
was caught unawares. If it had been anyone else, (any of the students, for example,) Nao would
have stood no chance.

“Also, I don’t have a sister,” he said, beaming. “We completely cut ties a long time ago, which is
an example you should follow, you clingy-ass motherfucking creep. Get a fucking clue, you
homeless jerkwad.”

Yanagisawa lay on the floor, flabbergasted at what he was hearing.

“Ah, my bad,” Nao said. “I’m in a bad mood, you see. Your tirade made me realize that you’ve just
spent so many months of your life looking for stupid revenge instead of earning a living, and it just
filled me with unbridled fury. Do you not need an actual job? Are you rich enough to be able to
waste so much time on petty grievances instead of trying to earn back your losses when your lab
exploded?”

“...how did you even know… most of that?”

“Rich people can go fucking die,” Nao said. “Also, I’m looking for my student, so if you’re not
going to tell me where she is, please go away and wait for your cue at the final battle. Thank you.”
 may your dreams bloom.
Chapter Summary

"And the tentacles asked me, 'what do you want to be'? Do you ever have desires like
that, Kuma-sensei? Have you ever wanted something so terribly, you would die for
it?"

Kayano speaks to Nao, and Nao agonizes over his own answer for her.

"No, you don't. You've never seen your own life as something worth risking, after all."

He’d talked big, but honestly, the idea of the tentacles being the solution for his condition filled
him, for just a moment, with hope.

That thing was capable of completely altering human biology. Just look at Korosensei.

If Nao’s condition was supernatural, then there can only be a supernatural solution— that was what
he’d always thought, and he’d cursed himself for not being born in a fantasy manga instead.
Assassination Classroom was fantasy, in a way, but it was a world of science most of all, and the
science would not make it in time.

That was why, Nao clenched his heart and felt pain churn inside.

It’s wishful thinking. It’s all wishful thinking. And yet, for a moment, Nao felt relieved to realize
that the solution had been that simple after all.

Wasn’t he supposed to have completely given up on his own recovery?

How ridiculous.

Even with the tentacles, however, Nao was sure it wouldn’t work. Call it instinct if you must— but
Shiro had only approached him, knowing very little about Nao at all. He’d found a pawn and was
eager to use it.

Shiro was not a man that planned far ahead. He moved systematically, from one plan to the next,
depending on the situation. He does not plan for failure.

The tentacles cause immense strain to the body, and would be difficult to control without an
ironclad will. Nao, with his tattered, corroded body, and weakened hopes, would never be able to
withstand that kind of burden.

Even if he did, everyone knew the consequences. And the consensus, in the end, will inevitably be
to remove them either way.

So even though he used that injection, no one could predict anything that would happen. He might
even explode immediately, and kill the earth a few months in advance. Wouldn’t that be a hilarious
gainax ending?

There was no point in it.

Nao found Kayano at a cliffside overlooking the town.

He’s breathing heavily, having hurried the whole way here. He clenched his heart from the effort,
but mustered enough strength to lift his head to face her. Each throb of his heart sent pain through
his body, but he knew it would pass.

For once, Nao wasn’t the one that looked the weakest.

Kayano’s breaths were ragged, and she was essentially soaked in cold sweat. Her clothing was
disheveled, her eyes bloodshot, and her shoulders stiff from the constant migraine. She spun
around, way too alarmed, when Nao approached.

The conversation did not go well, either.

“The tentacles asked me what I wanted,” Kayano said, her eyes filled with agonized hope. The
desperation of someone who had no one else to turn to. “I know what I want to be. I want to be a
killer.”

And Itona wanted to be strong. And Korosensei wanted to be weak.

“Do you ever have desires like that, Kuma-sensei?” she challenged, and somehow, those words
hurt. Nao wondered if it was the pain in his chest, or if it was just his conscience.

Have you ever wanted anything so bad, you’d die for it?

“You don’t.”

Nao’s never bet his life on anything, because he never cared for his life, ever.

“All you ever dream of is complacency— you don’t hold grudges, you rarely even show
frustration. You’ll never understand how any of us feel!”

Nao doesn’t manage to answer. He could only stare, bewildered, as his own student tore right into
him, and clawed out, as painfully as possible, the very weaknesses he’s always tried so hard to
hide.

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe Nao’s assurances have always been empty, after all. In this classroom of desires, bright
futures, and little soldiers, Nao was a rusted cog.

Korosensei spends every moment of his life burning away at his own time to make the most of it.
Nao burns away his time leisurely, never really hoping to make the most of it. He’s always just
gone ahead, aimlessly, never caring where he’d end up.

(“Do you really want to remain an outsider forever?” Asano had asked.)

Nao could do nothing as she ran off. He could do nothing, because in the end, it had to be
Korosensei that saved her.

Nao had no role here.

“Oh, Nao-kun! Won’t you help me out?”

In the days after the confrontation, school was out, so Nao took a break and stayed home to help
out at the shop.

Winter was coming, which meant a change in the assortment of flowers available. In addition to
that, Ms Sakurai tended to create fake flowers for the shop’s variety, as they were a more viable
purchase in this weather.

Nao folded in the layered petals of the sugarbush flower, inspecting its quality before making
another. It was menial, but very monotonous work. Yet, it suited Nao perfectly, in that he didn’t
quite need to think as he made flower after flower, after flower.

Kayano’s words have continued to ring in his head, for every waking minute.

Maybe this was how it felt to be on the other end of the conversation. He kind of felt bad for
consistently tormenting Principal Asano with his nosiness now. He might have to apologize later.

“You’ve been lost in thought very often, Nao-kun,” Ms Sakurai said, interrupting his train of
thought, continuing to fold carnations. “Are things not going well at work?”

Nao bit his lip.

He stopped his hands.

Somehow, the words came easily. So easily. “I’m just not living up to my role,” he said. “Everyone
is unique up there— they’re capable, reliable, and friendly. Sincere,” every teacher up there was
genuine, including Irina, “I thought I could be like them.”

Compared to them, I just can’t stand out.

From the very beginning, Kunomasu Naomasa was not designed to be as prominent and
memorable as the others up there.

“But, are you trying?”

Ms Sakurai’s question surprised him. It was not an accusation, not a demand. Just a question, a
genteel wonder.

Nao was very sure. “I’m trying my best.”

Her smile bloomed onto her face. She handed a flower to her son, stood up, and excused herself,
because it was time to open shop.

“I like you as you are, Nao-kun,” Ms Sakurai said. “You’re my wonderful, dear son, and I’m so, so
proud of you.”

It was a blue orchid.

(You’re a rarity in your own unique way, and that’s how you should be.)
Nao didn’t leave the room until his tears dried.

“I thought I was fine with it,” Nao admitted, “I thought I was fine with the thought that I could just
live a dull, boring life in the corner of nowhere, unnoticed until I’m gone.”

He rested his head on his staffroom table, staring at the single plastic blue orchid in the vase.

It was Winter Break now, with Kayano still recuperating in the hospital and most of the students
mulling over Korosensei’s newly-discovered backstory. Korosensei himself was off in Mt Fuji or
something, so Nao was here alone.

It’s a little dumb, to be talking to a flower. But he was too much of a coward to actually talk to
anyone, including Ritsu.

Somehow, this calmed him.

A single flower, and yet…

“I’m good at pretending to sympathize, maybe,” Nao said. He thought he’d always had
compassion. Turns out, he never did. His chest is heavy with a painful sort of loneliness. “I’m
starting to understand why you wanted to be seen.”

Did you live with this pain your whole life, Ran?

The desire to want something so desperately, you go mad for it… Everyone around him had that
kind of desire— that kind of ambition . Kazane ran off into the world of danger for love. Irina’s
waltzing around in her own sense of individuality, hoping to find happiness and peace. Even Red
Eye has resolved to find better sights to target, and Korosensei has his heart set for the betterment
of his students.

And of course, every student in this classroom had individual visions of the future for themselves,
too.

Nao’s a little envious. He wanted to have something like that, too, but alas.

Nao’s never been one for passionate ambitions like that, anyways.

“I’m going to die.”

He’d shocked Kayano enough just by appearing in her hospital room, but when he said that, she
choked on her strawberry milk and needed a long time to recover.

Then, there was a frantic attempt to get out of bed, but Nao stopped her, setting hands on her
shoulders to hope she didn’t resist them.

“Calm down, calm down,” he said, to her tearful eyes. “It’s not exactly new information.”
“Yeah, but—!!” she stopped herself, sniffling. “I— I.” It’s not her fault, of course. It’s no one’s at
all. “I’m sorry. That I said all that, even though…”

Even though she knew best how torturous it was to work with an indefinite but inevitable deadline.

“I’ve long come to terms with it,” Nao said. “I’m just vocalizing it now, because I think you
deserve to know. I’ll tell everyone eventually.”

Kayano’s face scrunched up, displeased.

“Why aren’t you more upset by it?” she’s crying, but she knows why. There just wasn’t a reason to
be. It wasted time and emotional effort, and most of all, was meaningless.

Even when her sister died, her primary concerns after the shock were the funeral arrangements, the
settlement of the remaining paperwork, and then revenge. It was only after a while that the loss
sunk in, but by then, there was only numbness and acceptance left to go through.

That was how the world worked in modern society.

“It’s not that I want to die,” Nao admitted. “I just want to make the most of my life before I go. I
want to do all I can, so I can leave all of you behind without regrets.”

He’s died once before and now he doesn’t fear death, but he still doesn’t want to die.

Kayano’s cheeks streaked with tears, and she clenched her bedsheets, frustrated. “It’s not fair,” she
said. “Nobody deserves to go. There’s no reason for you to. I don’t understand why nothing can be
done for you and you’re just accepting that as it is.”

Nao curled his hands around hers, and sighed.

“Even if I find a miraculous cure now, we’ll be back here in another decade or a dozen,” Nao said.
“Nobody’s ever ready for death. Not with all the warnings or extensions in the world, you’ll never
be prepared for when it comes. Death will always elude your expectations, that’s how it works.”

It really didn’t make her feel any better.

“It’s all humans can do to move on,” Nao said. “The people who are left behind, and the people
who are passing on, too.”

Kayano cried, clinging onto him. “Why can’t you just stay with us forever? You, Korosensei, my
sister… a world where all of you are here, as our teachers… why couldn’t things just be like that?”

There’s got to be a fantastical, beautiful, perfect world like that out there somewhere.

But alas, if Aguri didn’t die, Korosensei wouldn’t exist. And if Korosensei didn’t, then neither
would this world, this story, this universe, and neither would Naomasa.

Things had to happen to the will of life.

Nao sighed, his hands gently wrapped around her shoulders, cradling her gently.

“The next place I go may or may not be a better place than this. But it’ll grow on me, just like all
of you.”

And surely, from there, another beautiful story will bloom.

“Kuma-sensei,” Kayano asked, her face still half-buried in Nao’s stomach. Her tears were dried by
now, but her voice still croaked. “What do you want to be?”

(“Do you intend to be an outsider forever?”)

It’s a little embarrassing, Nao realized, but he looked outside, toward the sunset, and realized that
it didn’t matter.

“I want to be Korosensei.”

Kayano lifted her head in surprise, but Nao focused on himself. On the sunflowers in the vase of
the bedside table, the way they bloom, undeterred by anything.

("Do you have desires like that, Kuma-sensei?”)

