incorrect assclass

Kayano is considerate enough to throw a chair at Koro-sensei instead of a table.

Based on an incorrect quote by @incorrect-assclass:

Karasuma’s staring through him as he lies on the floor… knuckles bloodied, eye still freshly bruised. It’s indecipherable… the expression he’s looking at Kiyoshi with now… but he knows one thing for certain:

It’s not pride.

He starts to take a step forward, but Kiyoshi stops him: speaking up in a trembling voice.

“Don’t. ‘ts dangerous in here. You don’t wanna step on the glass.“

Karasuma’s eyes drift towards the ground… and widen slightly as he notes the shattered mirror. He takes a step backward, reaching his hand out to block where the dog had been following him.

“Taro. Stay,” he commands, shutting the door behind him. There’s a persistent scratch on the door outside, but Karasuma doesn’t seem to note it. His gaze is fixed solely on Kiyoshi.

It’s not that long ago that Kiyoshi had noted he’d never seen his dad afraid. But the expression his dad is looking at him with right now… it seems pretty close.

“Kiyoshi,” he repeats in an empty voice. “What… what happened?”

His mouth hangs open for a moment after he speaks. He doesn’t dare take another step closer, but his hand’s stiff as a board.

Kiyoshi feels a twang of shame at his father even seeing him in this state. He scoots backwards… careful to avoid sliding against the glass, and shakes his head.

“I… I can’t- it- it doesn’t matter-” He sputters. There’s too much to explain. Too much that makes him want to bow his head and shriek. Too much he knows his dad would be ASHAMED of him for. He can’t breathe a word of it.

“What happened to me… it- it doesn’t matter. I just want to know about mom-”

The worst part is Fumiko can’t even cry.

She wants to… and she does, just a little. But she knows she has to stop before she gets home. And so she cries her heart out confronting Kiyoshi, and then Makoto… she weeps and sniffles and screams running down the mountainside, and then, with eyes wet, she breaks through the underbrush and back into the real world.

…The real world… where she’s expected to be home in thirty-something minutes now.

The thought scares her… going home now of all times. Her head is spinning and she just can’t stop shaking, but she knows she doesn’t have much of a choice. If she bails on her parents now, who knows what kind of trouble she could get in?

( ‘Your whole life… everything you’ve worked for… it could all fall apart,’ she thinks, before remembering the way Kiyoshi had looked at her, and wondering if it already has.)

She knows they’re going to make it worse. She knows they’re going to make her more upset. But there’s nothing she can do! If she runs off to Nagisa’s place now, she’s never going to be able to do it again. She… she needs to be strong. She needs to protect herself.

…She needs to stop crying.

The worst part is Fumiko can’t even cry.

She wants to… and she does, just a little. But she knows she has to stop before she gets home. And so she cries her heart out confronting Kiyoshi, and then Makoto… she weeps and sniffles and screams running down the mountainside, and then, with eyes wet, she breaks through the underbrush and back into the real world.

…The real world… where she’s expected to be home in thirty-something minutes now.

The thought scares her… going home now of all times. Her head is spinning and she just can’t stop shaking, but she knows she doesn’t have much of a choice. If she bails on her parents now, who knows what kind of trouble she could get in?

( ‘Your whole life… everything you’ve worked for… it could all fall apart,’ she thinks, before remembering the way Kiyoshi had looked at her, and wondering if it already has.)

She knows they’re going to make it worse. She knows they’re going to make her more upset. But there’s nothing she can do! If she runs off to Nagisa’s place now, she’s never going to be able to do it again. She… she needs to be strong. She needs to protect herself.

…She needs to stop crying.

“Awesome,” Fumiko says. “…So what is it you wanted to talk about?”

Kiyoshi pauses, staring at the ground for a long moment as he briefly considers plopping down on it. He ends up deciding against it, however, when he remembers just how pitiful that would make him look. He doesn’t want to guilt Fumiko. He’s been cruel enough to her as is. He just… he just…

…Wishes this could be easier.