He does. He wants to help people, any way he can. He knows how it feels to be stuck in a ditch,
but instead of getting himself out, he wants to stay knee-deep in it, so whoever else falls in can get
on his shoulders and help themselves, first.

Nao chuckled. “I mean, I said that, but my desire’s nothing as grand or impressive.”

He wants to be useful. He wants to be relevant.

He just wants to be something.

“It’s fine if just a niche of people know me,” he said. “I don’t need to be remembered, I don’t need
to be honoured. But if my words mattered, maybe someone would think of me in passing. It’s fine
if I’m forgotten-- but just for a little while, I want to be something that isn’t just an outsider in the
end.”

Whatever reaction he was expecting, it was not Kayano grabbing his shoulders fervently. With a
tear-streaked face and ironclad resolve, she looked him dead in the eye and unflinchingly declared:

“You’re already that!”

It was loud and clear.

“You’re already important to me,” Kayano promised. “To all of us. You matter to us, so much
more than you think of yourself, and— and I just hate that you don’t know it yourself. We love
you, damn it!”

She continued to rant, long and naggy and fumbling embarrassingly over her words– but they were
honest, expressive, and it was every bit the expressive Kayano Kaede that everyone in class had
come to know over the year.

It was every bit the love and heart of CLass E that inevitably lived in her.

And now, it was directed at him.

Nao felt so much joy in his chest, he couldn’t stop the thread of tears and brimming over his eyes.
“...is that so?” he said, genuinely relieved. “I’ve already achieved it, huh?”

So he managed to live meaningfully, after all.

 many ways to save a man.
Chapter Summary

Nagisa and Karma have a big quarrel over Korosensei's eventual fate. The argument
only serves to pull the students closer to each other, and Nao has to sit down to slowly
realise how much they've really grown, and how far things have changed since the
start of the semester.

The kids raid a space station, and Ritsu ponders on Love.

“Were you already aware of what I was?”

When Korosensei asked him that, he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. Nao didn’t look surprised
when he was told about the experimentation and the history, so he figured Korosensei picked up
the pieces and tried to put them together.

Nao really looked suspicious, didn’t he? He doesn’t want to cause any misunderstandings, so he
should deny it here and dismiss it as him being too tired to be surprised.

“Yes, I knew from the start.”

Oops.

There was a purple tinge to Korosensei’s face as he asked his next question. “And how did you
know?” it was a little less of a threat and more of a very restrained warning.

There were some perks to being too weak to be worth attacking, Nao surmised.

“No one told me, nor was I ever directly involved,” Nao assured, sipping on his coffee. “I was just
born into this world with that knowledge. I know a lot of things.”

“...And you’ve never made use of this knowledge because?”

Nao frowned. “What makes you think I never did?”

Korosensei fell silent.

“You’re the same,” Nao says. “You knew most of this was going to happen, you already knew
from the start that your death was inevitable. You’ve accepted it, but it’s not like you’re not trying
anyways.”

Korosensei has always tried his best to improve himself, physically. He devised countermeasures,
if he were to ever come near death. His molting, liquefaction, and absolute defense forms were just
some of those.

But what was the point? He was going to die, either way, and yet, it seems like Korosensei wasn’t
quite ready to accept it either.

“It doesn’t matter what we do or try, destiny will still run its course,” Nao told him. “So what if a
few people have noticed the invisible hand of fate? It’s not going to divert its course just to keep us
surprised.”

Nao knew everything from the start. But he didn’t desire for the world to change around him, and
thus, he left things be.

“Ultimately, my story is not about what I can do and how big of a ripple I can cause,” Nao said.
“It’s about what it will mean for the people I interact with, for this world we’ll leave behind, and
for myself.”

Winter break ends, and the students come together, armed with knives and guns in red and blue, on
two sides of a partitioned force of will.

“I want to save Korosensei,” Nagisa said.

Karma scoffed. “So you’re just going to discard the bloodlust we’ve built up all this while for that
pansy ideal? You want to reduce everything Korosensei’s done for us to nothing?”

Karasuma spotted the scuffle just as Korosensei does, and Nao looks over, alarmed. Korosensei
headed out to stop them before Karma and Nagisa started to really hurt each other. Irina and Nao
brought up the rear, overlooking the situation warily.

“I knew it’d get bad, but I didn’t think…” Karasuma sighed. “What is that stupid octopus doing?
He’s exacerbating it.”

“It’s fine,” Nao said. “Let the kids fight it out. They say people only quarrel once they’re close
enough to bicker, you know? I say we’ve come a long way since the deserted depression wasteland
at the start of the school year.”

Irina groaned. “Love your spirit, Naomasa, but this isn’t just a normal scuffle, you know? This
could ruin their friendships forever.”

“If it ruins everything, then that’s what it’ll be,” Nao said. “But it won’t happen.”

Nothing in this class was meant to last. The moon crisis will officially end come March, and so will
their years as students, the teachers they love, and this classroom.

But the bonds they’ve built, the memories ingrained in them— the love that Korosensei gave them
to fill in that hole in their hearts— that will last forever.

That, Nao’s very sure of.

“Everyone does this because they love Korosensei,” Ritsu said. “But I don’t understand, Kuma-
sensei. I understand many things… but love is one that will always escape me. At times it’s
wonderful, and other times, it brings us to conclusions that only conclude with grief. Kayano’s
assassination that day… It was love as well, wasn’t it? Warped as it was, evil as it felt… it was
love, for all she wanted to protect.”

Nao didn’t think he could ever give her a proper answer.

They sat upon the safe zone, overlooking the fields as the two groups parted and prepared for the
beginning of the long battle.

“Love is infinite, and it’s a spectrum,” he said. “Love, you see, is like literature. You can study it
for the rest of your life, and still, there will never be a one true answer to the question. Everyone
interprets it differently, everyone experiences it in their own ways, and none of those definitions
are ever wrong.”

Ritsu was silent for a long moment.

“Is that why you study literature, Kuma-sensei?” she asked, “did you pursue it because you, too,
wanted to understand love?”

Nao chuckled at that. “I guess you could say that.”

Nao didn’t understand love. Not familial, not romantic, and barely platonically as well. He’s
starting to grasp the concept, but love wasn’t something you could find by stubbornly grasping at
straws until it made sense.

Love was something that came to you one day, and you just understood it.

“Then, Kuma-sensei,” Ritsu said, twiddling her thumbs, “would you say that love, for me… is this
classroom? Does that make sense?”

Robots and artificial intelligence didn’t quite understand love, either.

“Yes,” Nao told her, without a doubt. “That’s love.”

Ritsu brightens, her cheeks pink. “Then, Kuma-sensei, I must say again that I love you too! And of
course, Korosensei, and Karasuma-sensei, and Bitch-sensei, too. And everyone in class as well. I
hope we make up soon. It’s sad to see them fight.”

Nao nods. “One day, you’ll find so many things to love, you’ll lose count.”

“Don’t worry!” Ritsu says, pumping her fists enthusiastically. “I always keep my most important
data securely listed in my core memory in alphabetical order. I’ll never let it be erased, ever!”

Nao couldn’t help but laugh at that, endeared.

“That’s assuring!”

Chiba sighed, coming up to the audience stands with Okajima. “It’s pretty devastating to be taken
out so early.”

“I didn’t get to take anyone out!” Okajima whined.

“Oh, shush, you two,” Kataoka groaned. “You took us out in a second! Talk about overkill!”
“Badass as fuck, though,” Takebayashi contributed, to which Kataoka hissed out a language at
him. “Honestly I’m upset I didn’t predict the move. If you have the best snipers on your team, why
wouldn’t you lay an ambush at the starting buzzer?”

“Exactly. People always let their guards down before the bell rings to begin. You were especially
obvious with your gunpowder rig when you tried to set it up,” Chiba said, very dryly. “Wish I got
more than one hit, though.”

“If we’re talking badass-mother-fuckers of the day, dude you should have seen Kanzaki!” Okajima
threw his hands into the air in equal parts awe and speechlessnes. “Just—” he had to take a moment
to press his hands into his face. “Grandmaster Kanzaki. Grandmaster, I need to be her disciple,
holy shit.”

“Uhhh,” Kanzaki started awkwardly from the step-ladder. “Thank you, I’m very flattered?”

All four eliminated yelp in surprise. “Grandmaster Kanzaki!” they yelled at once. And then,
quieter, “take me in as your disciple, please.”

“Now now, everyone, I think we should calm down…”

“No, don’t calm down,” Sugaya said, climbing up after Kanzaki. He’s covered in globs of too
much blue paint everywhere . “Did you have to shoot me seven times? Kanzaki, I know you
usually game on auto-reload arcade shooting games, but I just want you to know that your ammo
usage is so wasteful I am genuinely feeling sorry for the paint balls in your possession!”

Kanzaki recoils, flustered. “I wasn’t being wasteful!”

“Yes you were,” came five different voices. Kataoka made the point of gesturing at the blue-
splattered group compared to her own and Takebayashi, who were killed in one shot each. “They
took a bath!”

Kanzaki shrank down, cheeks tinted red. “I… am so sorry…”

Barely five minutes into the battle and there are already a handful of people eliminated. It was
honestly impressive, and it spoke volumes of how far the class had come as a team, and as
soldiers.

Nao watched as they bickered on the audience stand, their previous animosity completely derailed
in the midst of complimenting or criticizing each others’ skills.

“See?” he whispered to Ritsu and Irina. “Love.”

“Ah, Kuma-sensei!” Kataoka hurried over, dragging Chiba by the elbow. “Help us out here!
Chiba’s being self-depreciative again!”

“I mean… I definitely underperformed today…”

“But you got the coolest damn kill! You took out Ikemegu!” Okajima insisted, “don’t give me that
humble bullcrap, be overjoyed dammit, she’s one of their control towers!”

So apparently, they’ve moved on from criticizing and onto forcing each other to accept
compliments. Poor Chiba, he’s the worst at this. He’s going to die of embarrassment.

“Kuma-sensei, compliment Takebayashi too,” Kanzaki pushed the explosives expert at the teacher,
“if his device worked, we would’ve gotten a lot more kills. But he’s all mopey because he didn’t
get to use it, so praise him for us.”

“Let’s not trouble Kuma-sensei…” Takebayashi was grinding his heels on the wood under him,
trying to get back. But Sugaya was helping Kanzaki drag him forward.

“It’s okay, Kuma-sensei’s a teacher,” Sugaya assured. “Teachers exist to be troubled. By their
students specifically. It’s his job.”

Nao had to try very hard not to burst out laughing.

“I think you all did really well,” he said, reaching over to pat them on the heads.

“Kuma-senseiiii!” Kurahashi wailed, running right up to him the moment she got back to base.
“Listen! I lost the battle of the Hinas, so I’m now officially the inferior Hina… I’m upset! Comfort
me!”

Nao sighed fondly, patting her on the head as she nuzzled into his stomach. “There there. It’s okay
if you’re the…” he had to take the moment, “inferior Hina, or whatever. You’re still the superior
Kurahashi.”

“I’m the only Kurahashi in this classroom!”

“Exactly.”

She made whimpering noises into his shirt. Behind her, standing in line, is OKano, the superior
Hina, waiting for her turn to get pampered.

“I want a hug, too! Do you know what that scumbag Maehara did to me?!”

Nao offered a hand. She accepted a head pat as she started ranting.

“He stabbed me! In the butt! Like a pervert! And then he called me a monkey!” she gestured
incredulously. “Unbelievable! I want to step on his face, he is a cretin!”

Kayano chuckled meekly at that, patting Kimura on the shoulder as he, too, sulked about his
frankly dumb misstep on the battlefield.

“Should’ve just listened to Karma and not tried to get ahead of myself,” he mourned.

“There, there,” Kayano said. “It happens to the best of us.”

Nao couldn’t help but notice that they were standing in a line expectantly. They should be sitting
around, regrouping with their teams to review and recuperate, but apparently,the first thing they did
was do the impromptu line up to debrief with Kuma-sensei? What’s with that?

“Are you guys… waiting for my attention?” Nao asked.

They turned to him, fixing him with an incredulous duh look. Even Hazama was standing there,
waiting uncharacteristically.

“I got used by that devil commander Karma, like a tool,” she said. “I need someone to agree with
me when I say he’s an asshole.”

Literally anyone else in the classroom would agree with her, though. There was no reason to wait
for Nao specifically.

But alright, this was fine, too.

“Then, you’re all limited to thirty seconds each,” he said, relenting to their spoiled needs because
he is an utter softie. “Kuma-sensei privileges are scarce, you know!”

Behind her, everyone cheers like they’ve won the lottery.

“What on earth is happening?” Isogai asked as he returned to base, finding a line of people. It was
cluttering up the audience stands, and it was already narrow as it was.

“It’s uh,” Irina grimaced at the sight, “his official statement of popularity.”

Maybe that explains why Korosensei looked so conflicted when he stared at them. He wasn’t too
sure how to feel about the fact that Nao was more popular than him when it came to students that
wanted to be spoiled by their teachers.

Yada was lifted into a bridal carry and spun around. Yada is still twinkling with happiness when
Hayami squeaked, shaking her head in denial for a long minute before Nao scooped her up into a
bridal carry as well, twirling her around and into a ballroom spin before letting her go.

She flushed bright red, crouching down so she could peacefully just bask in elation.

Nao huffed, looking for the next request. Everyone is screaming me next, me next , and Korosensei
is dying of jealousy.

Isogai gave Korosensei a skeptical glance.

Then he resigned himself to his desires.

“Kuma-sensei!” Isogai raised his hand, sounding as enthused as when he dug up expensive yams in
the mountain, “please pick me up like a princess too!”

When things looked like this, it was hard to remember that around them, the war went on.

“I don’t see the charm,” Itona said, mirthfully receiving a head pat like a disgruntled dog.

Nao hummed. “It’s not for everyone. There you go then, it’s better if you sit down and rest with the
others— what?”

Itona had glared up at Nao when he removed his hand. “Hey,” a warning growl, “it hasn’t been
thirty seconds yet. Who said you could stop?”
Chastised, Nao put his hand back on the boy’s head.

Nagisa wins the war, and Class E gets a month’s time to determine any possible methods to save
Korosensei.

“Goodness, look at yourself,” Nao chided them, making them sit on the chairs in the office while
the rest of the class gather around the staffroom and outside of it, snickering at them.

It was hard to say who was more injured, Nagisa or Karma. The horrid bruising everywhere, so
many scrapes— the uniform protected them, so of course they hit only the uncovered spots— and
Karma took off his jacket, so his shoulders got a full brunt of a triangle choke hold and his arms
were now numb.

“Your muscles are going to kill you tomorrow,” Nao warned.

“...worth it,” Nagisa said.

“And your face. That is not going to look pretty, and why did you bite your tongue? You want to
suffer for your next meal, is that it?” Nao turned to Karma, who was pouting.

“It was tactical ,” Karma insisted.

Nao made them take off their shirts, so he and Karasuma could really asses the damage. Bone
contusions on Nagisa’s side… at least it’s not broken. And Karma tore a muscle trying to get out of
strangulation.

“If I have anything to say about this, it’s that neither of you are getting training anytime soon,” Nao
declared, to which Nagisa and Karma made synchronous whines.

“We’re fine! Super fine!”

“I can definitely still beat up Terasaka like this! That means I’m fine!”

Terasaka barked in the distance, “YOU WANNA GO, YOU SHITHEAD?”

Karasuma sighed. “I agree with him,” he said, and the two sunk down in despair. “Listen to the
only qualified medic on campus. Plus, it’s your own fault for going overboard.”

“Karma started it!”

“No, Nagisa, you did!”

They pulled at each others’ cheeks, since they weren’t allowed to throw punches anymore. They
growled at each other, threatening to pull hair, and the class behind them giggled at the sight.

Nao felt warm.

“It’ll just be for a week or two, if you behave,” he said, reaching over to ruffle their hair, resting his
hands on either of their cheeks. “You’re going to find a way to save that Octopus, aren’t you? Then,
it should be fine for you to seal up your assassination techniques, just for a little bit.”
They both fell silent. Just a little, Nagisa leaned into the touch, and Karma looked at the hand from
the corner of his gaze.

“We decided to save him, but we’re still going to try to kill him,” Karma said. “We’re not giving up
on the assassination, either way. Our resolve doesn’t end here.”

Nagisa nodded. “But for now… just for a month, we’ll focus on our other blades, instead. The
blade that can save, instead of kill.”

Nao smiled at that. Their eyes burned into him with determination. It’s a far cry from the shy way
Nagisa has always hesitated, the dismissive way Karma had never take things seriously before.
Now, they knew what they wanted to do, and they were willing to tear past all the barriers in their
way to achieve it.

“I know you guys can do it,” he said. “But don’t forget. Sometimes, it’s better to just stop and take
a breath. So you can pick yourself up stronger than before.”

They nod at once. “We’d never forget that with you around, Kuma-sensei!”

Nao will never stop being proud of them all.

“You’re good for them,” Karasuma said.

Nao paused mid-sip of his coffee. “What brought that on?”

Karasuma looked outside the door, toward the hallways where the classroom was. Korosensei
kicked them out to discuss some super secret plan, so they were here, dejectedly chatting while
Irina tried to eavesdrop.

“The students,” Karasuma said. “They need someone like you up here. Someone that’s more than
a teacher, someone that’s a friend.”

Friend. Friend, that was an inappropriate title for a teacher to take.

“That Octopus is perfect, in every way,” Karasuma says. “He’s a good teacher, he understands
them all, better than anyone. But when it comes to them understanding him , it’s difficult. Even our
students can't possibly fully sympathize with such a tragic, multi-talented being whose existence is
functionally designed for education.”

It wasn’t as if Korosensei was unrelatable, but there was a gap. A gap that didn’t need to be
bridged for love to occur, but a gap nonetheless. That gap exists with Karasuma and Irina too,
simply because of differences in upbringing, tenure, and professional boundaries.

And that was exactly why Nao thrived up on this mountain, despite lacking the skills to stand up to
any of them in their main motive, assassination.

Nao was a flawed man, but he held onto what little pride he had with all the vigor of a man in hell
crawling up Buddha’s Spider Thread.

“You’re just like them,” Karasuma says. “They understand you, maybe more than you’ll ever
understand them. And that’s why they cling onto you. That’s why they find comfort in you.”
To them, Nao was synonymous to Class E itself. The hell it used to be, the little hopeless dungeon,
brimming with just one shine of hope, slowly building up into a place they can always come home
to.

Nao was flattered that Karasuma would say that about him. He was a tough, unemotional guy, but
that’s exactly why he’s capable of being completely honest like this. He just didn’t have a filter for
cheesiness.

Nao turned away, leaning against the wall, trying hard to suppress the bashful smile rising on his
face.

“I’m a little sad to watch them grow up,” he admitted.

Nao turned toward the classroom, where Irina was pouting, because Korosensei had found her
eavesdropping and placed a big ‘no bitch allowed’ partition door before the doors. She was too
offended to take it aside.

Nao turned toward Karasuma, and found him smiling in fond resignation.

“So,” Nao said. “Irina’s also grown up, huh?”

Karsuma recomposed himself in time to briefly murmur a, “I guess? She’s dressing with much
more respect for herself now. It’s a shame she’d have to go back to the underworld after this, where
all this development could go anywhere from there.”

Nao hummed. “Then, why don’t you take her in?”

“And why would I do that? And why would she accept?”

“Well, obviously, because she likes you and you’re starting to consider your own feelings for the
first time in your life?”

Karasuma took a minute. It was like he needed a complete system reset before he realized what
Nao’s mischievous grin implied, and he ground his teeth, hissing sharply in denial.

“Absolutely not!”

“Absolutely not what? Also did you know your eyes roll to the back of your head when you try
your hardest to lie to yourself?”

“Leave my sight, Kunomasu. Never appear before me again.”

“Okay. Just saying, but me telling you to realize you’re demiromantic is like, the first of at least
two different horrifying realizations you’ll need to face this month.”

“...what? WHAT? KUNOMASU, what do you know?!”

So, two weeks later, Karasuma found out that the students hijacked a space station and stole
experiment data. And then they happily sauntered home, like they’ve just been through a cheerful
field trip.
“Kuma-sensei! Zero gravity was so fun!”

Nagisa and Karma were by his side immediately. “I could spin Nagisa around like he was a fidget
spinner!”

“Yeah. Please tell him not to do that!” Nagisa whined. “I got dizzy! And he kept throwing loose
things around. They were so hard to gather back into their pouches before we have to strap back in
for landing!”

“Ritsu did all of the heavy work! She’s amazing!”

Nao praised them, of course. It was the least he could do, and it’s all they asked from him, so who
was he to not deliver.

To them, Nao was an irreplaceable hallmark of home.

“So, Ritsu?” Nao turned to the little girl in the phone. “Did you have fun?”

Ritsu nodded enthusiastically. “I think I’ve come to understand a lot more of ‘love’, Kuma-sensei!”
she reports. “And I realized! Love is right here, within me!”

Nao blinked in surprise at that.

Something that seemed to go without saying for humans was a magical revelation to her. But no…
maybe it wasn’t common sense, after all.

Ritsu was a robot. And she has proven that artificial intelligence was fully capable of love, and she
was excited to share it to the world.

“I see,” Nao said. “Love is there, too, huh? What a wonder!”

And when she smiled, it was like the universe was in her chest, filled with enough spare parts to
share with every lost soul in the world.

Meanwhile, Karasuma groaned longsufferingly into his hand. “I can’t imagine how many
apologies the authorities will want from me,” he said, utterly miserable.
 the few ways to kill a man.
Chapter Summary

The clock ticks toward the final assassination.

The story opens to its penultimate chapter.

Chapter Notes

The final chapter of OUTSiDER will be posted two days from now. There will be an
epilogue after that.

I will probably write some EXTRA oneshots for this fic after that, but no promises.

Korosensei won’t die. That’s what the data they found dictated.

Hearing that, the class celebrated. They took pictures, built the yearbook, and resolved to enjoy the
rest of their remaining time, readily attempting to assassinate Korosensei with their ever-growing
bloodlust.

And then, entrance exams for high school.

“Kuma-sensei, save usss~!” Fuwa whined, leaping into his arms as soon as she spotted him at the
entrance. “I’m dying! I’m going to cry from how anxious I am!”

Mimura sighed as well, in much of the same state.

They’re at the entrance of their first choice high school, lining up to register for the exams that’s
happening in two hours.