But it’s not. And it never will be. There’s no backing out. If he ever wants to save the things he cares about, then now’s the time to speak. He just… hopes at the very least this won’t be too hard on her, even if it is for him.

Bracing himself for the worst, he stands tall… takes a deep breath… makes himself look as big as he can, and prepares to unmask himself for the second time this month.

“…It started a little after the class election.”

“There was an incident with your mother,” Dad says, and Kiyoshi feels something inside of him crash and burn.

His dad looks so tall, standing there- shoulders stiff. There’s this blank look in his eyes. He can’t tell if he’s staring at him with disappointment or pity.

“…An… incident,” Kiyoshi repeats, making his way over to the couch. His legs feel stiff.

“Yes,” Dad says. He doesn’t follow Kiyoshi. “An… incident.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “She’s not dead,” he admits. “…We know that, at least.”

He says it awkwardly… as if offering up some sort of reassurance. And briefly, a weight lifts from Kiyoshi’s chest. But quickly it peters off, and he hears the flinch in his father’s voice. She’s not dead… yet? She’s not dead, but there are things worse?

(His mind flashes back to those years in the hospital and his heart catches in his throat. No. Nononononono. If it’s anything like that he thinks he’ll… he’ll…-)

“W… what is it, then?” he asks, panic in his voice. “What happened to her!? Is she going to be okay!?”

Megu whips out her phone. “I can jot down notes on any ideas we have,” she says. “So you two don’t need to worry about that. What are we thinking about for this year?”

Nagisa mulls it over. Huh… he’s dedicated a lot of thought to that, hasn’t he? But they’re running out of new things they can try. They’ve already done laser tag, and the pool party is gonna have to be a no go after the time Yoshida almost split his head open on a rock. Potluck, maybe! Or they could always retry the ‘commemorative baseball game’ idea…

“Well, this may sound a little boring…” Isogai says with a laugh. “But… I was thinking something pretty simple for this year. I know we’ve had some big events in the past… but sometimes it’s good to just spend time together, you know?”

Megu gives a firm nod. “I was thinking the same, actually. Just last year we had the fifteenth anniversary. And as fun as it was going all out… I’m not sure I can deal with Karma attempting to break Terasaka’s nose over a game of Just Dance ever again.”

“Hey-” Nagisa interjects. “He wasn’t trying to break it, for the record. Just… give him a bloody nose.”

“I’m not sure I can deal with your delinquent husband engaging in acts of senseless violence ever again. Is that better?”

“…Much,” Nagisa admits with a laugh. “Though I’m not sure anything, even the guise of a casual get together will be able to keep him from throwing a punch if the going really gets tough.”

“If ‘losing a game of Just Dance 2 to Boney M.’s Rasputin’ is that man’s idea of a tough time, then I do have to pass on my sincerest apologies to you and your family.”

“Thanks,” Nagisa says. “We appreciate your condolences.”

Megu whips out her phone. “I can jot down notes on any ideas we have,” she says. “So you two don’t need to worry about that. What are we thinking about for this year?”

Nagisa mulls it over. Huh… he’s dedicated a lot of thought to that, hasn’t he? But they’re running out of new things they can try. They’ve already done laser tag, and the pool party is gonna have to be a no go after the time Yoshida almost split his head open on a rock. Potluck, maybe! Or they could always retry the ‘commemorative baseball game’ idea…

“Well, this may sound a little boring…” Isogai says with a laugh. “But… I was thinking something pretty simple for this year. I know we’ve had some big events in the past… but sometimes it’s good to just spend time together, you know?”

Megu gives a firm nod. “I was thinking the same, actually. Just last year we had the fifteenth anniversary. And as fun as it was going all out… I’m not sure I can deal with Karma attempting to break Terasaka’s nose over a game of Just Dance ever again.”

“Hey-” Nagisa interjects. “He wasn’t trying to break it, for the record. Just… give him a bloody nose.”