“It can look overwhelming, but I promise you that once you’re in there, it’ll be over before you
know it,” Nao chuckled. “No rest stops, so you just gotta trudge on.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better,” Mimura said, “when does the studying end and the fun
begin?”

“Studying is the fun part,” Nao insisted. “Exams suck, but once it becomes work , that’s when the
fun ends.”

“You’re depressing me, Kuma-sensei, stop!”

Mimura and Fuwa were headed for communication and mass media productions, which meant they
would need a good education record to give them a leg up on the field. This meant intensive
preparation for the taxing high school life to come, and it was honestly a little difficult to be hyped
for it.

Nao wasn’t very excited about it all, either.

(It was almost time, after all. For everything to end.)

The pressure of a looming deadline began to really weigh in, and Nao admired the students, that
they were able to throw themselves into their exams, if only more encouraged by the number of
days going down on the blackboard.

And still, Nao made the effort.

“Alright, it’s almost our turn,” Mimura took a breath, straightening himself and adjusting his collar.
Fuwa tidied her hair as well, fiddling with her button.

“Thanks for seeing us off, Kuma-sensei!” Fuwa said. “Korosensei dropped by just now, too. You
just missed him.”

“Are you headed to anyone else’s?”

Nao hummed. He can’t drop by everyone like the octopus can, so no sense in trying to catch him.
“I’m meeting Isogai and Kataoka after this, to catch them after their paper today. We’re going to a
family restaurant with Isogai’s siblings.”

“What, that’s so nice! I’m jealous!”

“If I do well here, can I have a Kuma-sensei privilege tooooo?”

“Don’t push your luck,” Nao sighed. “But okay, maybe tomorrow. I still need to give you back the
novel you were writing, with comments. Same to you for that script you wanted me to proof,
Mimura.”

“Yay!” Mimura and Fuwa clapped their hands together victoriously. “Kuma-sensei, you really
know how to give good celebratory gifts!”

Nao smiled. “Well, what can I do? I have students that love giving me homework.”

“And you finish them so fast!”

“Agh, now I can’t wait to hear what you think about it!” Fuwa said, miffed, “can’t you give it to
me now? The plot hole in Chapter 11’s been bugging me the whole week!”

“Oh, it just came to mind—” Mimura spoke up too, “I didn’t really think about it at the time, but
were my lines too elaborate for a movie script? I tried to keep them casual, but then I realized
movie and anime have differences for target audiences and—”

“Enough, enough,” Nao reached out to lightly tap on the top of their heads, “head in the entrance
exam, otaku duo! Ace the exam first, then I’ll give you the prize, alright?”

“Nooo, I’m too curious now!” Fuwa whined, “pretty please, Kuma-sensei?!”

“Please, this will bug me so much!” Mimura added, “I might lose sleep thinking about it!”

“Nuh-uh, puppy eyes don’t work on me,” Nao said. “Go on, godspeed.”
Though whining, they were grinning excitedly as they made their way in.

They entered the building side by side, backs pulle straight and heads held high with confidence.
They waved at Nao one last time, and then they never looked back again.

(They’ve all grown up, haven’t they?)

Nao stepped back, winding around the corner wall and sitting down at the first ledge that seemed
reasonably comfortable. There were other guardians and parents around, too, waiting out until the
kids finished their tests.

His eyes closed, not by his own will, and he tried to wrest away the spinning in his vision. The
weight of his shoulders made his fingers numb, and there’s a dull ringing in his ears that just didn’t
quite want to leave. There’s a floaty, tight ache in his head, not quite as painful as it is
uncomfortable.

He’s so tired.

Maybe he should have driven instead of walked, but the idea of needing to pay attention on the
road felt like a safety hazard right now.

It’s fine.

He managed a laugh out of his throat. He’s so winded, just from a twenty minute walk. He really
was laughably weak, with nonexistent stamina to speak of, horribly physically unfit. His students
would make fun of him if they could see him.

“Oh, what do I do,” he sighed, “now that I got comfortable, I can’t stand up again.”

Well, he’s sure Isogai and Kataoka wouldn’t mind if he were a little late.

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “They can go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Isn’t that gross?”

Itona asked him, tactlessly, right in front of his ramen and two steps away from the man that made
it.

“You don’t have to eat it, get out,” Muramatsu grumbled.

“Give your teacher something better to eat, won’t you?” Yoshida sighed.

Nao laughed as they bickered. He’d come in on a whim, honestly, and the warm soup filled him
with satisfaction. The taste wasn’t too bad, it just had a strange aftertaste that resembled rice wine,
but it wasn’t too unpleasant once you got used to it.

He couldn’t quite taste anything else, though.

“You three will be taking over your family businesses, right?” Nao changed the topic before
Muramatsu lost it and emptied the bowl over Itona’s head.
“Yeah,” Yoshida said, “I’m going to study a bit of engineering first, though. Get my chances up
with the basics.”

“And I’m taking business,” Muramatsu said. “Itona’s going straight into things.”

“I’ll be bunkering on them if things go south. Thanks in advance,” Itona declared, dryly. “Ritsu
will be helping me too.”

It sure was nice to already have an established connection of business friends during junior high.
Nao’s very envious.

“Stay connected, alright?” Nao said, unable to help himself, “it’ll get busy, but make sure to
treasure your connections with your old friends.”

Itona hummed. “Kuma-sensei, you don’t have any friends?”

Immediately, 999pts of damage.

“You don’t really get along with anyone your age, huh?” Yoshida says, “I’ve only ever seen you
with students, or maybe with Karasuma-sensei and Bitch-sensei. You don’t have any friends from
school?”

Stop it, my HP is in the negative.

“You guys are so rude,” Nao groaned. “Things happen in the process of becoming an adult,
alright?”

“You sure it’s not because of your weird obsession with bears?” Muramatsu asks.

That’s it.

“To begin with, the ones that started calling me Kuma-sensei were you guys !” he snapped, “it was
my first day teaching! I fumbled my name in my introduction and no one ever let me live it
down!”

“You’re headed for the school?”

Asano found him on the streets, like some kind of creepy stalker. He smiled, like he was supposed
to be there, and said, with all the gall of someone who wasn’t acknowledging any feedback right
now.

“Would you like a ride?”

Nao wondered if all the needling from the press and unwanted attention from the general public
was getting to him.

“Uhm… no thanks,” he said. “It’s barely worth a drive, anyways.”

“What a shame,” Asano said. “My offer is open for another day, though.”

Nao snorted. “I’ll call you if I need a road trip anytime soon, then.”
“I’ll keep my schedule open,” Asano assured.

“You are fucking embarraassing,” Gakushuu, when the hell was he there, rolled down the window
to scowl. “If this goes on for another second I am walking home.”

Well, that’s unusual, he’s sitting in the same car as his father. And he’s only rolling the window
down to the bare minimum, as if he’s trying to hide behind the tint.

“Oh dear, Gakushuu-kun,” Asano said, sarcastic, “you’re going to walk around in your boxers.?

To which Gakushuu screeches back, “I didn’t expect to be ambushed with a fucking GLITTER
BOMB today but look what I have to deal with!”

“Oh no, someone ambushed you with a glitter bomb? How unfortunate.”

“For fuck’s sake— I know it was— don’t act dumb, I WILL FIND A WAY TO PROVE IT,”
Gakushuu is borderline hysterical at this point, “I KNOW IT WAS YOU, OKAY?!”

“How barbaric, conduct yourself properly, are you really a model student of my school? I don’t
recall raising you to shout like this.”

“I DON’T RECALL YOU RAISING ME AT ALL.”

Nao had to double over and die of laughter on the side of the road.

“Kunomasu-sensei, are you okay? Would you like a ride to the nearest outpost, at least?”

“DON’T. KUMA-SENSEI, RUN BEFORE HE GETS YOU TOO.”

Nao wheezed.

“That’s really pretty…”

Nao expected to get Valentine’s chocolates, of course. What he didn’t expect was the
commissioned chocolate cake with a rather elaborate sculpture atop, of a chocolate bear holding a
huge lotus in its hands. The design spun onto the cake, swirls lining the edge of the cake, crumbles
coating the ganache, and edible gold and glitter encrusting a pathway to butterflies, over-the-top
hearts, and a chocolate-written card.

It’s just a small cake, but the decorations made it look worthy of a luxury restaurant.

Happy Valentine’s, Kuma-sensei.

“We couldn’t decide what to get you, so the class pitched in,” Nakamura beamed, clearly proud. “I
commissioned it!”

“W- was it… really expensive?” Nao asked, honestly a little mortified, “because it really looks
expensive.”

“It’s fine,” Nakamura says, “the cake artist is pretty influential, so it’ll be useful for me in the
future. And she’s helping Hara get info on a culinary college she wants to attend in the future as
well, so it’s honestly only wins for us.”

Nao felt like crying.

“Oh, just between you and me,” Nakamura leaned in to whisper, “I commissioned one more cake!
It’s super over my budget, but oh well, the things I do, you know…”

One more cake…

(Ah, that’s right. March was already upon them. The final cake for Korosensei…)

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Nao said. “Thanks, Nakamura. I almost don’t want to eat this cake, it’s so
adorable.”

“Awh, but it’s be such a waste!” Nakamura pouted. “Can I take a picture at least. I promised to
send her your reaction.”

“You’re really pulling ahead on the social connections, huh?” Nao chuckled, raising a V sign as
she systematically took a picture. “Gonna be a repeat customer? Your savings are gonna run dry!”

“Customer loyalty benefits! I’m sure she’ll give me a discount one day,” Nakamura beamed.
“Even if she doesn’t, keeping contact is good. I’m thinking I can side as an influencer for some
extra income, so this is a good launching point.”

“Wow, you think far.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I probably won’t show my face much though. Not a fan of my small eyes.
But one of the charms of the internet is that I can stay faceless, right?”

They’re all thinking deeply about their futures, from the big issues to the small details, to the ins
and outs of fun endeavours and new hobbies they want to dip their feet into.

Nao couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

“Oh! I gotta go,” Nakamura said, when her phone chimed with a message. The grin gracing her
face as she left is mischievous. “We’re going to bully Kayano today, so see ya tomorrow, Kuma-
sensei! Enjoy the cake!”

“Will do,” Nao assured.

The door closed, and the staffroom settled into silence.

Nao watched the cake for a long, comforting moment, unable to bring himself to eat it. It’s a
treasure, no doubt, but he knew that it was made to be eaten, and its fleeting nature was the charm
of the art form to begin with.

He’s not really hungry, and he’s never been too much a fan of chocolate. He hasn’t been able to
work up an appetite for a few days now, so he’s rather sure he wouldn’t be able to finish it either.

But he took up a fork and made sure to savour every bite.

It’s bitter. It’s probably not supposed to be. But he enjoys it anyway.
“You’re still here,” Karasuma said, passing by the staffroom. “Come on, I'll drive you.”

Nao’s coffee was still warm in his hands.

“...no, I think I’ll stay,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make a secret climb back up in one
week. Won’t it be easier if I just stayed here?”

Karasuma paused.

“You’re nonsensical,” he huffed. “What don’t you know? I haven’t even mentioned this to Irina,
and yet…”

Nao chuckled, placing down the mug to peruse the photos on the desk. Karasuma had confiscated
the one of him and Irina in bridal wear, but they’re all rather sure the octopus had copies.

“You’ve got plans for this in the future?” Nao teased. “Ah, and ask Sakurai Florists’ for flower
arrangements. Ms Sakurai would be delighted with the business.”

“Don’t make me knock you out and drag you down the mountain,” Karasuma grumbled. “And like
hell I will. I’m not signing up for all the teasing you’re preparing.”

Nao’s smile wrinkled.

Alas, nothing misses Karasuma’s mark. “And don’t change the subject. You’re not supposed to
know this, so you’d better come with me,” Karasuma said. “You could do with an infusion at the
hospital, anyways. You haven’t been eating.”

Nao sighed. “I escape the house only to get nagged at school…”

“Oh, so you do know it’s a problem!” Karasuma snapped. “For fuck’s sake, come on.”

Nao’s gotten accustomed to being grabbed and thrown over a shoulder over the past year, but it’s
still rather jarring. Karasuma’s strong enough to do it with one arm and make sure he’s
comfortable, even.

“I already said I wanted to stay,” Nao groaned in frustration, crossing his arms on Karasuma's
back.

“I’ll carry you back up,” Karasuma said. “Anytime you want, just give me a call. I’ll be your
private courier service, for all it’d mean. So could you just be cooperative for one day and let me
carry you down the damn mountain?”

He’s serious.

He’s speaking as if he’s trying to joke around, but his voice is low and impatient, and he just
wasn’t meeting Nao in the eyes at the moment.

Nao mulled. How’s he supposed to say no to that?

“Alright, fine,” Nao said, sighing in defeat.

Karasuma then put him back on his feet, and Nao reached for his coat, leaving behind all his
papers on the desk, the coffee half-touched.
“But in exchange… hmm,” Nao followed him out, shutting off the lights. “Ah, right. Name your
firstborn after me!”

“I don’t even know where to begin retorting to that…” Karasuma cuffed Nao on the head lightly.
“What makes you think I’ll have children, anyways?”

Nao grinned.

“I’ve actually got superpowered future sight abilities!” he boasted. “I’m all-knowing. But I’m
super weak in exchange.”

Karasuma levelled him with a stupendously impressive disappointed dad look.

Nao burst out laughing immediately.

When the spear of heaven struck down on the mountain, Nao didn’t do anything. He was in no
rush, even though the students were in a frenzy and Karasuma was busy under orders of the
government to do damage control. He stays home, even when Irina calls him with news that the
students were under protective custody by the military. He simply waited.

“So, what’s this about you being held hostage by an alien terrorist?”

Ms Sakurai fixed him with a very concerned stare.

“I honestly don’t know, Ms Sakurai, I thought it’d be super impolite to ask why the guy had
tentacles,” Nao said, completely stone-faced, monotonous, “you know, like you don’t exactly ask
why some customers have vitiligo or missing fingers sometimes. I thought it was none of my
business yeah?”

Ms Sakurai gave a longsuffering sigh.

“I understand now. You don’t want to tell me anything,” she said. “But how long will you stay
home?”

“You’re chasing me out?”

“Of course not, I wish you’d be this quiet on a normal day,” she corrected, arms crossed, eyes set in
a frown. “But I know you. You want to go out, don’t you? Then hurry up and tell me, I need to
know how much dinner to make.”

Nao couldn’t help but feel like a child again.

It’s a very nice feeling.

“Can we have dinner together tonight?” he asked. “I’ll go out tomorrow. Won’t be back for a while
after that, so…”

He trailed off.

He didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t know how to tell her he wanted to spend a long time away,
instead of staying by her side like a filial son would.
(He’s never been a filial son, so, nothing’s really changed.)

Ms Sakurai took a long, understanding moment to prepare her response. She carefully set down her
gardening scissors, tidying the leaves on the carnations before untying her apron.

“I see, that’s alright. Of course, I know your habits,” she said. “Would you help me close up the
shop? I want to start cooking earlier tonight. Anything you want to eat?”

Nao didn’t trust himself to look her in the eye right now.

He didn’t trust his voice not to shatter when he produced a response.

But he spoke anyway, hand reaching over his face in a vain attempt to hide the sob that escaped in
time with his first syllable.

“I don’t know… there’s a lot on my mind, and everything you make is good,” he forced the words
out of himself, as many as he could. “But it’s too late now for something complicated, so… that’s
right. Let’s have Oyakodon!”

Ms Sakurai bubbled into laughter. “You’re rambling, Nao-kun,” she managed. “I’ll make Miso
Soup to go with it, then.”

Nao preferred not to interpret anything in the way she gently dabbed at her eyes, one after another,
before giving in and turning away to hide.

Nao did not say anything. And she said nothing, too.

Systematically, as if this were just another night after a long day of work— they sat together
around the dinner table, and simply chatted about their day.

And the next morning, Nao left, as if he were simply headed for work.

Ms Sakurai had left a message for him on the counter— a single yellow daffodil.

(He’d received a yellow rose on his first day at Class E, too. And it made him reminisce— What
did yellow mean again?)

“A promise of new beginnings?” he wondered. It’s a daffodil, flowers for the New Year, flowers of
springtime. It’s a flower of hope in this cold winter.

(Ah, right. For something to begin, something must end. Daffodils are a symbol of rebirth, of better
things to come. Of the vain hope Ms Sakurai held, that she knew from the very start was not for
her.)

He needed to prepare a response.

The flowers weren’t prepared for the morning yet, so Nao reached into the storage, looking for the
flowers he knew lay in the furthest back of the house.

He simply set it upon the counter before leaving. He left his house keys as well, straightening the
bear keychain upon it so it sat upright as well.
Nao adjusted the blue scarf around his neck, perusing the edge, where a cruddy bear stitch stared
back at him with its unemotional expression. He smiled.

“Thank you.”

Neither the bear nor the single blue rose on the counter responded.

It’s the day before D-day, and Nao found himself at the military outpost where Irina and Karasuma
were stationed.

The kids raided the mountain, and now the teachers were being assigned to stop them. Not that
they would, but Nao followed them up to the mountain, to the distant hums of the tail end of a
birthday song.

Nao turned toward the roof before the attack came.

And the bare second before the tentacle struck the birthday cake, Nao’s eyes met Yanagisawa’s.
His eyes widened at the large, tentacled monstrosity he’d become.

Perhaps, since the Ran, Second Reaper, was not here to be utilized as the final weapon,
Yanagisawa had resorted to himself as his greatest asset.

It made sense.

What didn’t make sense was that one glance toward him made Yanagisawa change the trajectory
of his attack.

The first hit was not supposed to kill anyone. Yanagisawa had aimed for the cake last time, only to
announce his presence, startling and trampling over the momentous occasion. He had wanted to
draw out the final confrontation, to make the losing battle as agonizing as it could be for
Korosensei.

So he did not aim to instantly kill this time, either.

Perhaps, that was a small mercy.

Instead, Nao felt the impact the second it struck his ribs and his body caved in, and once his feet
lost hold of the ground— he was sent flying.

No one could react as he plunged right over the crowd of students, across their vision— and his
body hit the ground in a painful, rough drag across the field, rolling past the soil and failing to
grind to a stop until he was near the other end of the field, coughing up everything in his stomach.

He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t open his eyes.

Something yelled for him.

Nao claimed to be omniscient, but he’s only human.

 memoir of an outsider. [END]
Chapter Summary

On the home stretch.

Chapter Notes

Welcome to the final chapter. It's been a long road and I can't thank all of you enough
for joining me all the way to the end. Currently, it's morning for me. The epilogue will
be posted this evening.

“I’m sorry, Kunomasu-sensei, I broke my promise.”

Nao awoke to Korosensei’s dry, deeply seething apology— and he couldn't even be mad. He didn’t
get impaled— but getting flung across the air at the speed of Mach 40 could kill a normal human
being,a nd Nao really wasn’t a normal human being in terms of vitality.

He felt his bones get slowly pieced back together, set and conjoined, before the broken skin slowly
mended bit by bit— and he felt easy breath come back into him.

Yeah, they promised a long time ago that Korosensei wouldn’t try to extend his life, didn’t they?
Guess that promise’s off the table in emergencies.

“That’s fine,” he said, looking around and sighing at the tearful faces around him. “Looks like I
lose the bet, huh?”

Korosensei’s face was pitch black.

“So… what’s the verdict?” he wondered.

Could Korosensei heal him, after all?

“...you’re not recovered,” Korosensei said. “I can heal, as much as insane precision and speed may
allow me— but unfortunately, even the greatest of fantastical beings cannot bring life back to a
body that had been long dead.”

Someone held back a whimper of despair.

But Nao simply smiled.

He knew from the start. This body was not a second life— it was simply god’s joke, a little
hallucination of some extended time. When his heart began rotting while inside of him, he knew it
was only a matter of time before it stopped pretending to work.
Now, even if Korosensei healed his heart, the infection had spread into his blood, and will
eventually fester once again, if not in his heart, it would be anywhere else his blood reached, akin
to cancer.

His body is already giving in like an elderly man’s, from the lack of energy to the loss of appetite,
slowly shutting down and waiting for the day to slowly, gradually, use up the last of its battery.

“I can give you a last light to sprint to the end, but that’s where my abilities end,” Korosensei said.
Then, surprisingly, “congratulations, Kunomasu-sensei. You’ve officially baffled me.”

Nao burst out into a dry laugh.

He didn’t regret anything. A last surge of energy to live another day or two— that was already
much more than he expected to have. Hell, he even went through the effort of reassembling his
body. That must have been one hell of a jigsaw puzzle.

Enough about me, he wanted to say, but didn’t quite have the strength.

Instead, he lifted his head and glanced toward Yanagisawa, who had been smugly standing aside,
granting them a very gratuitous moment of privacy.

Understanding the message, Korosensei gently set Nao back down, Karasuma coming by
immediately to take him, laying him down on the ground. The students gathered immediately.

Nao pulled himself up, clinging onto Kimura’s side, leaning against Karasuma’s shoulder, reaching
up to wipe away the tears already streaming down Kurahashi’s face. He understood.

The final battle was hardly over yet.

“Ah…” he turned, looking over toward the rest of the students. “Is… the cake alright?”

Nakamura squawked, “is that seriously the first thing you say?!”

Yes. The cake was intact.

Ironically, Kayano was much cleaner and easier to heal.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Yada wasn’t quite ready to let go of her just yet. That was
way too close for comfort, and their only assurance was that Kayano was actually fully healed.

Korosensei wasn’t failing another one of his students ever again.

(“You know, Kunomasu-sensei. I am immensely grateful for you,” Korosensei admitted, moments
later, when the battle ended and Shiro was flung into the barrier, decimated beyond repair. “You
gave him the closure I couldn’t.”)
(And Nao had to take a moment to remember what he was referencing.)

(Ran.)

(“Until the end… I couldn’t see him,” Korosensei said, mournfully. “If there is anything I regret
now, it would be him.”)

(And Nao chuckled, resting a hand upon his side.)

(“You’re allowed to make mistakes,” Nao assured. “What would I be as an assistant homeroom
teacher, if it’s not to cover for your mishaps?”)

(The way Korosensei cradled him in a hug after that— it was comforting, cheesy, stupid— but Nao
understood, and returned it.)

(“I’ve done it for you, so you don’t have to regret it anymore,” Nao promised. Now, focus on the
present. Your current students are still waiting on you. )

With Korosensei cradled between all of his students, Nagisa sitting upon his chest with a knife at
his heart— it was complete silence around them.

“Now, let’s take attendance,” Korosensei said.