“I’m not sure I can deal with your delinquent husband engaging in acts of senseless violence ever again. Is that better?”

“…Much,” Nagisa admits with a laugh. “Though I’m not sure anything, even the guise of a casual get together will be able to keep him from throwing a punch if the going really gets tough.”

“If ‘losing a game of Just Dance 2 to Boney M.’s Rasputin’ is that man’s idea of a tough time, then I do have to pass on my sincerest apologies to you and your family.”

“Thanks,” Nagisa says. “We appreciate your condolences.”

“It’s time you tell me the truth,” is the one phrase Kiyoshi least wants to hear.

He freezes in his tracks, Makoto’s grip still tight on his palm. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, and his breath hitches in his throat.

‘The truth.’

…Does he know?

For one horrifying moment, Kiyoshi lives in that world. Heart pounding- ears ringing- he lives in a world where Makoto’s seen through his disguise. But as his eyes drift to meet Makoto’s, and he’s met with some form of annoyed pity, not the righteous anger he expects, his heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

A… ah. So he hadn’t meant that kind of truth. Of course. He’s just… talking about something else. Like a normal person.

(Kiyoshi hasn’t been able to get his mind onto anything else in weeks.)

“…The truth?” he repeats, his voice hushed. “I’m… er - not exactly sure what you’re talking about.”

The words slip out of his mouth as if they’re rehearsed. He tries gently to tug his hand away from Makoto, but Makoto’s eyes narrow, and his grip only tightens.

“Y-you don’t know!?” he asks, sheer disbelief in his voice. “Oh, come on, man! Cut the crap!”

“It’s time you tell me the truth,” is the one phrase Kiyoshi least wants to hear.

He freezes in his tracks, Makoto’s grip still tight on his palm. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, and his breath hitches in his throat.

‘The truth.’

…Does he know?

For one horrifying moment, Kiyoshi lives in that world. Heart pounding- ears ringing- he lives in a world where Makoto’s seen through his disguise. But as his eyes drift to meet Makoto’s, and he’s met with some form of annoyed pity, not the righteous anger he expects, his heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

A… ah. So he hadn’t meant that kind of truth. Of course. He’s just… talking about something else. Like a normal person.

(Kiyoshi hasn’t been able to get his mind onto anything else in weeks.)

“…The truth?” he repeats, his voice hushed. “I’m… er - not exactly sure what you’re talking about.”

The words slip out of his mouth as if they’re rehearsed. He tries gently to tug his hand away from Makoto, but Makoto’s eyes narrow, and his grip only tightens.

“Y-you don’t know!?” he asks, sheer disbelief in his voice. “Oh, come on, man! Cut the crap!”

To be honest, Gakushuu’s a little hesitant to even confront him. When Nagisa’d said he’d been worried, he’d thought it was mostly just a ‘the kid was spooked’ thing. (And damn, he’d felt that. Nagisa had scared him, too.) But this is something more. He looks utterly destroyed.

All the same, he gently snaps his fingers in an attempt to draw attention to himself. When that doesn’t work, he clears his throat, speaking up in a careful voice.

“…Hey.“

Even that takes a second for Kiyoshi to process. When his eyes finally drift up towards Gakushuu, they go wide and startled as he stumbles back. Quickly, he straightens himself up and brushes awkwardly at his pant leg.

“A-ah! Asano-san!” he says. “I didn’t expect you to… I didn’t realize you’d-” he fumbles over his words, nervously gnawing at his lip. “I thought you were just upstairs. What happened?”

He’s got this big, fake, manufactured smile on. Gakushuu’s met his mother before, and to be honest, he’s starting to see the resemblance. She’d do the same thing, straddling herself over the table and ruining whatever family gathering she’d been invited to.

He sees no point in beating around the bush. Nagisa can use his kind, vague words all he wants. They most certainly have their place. But he knows full well a ‘I’m just checking up on you’ isn’t going to do him any good today.