Nao rested against Karasuma’s shoulder as Korosensei lifted his head to look at them. This moment
was for the students, and the teachers had no right to interfere with this moment— and thus, they
simply watched.

“Ah, but if I may, Kunomasu-sensei?” he said. “I don’t think I’ll have the chance to say this later,
so I’ll say it now.”

Nao scoffed. What a cheesy dumbass.

“See you later, Kunomasu-sensei. I’ll be going on ahead.”

Nao smiled, though his eyes brimmed with traitorous tears. He managed to speak, though his voice
croaked. He’ll blame it on the pain that still lingered in his senses, throbbing through him like an
extra vein. The burning in his eyes, and the ache in his head is definitely not because he’s crying.

“That’s fine… I’ll catch up soon.”

Korosensei chuckled back.

And then, everything ended.

Graduation had come and gone, but nothing was over yet.

The students brightened, after a night of mourning, lifting their heads high and trying their best to
strive forward on the path laid out for them.

“How intriguing… it really is functioning like binding cells,” Okuda lifted the MRI scans and X-
rays to peruse. “Kayano’s already started healing them over. Kuma-sensei’s healing is going rather
slowly, though.”

The two of them, after the mountain quarantine ended, were cajoled right into the hospital for a
proper checkup.

“I can’t even begin to imagine the potential this has for the future of medication…” Okuda
whispered. “If only we could continue to develop this…”

“We can,” Nao said.

Korosensei wasn’t here anymore— but they have the research, they have the beginnings, and they
have the records of failures and successes. Korosensei had left them a guide, scribbled up in Mach
20 after he'd healed Nao. They just need to decipher it, along with all of the rest of the details in the
yearbooks, guidebooks, and everything else Korosensei had left for them.

It didn’t work on Nao because it was too late and his body was too weak. But as proven by Kayano
— a healthy and able body can adapt to it like a glove and grow even stronger than before.

“It’ll take a while from here… but I know you can do it one day,” Nao said. “If you manage to
bring it back up to the standards of Korosensei once more…”

Then maybe, one day, someone like Nao could live.

“I’ll support you, Okuda!” Kayano says, enthusiastic. “Itona and I, we’re prime test subjects for
you, right? Then, feel free to use us all you want!”

“I’m rather interested as well,” Takebayashi says, “you’ll take the chemistry part of the problem.
I’ll be in the medical field to keep the road open for you.”

Okuda’s smile was bright.

They had their paths spread out for them, and Nao was almost saddened that he couldn’t be here to
see it all come to fruition. If only he had some way to support them onward, like Korosensei
could…

(Ah, that’s right.)

(In any field, it’s important to have connections to rely on in the future.)

“GIve me a second…” Nao reached for his phone, “I’ll give you an address. There’s a kid around
that’s got the same illness as me, and it’ll be to your benefit if you get in contact with him.”

Nao didn’t have their numbers, but if he dug around, perhaps he could find a return address.
“I don’t get how you can act so weak and pathetic all the time,” Terasaka muttered.

Karma laughed, “I’d ask the same, but it came in handy with Houjou Craig, didn’t it?”

Nao wondered if he should be offended. “It’s not that I’m acting like it,” he insisted, “I am weak
and pathetic. Physically, at least.”

“That’s exactly the thing, you aren’t ,” Terasaka groaned, “we’ve seen you crush a steel bar with
your bare hands, alright? You’re not lying your way out of this one.”

“Plus, didn’t you end up here in the first place because you punched a teenager or something?”
Karma snickered, “your innate ability for violence is definitely there. You’re no pacifist like
Nagisa.”

Yeah, Nao should probably be offended.

“I am the most pacifistic pacifist you’ll ever see,” Nao said.

“Doubt,” Karma called.

“Bullshit,” Terasaka echoed.

“What is the point here?!” Nao threw his arms up, frustrated. “The point of the conversation, let’s
get to it, come on now!”

Terasaka relented at that.

“You’re very careful about who you fight and who you don’t. So, all the battles you’ve picked thus
far,” Terasaka said, “were they worth it?”

Terasaka and Karma had a penchant for violence that couldn’t be suppressed. It goes against their
very instincts to turn away from a fight. That’s why a creature like Nao is intriguing to them, to the
degree that they can’t quite comprehend his existence.

And yet, Nao wasn’t a pacifist.

He was just incredibly selective about his battles. He’d chosen to face Asano, head on. And when
the Second Reaper and even Yangisawa came toward him, he didn’t back down. And those, thus
far, had been their most terrifying opponents to date.

“It’s not me who decides if they were worth it,” Nao said. “I don’t think I’ll ever know if they
were. I don’t have time for hindsight.”

That’s a lie. He’s got plenty of time for hindsight— it’s his day job, honestly. His hobby.

“Let’s say I'm the main character of my little, insignificant story,” Nao said. “The pen of god
guides my every action, and thus I do not have the right to interpret my own decisions. My actions
may not always be rational enough to warrant any deep insight to begin with—so it’s not about the
whim that compelled me to choose my fights— it’s about what happened afterward.”

He chose to fight that day against those insignificant children, and here he was. The man that
existed then no longer felt like himself, and yet, it was the core sequence that made him who he is
today.

“I can’t give you the marking scheme,,” Nao said. “But both of you are now more than capable of
producing an answer sheet that’ll earn you promising results, even without me helping you each
step of the way. Right?”

(So one day, when you’re done perusing the piece of literature known as Kunomasu Naomasa …
your way forward will open naturally, just like it did for me.)

(You will be compelled, too, by the pen of god that is just as whimsical as a young child. Perhaps,
it will make no sense. But it is the path you’ve been put on, and the world moves on regardless.)

It’ll still be in the far future, though.

Because literature is always a study of written works with lasting artistic merit, and Nao tended to
favour enduring pieces from eras gone by.

Nao didn’t go home. He wondered, long and hard throughout the night, of all the places he wanted
to go to in the world.

There weren’t a lot of them. There were even less that were feasible. So he perused his older
brother’s address, considered the words Namimori that were so familiar yet so foreign— and
decided to look it up.

It’s just a couple stations away, so he makes the effort.

“[It’s two stops away from a transfer, and then five stops to your destination! Estimated
duration of journey… 45 minutes!]” Ritsu reported.

“Alright, thank you,” Nao said.

His coat is warm, the blue scarf wrapped cozily around his neck. Ritsu chimes in with directions,
eager to help him out as his personal GPS, and he finds himself enjoying the train ride out.

Namimori is a quaint little town, smaller and much more out of the way than Kunugigaoka.

Nao breathed in deeply, and the air was much fresher than before. It didn’t hurt to strain himself a
little more than usual, and no matter how much he walked, he didn’t feel tired. This miraculous
burst of vitality was Korosensei’s last gift to him. He’ll make sure to savour as much of it as he can
before it runs out.

“Can you find a house for me, Ritsu?”

He hesitated. He hadn’t spoken this name in a long, long time. But his brother doesn’t live in
Namimori. His sister's husband does. And he knows that name only once, so long ago, and he’d
honestly thought he’d forgotten.

“Is there a house in the area called the ‘Ninomiya’?”

The house is empty. He finds its occupants in the local park, after asking around.

Ninomiya Rei, his nephew, looks like him. Brown hair, green eyes— he looks like his mother,
misfortunately enough. There are others in the park, two girls he’s looking after, a friend he’s
chatting with—

—for a moment, Nao wondered if he was looking at a younger version of himself.

That child was probably a reincarnator too, and thus, he was a tragedy yet to happen. Rei’s illness
lay in his lungs. It hasn’t really interfered with his life yet, but he’s under supervision and regular
checks, just in case.

It was a little unfair. He was born later, and thus, he had a better chance. He had an obligation to
fight, and he had the opportunity to actually win.

Now, Rei sat on the bench to rest, while the others continued to play.

If Nao wanted to approach him, there was no better time than the present. But his feet were stapled
to the ground, and even if he approached, he wouldn’t know what to say. This child was not him,
and thus, his adventure is not a story he should read.

Maybe he should just observe. And leave, before he starts looking too suspicious standing here. Or
he could just walk over and pretend to pass by… but what was the point? There wouldn’t be any,
he just wanted some vague sense of accomplishment for making it all the way out here.

He didn’t get to decide, though, because in the next moment a violent gust of wind took him by
surprise, and he didn’t get a hold onto his scarf before it unraveled and whipped high into the air,
breezing down the hill toward the park.

Rei snatched it out of the air, and a few swirls of his head brought his eyes toward Nao, who stood
at the entrance of the park.

Nao’s features softened.

Surely, fate still had a few surprises in store for him.

“Uhm… is this yours?” Rei brought himself to his feet, and Nao endeavoured to meet him in the
middle.

He sounded like his mother, too.

Nao was speaking before he could even remember to be nervous.

“Yes, thank you. It’s very important to me.”

Nao tossed the scarf loosely around his neck again. It was warm, even when the weather didn’t
quite require it any longer. Even as the assassination classroom ends, this will always feel like
home.

Nao lifted his head toward the children in the park. A pair of little girl twins, and an older boy,
chasing each other around in shadow tag. They giggled, free and without a single concern in their
lives. That’s good. Very good.

“Your friends?” he prompted.

Rei was staring at him, and when addressed, he jumped, caught. He jut out an affirmative.

“Yeah… and my sisters.”

Sisters?

Kazu didn’t mention any sisters. That asshole.

“Sisters, huh?” Nao could have laughed. Kazu must have really wanted Nao to come and see for
himself, if he kept such a fun detail out. A curse under his breath, “oh, come on. What on earth is
that witch of a sister doing?”

Kazane had three children with this man. She loved him, had three children with him, but then
refused to raise them.

She’s a piece of crap, through and through.

(But then again, maybe it was good enough that she left so much behind. Nao wasn’t leaving
anything physical in the end, and that made him sad. Maybe Kazane was trying her hardest, too, to
leave something behind.)

(Maybe he's reading too much into blue curtains and she's just a terrible person, period.)

Nao set a hand on Rei’s head, ruffling his hair gently. “If you’re the big brother, you better take
care of them, alright?”

Rei pouted, swiping away the offending hand. “Obviously, I will,” his strong energy is adorable on
a young child. “I’m the man of the family when dad isn’t home, after all.”

Nao chuckled. “Right, right. My bad.”

Rei could definitely do it. This child was born in the cloud of so much terrible parentage— maybe
that’s how he’ll come out stronger than the others, the only diamond in the heaps of coal.

“Protect your family, and you’ll be able to live in peace and harmony forevermore, right?”

A fairy-tale ending like that… Rei can achieve it. Nao failed, so Rei may succeed.

“Not that dramatic, though,” Rei sneered.

“You’re one feisty kid,” Nao sighed. Can’t a kid be a little poetic and cheesy? He’s no fun at all.
“Don’t you have something you’d consider your happiness?”

Rei scowled. “Of course I do,” he says. “Everyone’s got happiness! Haven’t you found yours, old
man?”
Old— Nao burst into laughter. He just got called old?

Nao’s hardly old.

Nao’s much too young to die.

But being referred to as old— he really does feel like it, at least. To a child, even his short life felt
long.

Happiness— Happiness was such an easy thing to find.

Nao had no idea how to hold onto it, so he simply never felt like he’d had it.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s a dumb question, isn’t it?” Nao sighed. “About as dumb as ‘what’s the meaning
of life’ or something. I guess only old melancholic bastards like me really care about stuff like
that.”

“You just said a bad word.”

“Shh, I’m an adult. I can say it.”

Nao wondered what he had been so nervous about. Rei was a charming child, and he was just a
passing uncle that wanted dry conversation. The chatter came easily, the laughter filled his heart
with warmth— and now that the weight was off his chest, he felt the exhaustion, slowly creeping
in with the relief and satisfaction in his heart.

He shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

Nao gave the three playing children one last glance. They reminded him of his own kids, back at
campus— and it made him really miss the scenery of Class E.

“You’ve got all this happiness in your hands-- so I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Nao said. “Don’t
become a deadbeat like me, alright?”

Nao turned away and left, feeling fulfilled.

TO: Asano-san

FROM: Me

I need a ride up the mountain

To get my stuff T^T

My coffee’s probs moldy

TO: Me

FROM: Asano-san

For the sake of all that is holy

Do not attempt to drink it.

TO: Asano-san

FROM: Me

I WASN’T GOING TO
I’M NOT DUMB

TO: Me

FROM: Asano-san

Yes you are.

Nao’s a little very offended, but Asano drove him up to the satellite campus, where everything was
cleaned and tidied, as if a new school day was coming.

Everything except Nao’s desk, which Korosensei hadn’t had the opportunity to clean up. His
coffee mug’s full of mold, and Asano had insisted it be tossed rather than salvaged.

In the end, Nao had to wait for Asano to retrieve new mugs and make a fresh batch.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” Asano declared, and Nao wondered if that was an order or a prediction.
It certainly didn’t sound like an invitation. “I do not trust you to go home and have a proper meal.
And I am free.”

Well, win-win.

Nao blew on his coffee, watching the heat waft out in billows.

“Where’s Shuu-kun?” he wondered.

“He is at Sakakibara-kun’s place,” Asano said. “Apparently, the five of them are having a
preemptive committee briefing for the year to come. I expect my son to take over Kunugigaoka
High by June.”

What.

“They’re planning world domination?” Nao asked. “Even though graduation just happened?”

“Yes.”
Nao sighed. Alright, let’s go back to the start of the conversation and filter this into humanspeak.
“I’m guessing they’re actually having a celebratory party for graduating, and he’s staying over
tonight to avoid you,” Nao interpreted. Gakushuu wasn’t the type to do that, so it must be the
Virtuosos dragging him into the world of being a teenager. “That’s nice. He’s made friends.”

“I’m also grateful that he has made healthy connections,” Asano said.

Let’s not mention the irony in that sentence.

Things are going well, even after Korosensei’s passing. Nao sat down by the couch with a sigh,
taking a sip of the warm coffee. In a way, it was appropriate for his last stop today to be this
building. It was just about time for school to be out on a normal day, and the sunset was always
gorgeous from this very window.

“Sit with me?” he asked. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted with a chuckle, slouching a little on the
chair. “Spent the whole day running around. I’m spent.”

“Sure.”

They hadn't had a session in a while.

So they talk. About nothing, about the world, about the moon, about the future. Sitting in the staff
office of the former Class 3-E, they sat with a cup of coffee between them, chatter and laughter
passing through their lips.

Nao took a sip or two, but didn’t come close to finishing his coffee.

Standing up, he reached for the curtains, pulling it apart to view the breathtaking sunset.

Just a few months ago, there would always be students outside, greeting him, hounding him-- and
smiling at him. They’ve all grown up, and in a very teacher-like fashion, Nao is left behind, simply
hoping for their best to come true for them.

He’s not just hoping, though. He knows it will come true. It's just something that goes without
saying in life-- something inevitable, like destiny.

“It’s... a beautiful view,” Asano said.

Nao hummed in response. He leaned back, admiring the spill of light orange on his fingers—
burning, but gentle.

“It’s such a warm day out,” Nao chuckled. “Makes you wanna take a nap, huh?”

Asano took a moment to respond, which was strange. Eventually, he spoke, and his voice was
softer than anything Nao had ever heard from him before.

“Go right ahead.”

Nao didn’t look up toward him-- so he wasn’t sure what kind of face the former Board Chairman
was making then.

“Alright then. Thanks. Asano-san,” he smiled.

And Nao leaned into the backrest, looking silently at the window, hoping with just a little in his
heart that one of his students would show up over the horizon, charge right into the staffroom, and
drag him out into the sun again.

But alas, his children have all grown up now.

His eyes shut in a long, calming breath— and he reminded himself that the kids had graduated, and
nothing was left in this satellite campus but sweet memories.

Nao set the mug of coffee down on the table.

“I already miss them all.”

“Yeah.”

Alas, that’s the life of a teacher. The kids grow up and graduate, and you’ll have to get ready for
the next cohort immediately. Rinse and repeat.

“Wake me up later,” Nao said, his voice just above a whisper. He managed to open his eyes just a
little to catch the man looking at him. He chuckled at that. “You’re bringing me out to dinner,
right? It’d better be a fancy place. You’re rich, after all.”

Nao felt a warm hand in his, burning hot fingers wrapping around his icy ones. He didn’t complain,
though-- they were a little comforting, to be honest.

“Yeah,” Asano repeated himself, like a broken record. “I’ve already made a reservation, and I’ll try
my best not to disappoint.”

Nao let his eyes close fully, and breathed out, slowly.

“That’s good, then. Good night.”

The sun was warm, and he found himself leaning into a hand that came up to rest against his cheek.
He sighed, finally allowing himself to succumb to the heavy, heavy exhaustion in his bones. Food
sounds like a great idea. Maybe he’ll call the class to a restaurant. Maybe a buffet, splurge a little.
And they can have one last meal together to commemorate.

To say goodbye.

(He hates goodbyes. No one’s ever ready for them, and he dreads that he’ll have to face their
tearful, miserable expressions all over again.)

But for now, all the worries of the future could wait.

Right now… he just wanted to sleep.

Something warm touched his forehead for just a brief second. It was gone as quickly as it came, the
sensation so fleeting he wondered if it was ever there at all.

Nao didn’t hear the words that followed.

“...Good night, Kunomasu-sensei."
 epilogue.
Chapter Summary

Toward the future.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Hah! What is that, Terasaka?"

It's normal for people to immediately bust their guts in laughter when they see the pink bear phone
strap on Terasaka's mobile. It's incongruent to his image and appearance, and his superiors really
see it as an indication that he's a pushover.

But well, Teraskaa signed up for this career that basically gets you bullied left and right, so he
digresses.

He's just an apprentice. He'll tolerate until he's the bully again.

"The gap moe is pretty cute though," a female superior snickered at the sight. It's not as much
mocking as it is looking down on him, but it still feels just as snide.

Terasaka sighed.

This is a fight that's not worth picking. He knows that much.

"It's pretty lame, isn't it?" Terasaka chuckled, following at their pace. "But I can't remove it till I fix
all these mistakes in the report. Keeps me motivated, yanno?"

(One day, when Terasaka, Karma, Kayano, Nakamura, Okuda, and so many more of them all make
it as prominent figures of their fields, the single similar item they treasure, pink and fluffy and so
uncharacteristical, becomes a hidden hallmark of people who must not be antagonized.)

(Only then does Terasaka laugh loud and boisterous, exclaiming with confidence against the
people who demean it.)

"Na~gisa-sensei!"

Nagisa wailed. One of his students just sauntered into the classroom, it's seventh period, and he's
clutching Starbucks in one hand, like nothing was wrong.

"Here, I got you a Blue Hawaii Latte," he said, happily presenting it.

"Why does that exist? Why would you latte a Blue Hawaii?" Nagisa snapped out of it, "I mean.
Tasaru-kun! Get serious, you can't just walk in this late!"
"Hey, it's surprisingly good, you know! Also, I got lost."

"And yet you found Starbucks."

"It was the only logo I recognized. I felt like being illiterate today."

"You can't just turn your literacy off!"

Nagisa sighed longsufferingly. As if being stuck with a class of problem children was bad enough,
he had to deal with eccentrics, too.

"You know I'm going to have to stop accepting bribes like this," Nagisa argued.

He'd been turning up late every day, but he's also been buying him stuff so he'd feel nice enough to
change that 'Late' to a 'Present' on his attendance record. His hopes of graduating were looking real
bleak at this point. At least his grades were alright.

"Awh, but you love me, Nagisa-sensei!"

Nagisa sighed deeply.

"Enough, enough, I get it. Go back to your seat," he relented. It was nice, though, to be equally
pampered and bullied by his own students. It was nostalgic, in a way.

"Yay! Nagisa-sensei still loves me!"

"I didn't say you were forgiven," Nagisa insisted. "Tasaru-kun, you along with everyone whose
names I'm going to call now..." there was a loud gasp across the hall, "yes. You failed your pop
quiz. You know what that means."

A loud wail of despair roared through the classroom.

Nagisa happily retrieves a bagfull of Mase Haruna merch. It wasn't even the subtle merch, it was
the gaudy, hugely-printed, garishly coloured, most otaku-like merch of the whole official
merchandise variety. This included a haori printed with her face in eyestrain neon colours,
obnoxiously-adorned keychains with too much glitter, and oversized stickers that loudly declared
that they would die for Mase Haruna.

"Come on up and pick your piece! Because you guys have to wear this somewhere obvious for the
next week!" Nagisa beamed.

"OH MY GOD it's worse than last time!"

"How are you even GETTING THOSE?!"

Nagisa rarely looked this spirited doing anything at all.

"Let's just say I have access to rejected merchandise samples. It was hard to get the school to
approve of you guys wearing these on campus, so be grateful."

"You're making us the laughingstock of the school, Nagisa!"

"You think you're not already the laughingstock of the school, Class Chaos?!"
Meanwhile, in a certain well-furnished orphanage, a class that involved various elementary school
students was in session.

Emphasis on was.

"Hey kids! Guess who's here?!"

Every pre-teen in the building immediately bolted up and away from the blackboard, charging
toward the front door. Araki Teppei stepped in with a box full of fast food, and he got a loud hurray
as a welcome.

Asano Gakuho sighed, setting down his chalk.

"Teppei-kun. I've mentioned quite a few times to wait until I'm done."

"Isn't it fine, they've got plenty of time before their exams, they can take it a little easy," Sakakibara
Ren smiled as he entered with drinks. "Ah, Former Board Chairman, we bought a souvenir for you
as well."

It's a tiny little keychain of the Eiffel tower.

Asano accepted it. "Thank you, Ren-kun."

It was probably another cheap tourist souvenir, like the multiple that now decorated his office in
this building. It had started off as an attempt by Gakushuu to make fun of his father, since Asano
was rich enough to not appreciate an expensive or perishable gift like wine. Unexpectedly, his
father genuinely adored the dumb little trinkets that they brought home for him, so they couldn't
even bear to tell him it was a joke.

Now, it's become a tradition to get him the most underwhelming souvenir possible.

"Hey KIDS, it's your favourite uncle!" Seo Tomoya declared fervently as he charged into the
building, and somehow, the kids got louder.

Asano hummed. They've really learned how to test his patience over the years. How he missed the
days where he was still morally corrupt enough to brainwash people that don't listen to him. That
skill would be so convenient right now.

"Don't you dare," Gakushuu grinded his teeth with his threat, appearing behind the former Board
Chairman with his arms crossed.

Asano beamed. "Oh, there you are, my dear son. How was your trip to Paris? I saw a picture of you
on Nakamura-san's social media account. How I wish I got a smile like that from my son directly
instead."

"Don't act dumb, you were planning something nefarious," Gakushuu muttered. "And why the hell
do you know Nakamura Rio's instagram? Why are you stalking her?"

"I am not stalking her, she is an influencer. She made her account to be informative. She knows I
follow her."

"Jesus help us all..."

Gakushuu turned away for his own sanity, reaching for one of the younger kids that had come up
to him asking to be picked up.

"Are you really sure he's not been mentally manipulating any of you, Bluebell? Don't worry, just
tell me," Gakushuu coaxed the child, "I'll get him arrested right away."

"Stop that," Ren warned, "I know you're desperate for anything you can use, but not the child,
Shuu. Put her down."

"...well," Koyama Natsuhiko stared at the father-son duo. "I'm glad to see that no matter how much
the scenery changes, these two never grow up."

"Well, let's ignore them," Araki said, sitting down to distribute the food. "So, who wants to hear
stories about Paris?"

Hazama rarely lost herself in a book during work hours, but she couldn't quite help it. She hadn't
had the chance to read Kanzaki's novel in a while, and a copy of the long-awaited sequel just got
shipped to the library. Of course she was going to take it and find a corner. Why else was she a
librarian?

Seven years flitted by in a flash. Hazama's only doing online writing as a side, but the feeling of a
thick novel under her hands made her wonder if endeavouring for an official publication was worth
it.

"Kirara," her co-worker whispered, "the return pile is looking pretty full. You might want to get
that done before you continue."

Hazama sighed. Guess she'll have to.

Surprisingly, the first book she spotted in the pile brought a smile to her face.

Koro-Quest. The library had all of its volumes stocked, and it was quite a popular manga staple for
the kids that come by. Hazama felt the urge to pick that up and read it too, but alas, if she had no
self-control, she wouldn't be working here.

Work is mundane, but she enjoyed it.

It reminds her of how far she's come, and each day is fulfilling.

"Hello?"

The phone call at the end of the day is surprising.

"Kanzaki, it's been a while, yes, I've been well," Hazama said, "Mimura's new movie... ah, the one
that Kayano's also co-starring in? Sure, let's go watch it together."

She held Kanzaki's novel in her hand.

The first page of acknowledgements held a single, meaningful line of dedications:

[For the teachers who were the side characters in their stories, so I could become the hero of my
own.]

"So you, me, and Fuwa..." she hummed, "let's ask the group if anyone else is free, too. It'd be a
small reunion party."

"Tadaomi, the kids are inviting us to a movie," Irina entered the office, "Saturday, ten. Lunch after.
Are we going?"

Karasuma Tadaomi didn't look up from his work. "I have a meeting. You have a plane to Jakarta,"
he said, sharply. "They can bring Naomi along, if she wants to go."

"Free babysitting, good idea," Irina nodded. "I'll relay that, then."

Karasuma lifted his head as Irina left the room. Sometimes, he wondered why she even bothered
asking. If she really wanted to go, she would be hobbling in with a loud whine, crying about not
being able to go. If she asked so curtly, she already knew the answer was no and she had no
problems with it.

Is she upset about something?

Maybe it was the time of the year. Next week was the seventh anniversary of that day again, after
all...

"Irina," Karasuma called, before she got out of earshot. "You're leaving Saturday, so how about
both of us go out on Friday night?"

Irina's face instantly bloomed so bright, Karasuma wondered if he was hallucinating due to sleep
deprivation.

"I'll make the reservations, then!" Irina beamed. "And... I don't think Naomi would want to
interrupt us... should I leave her with Ms Sakurai?"

"Yeah, sure. Do whatever you must,," Karasuma dismissed.

"Don't leave me hanging, alright! I don't care if the President of Japan is here!"

"Don't be ridiculous. As much as I used to want to sometimes, it's much too upsetting a sight to see
someone alone on a table reserved for two," Karasuma sighed. "You know I'd never let the
situation come to that."

"Well... I guess you're right," Irina said, her smile weakening a tad.

"Also, I backhanded the Grim Reaper in the face to save some kids. I think that's significantly more
nerve-wracking than clocking an uninvited VIP over the head to make it to a date with you."

"Holy shit, that was the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."

A table reserved for two, with only one occupant.

That's a scene that frequents a certain restaurant in this town, every year on the exact same night. A
single man enters the restaurant, takes the best seat in the house, and stays, waiting for his
companion that never arrives.

He pays for the food and leaves a huge tip, though, so the owners don't chase him out. He's good-
looking, too, so no one minds him being there taking up the space.

"Asano's stopped doing that last year, by the way," Irina allowed her smile to brim over her
features once again. "Seems like Gakushuu-kun finally took pity on him and invited himself to
dinner with his dad."

Karasuma found that a rather uncomfortable scene to imagine.

But perhaps, if those two are willing to put aside their differences for one night each year— then
perhaps, they, too, are taking the steps they need to heal.

It's progress.

And the world moves on, even then.

"Hi, Miss...?"

"Ah, hi there!" Ms Sakurai turned around quickly, greeting her customer. "How may I help you,
sir?"

The man chuckled sheepishly. "Do you happen to have orchids?"

"Of course. Would you like an arrangement or a bouquet?"

"An arrangement, please."

Orchids tend to be put on graves. So Ms Sakurai doesn't ask further, simply getting to work. The
man peruses the store, admiring the flowers.

Ms Sakurai glanced up, every once in a while, intrigued.

His hair was an unusual silvery shade— platinum blonde, perhaps. And when he observed the
flowers, his touch was tender. His eyes landed on the vase of plastic blue roses on the counter. It's
decorated by little teddy bear trinkets, and it intrigues him enough to give him pause.

"Your arrangements are wonderful," he said. "I can feel the love you have for your art in every
single piece. It's breathtaking."

Ms Sakurai smiled. "I'm flattered you think so."

"Do you work here alone? Take care of so many flowers all the time, all by yourself?"

"Yes, I do," Ms Sakurai said. "It gets tough with age, but these flowers are doing their best, too. I
want to make sure they bloom as long as they can, as beautiful as they can be... and I'll continue to
do so forever, if no one else is willing to."
(Flowers are meant to be taken care of. To be a florist is to expect nothing in return but the fleeting
sight of their beauty. It is a thankless job.)

But Ms Sakurai loved this job, fruitless as it was.

The man's eyes were gentle as he looked at her, with eyes that almost seemed to understand exactly
what she meant.

"If I wouldn't be too bold to ask... could I help?" he asked. "I used to do a little floral work on the
side as well... though, I got in a bit of a pickle with the law, and now I have nothing left to my
name. Definitely no resume to speak of."

He looked away, clearly awkward and hesitant.

Ms Sakurai could have laughed, but instead, she smiled, touched and enthused.

"Maybe I'm jumping the gun a little," he backtracked immediately, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't impose
on your shop. This is important to you and I'm just a stranger—"

"I wouldn't mind another hand around," Ms Sakurai interrupted him. "From the sounds of it, you'll
have a tough time finding work elsewhere, won't you? Where would you go if I turned you away
now?"

The man's cheeks flushed, and Ms Sakurai smiled warmly, stepping around the counter to take his
chapped, scarred hands in her own.

(These are hands that are familiar to her.)

(They are hands that resemble the ones she misses oh so dearly.)

"Honestly, you've got some good timing!" she giggled. "I was troubled about where this shop
would go once I retire. Won't you do me a favour and take this shop off my hands? Let an old lady
prepare for her retirement."

The man balked. "I barely know you, Ms Sakurai! Don't just give me your shop!"

She turned her nose up in consideration. "You have a point, I don't trust your skills just yet. You'll
apprentice under me for at least a year before I decide if you're worthy."

"Ms Sakurai... has no one taught you stranger danger..."

"Details, details."

The man sighed in defeat. There was just no winning against this lady, was there? She'd decided to
adopt him then and there, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't aiming for something like this
when he first walked in through the doors.

He took her hand, and bowed.

"If you allow me to live with you, Ms Sakurai, I promise I will protect you, and everything you
treasure, until the day I die."

(Because he has nothing left, and now, he's going to try his best to find something to live for. That
is why he came here, to find someone with a similar hole in their heart for love, so he may dig
 himself a place to hide.)

"My. I seem to have earned myself a little prince," Ms Sakurai chuckled. "So? How about an
introduction? Step one of a great first impression is a spirited greeting."

"Good day to you, Ms Sakurai," he quickly fixed himself. "My name is Ran. Just Ran."

"Just 'Ran', huh... that's a little short," she hummed. "How about 'Sakurai'? Do you wanna be
Sakurai Ran from today onwards?"

Ran immediately deflates, though the smile on his face is still genuine. "...Ms Sakurai, has anyone
ever informed you that you're much too friendly for your own good? I worry you might be taken
by the fairies one day."

Ms Sakurai was pleasantly surprised to hear his exasperated jibing. He's a gentle person, far deeper
than she can read on the surface. She tried her best to read fuller into him, but perhaps, as is the job
of a florist, she was fine just adoring the outside.

She didn't have to know the ugly inside components if he didn't want to show it to her. He could
have his secrets, and she could have a son again.

Instead, she simply giggled to herself, perusing the flowers around the shop until she found the
perfect one for the occasion.

"To commemorate," she said.

And she held out a single yellow orchid between them.

(To the promise of new beginnings.)

It's fine if just a niche of people know me.

I don't need to be remembered, I don't need to be honoured. But if my words mattered,

maybe someone would think of me in passing. It's fine if I'm forgotten-- but just for a little
while, I want to be something that isn't just an outsider in the end.

- Kunomasu Naomasa.

Chapter End Notes

 (This note was too long, so check the comments for deleted details.)

I had the final scene with Nao and Asano written out quite a bit before I got there,
maybe around the time of the final exam arc. It was just a loose scene I wrote because
I felt emotional inspiration at the time, and I'd left it in my drafts ever since. I'm glad I
managed to get to it in the story after all.

Another scene I wrote out long before it occurred was the meeting scene with Rei. It's
already present in the first chapter of an ALiVE rewrite I've been touching on for a
while now, and it's a big part of why I haven't gotten around to publishing that yet.

Nao was not aware of the exact moment he would die, hence, he had a few things left
that he wanted to do, including actually saying goodbye to the kids. But it felt
appropriate for him to go like a normal unsuspecting man, and a big part about all this
was that people never accurately predict death to begin with, that's how life works.
Nao had a vague deadline, and so did Korosensei, but in the end, the circumstances of
their deaths still came as a surprise. If Korosensei had the most timely death possible,
Nao had the most untimely, but both of them were fulfilling for themselves because
they both did as much as they could before then.

I mean, it's not as if Nao didn't say goodbye to the kids at all. I tried to fit in one last
scene for everyone in class to interact with Nao in the last few chapters starting from
Kayano, and I think I only didn't have the opportunity for one or two of them.

OUTSiDER was the second of the reincarnation series, chronologically. I penned it

down as a joke while ALiVE was reaching its climax chapters, and it means a lot to
me as a milestone to see how far it's come.

This is, by quite far, my most popular fic on both platforms, and I still don't understand
why sometimes. It's been an honour bringing so many of you along this journey, and I
hope to see you again on my other fics as well.

Thanks for reading Nao's story.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!