He thought of confessing sometimes. But then the other was kicked off the team and into E Class and he couldnât. He had a reputation to keep, yâknow?
But then Sugino won, happily, with his friends. With guts and determination. Even if they lost, theyâd tried, and they would have been happy and smiling with each other.
He missed that. Missed enjoying the sport, not just winning.
So he confessed. A trek up the mountain, a note in his locker.
I like you more than I like baseball.
He printed it so the handwriting couldnât be traced back to him. So Sugino wouldnât know it was the guy heâd known for years, the guy heâd played with for years.
Because Sugino had a girl he liked, and he had a reputation to keep, yâknow?
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Gun shots rang in her ears long after they stopped shooting.
Blood ran cold on the ground, drying and going sticky, clinging to the man who had murdered her family, who tried to kill her.
The man she got the better of, despite being only a child.
She stayed in that apartment for what felt like years, watching the blood congeal and feeling the heat leave the room. Leaving, she wandered. Not lost, but with no where to go.
Aimless.
Until she was picked up by Lovroâs wife.
It wasnât home, but it was warm and it had food and floors of pristine white.
And she didnât hear a single gunshot.
â
She got older and more beautiful. Lovro told her she needed to start making use of herself. Irina knew she could join his wife, do safer work, clean up after the crew when they returned, help train new recruits and orphans like her.
But there were people with her familyâs blood on their hands, enjoying life without a care in the world, destroying families, cities, countries.
She wouldnât rest until they suffered.
So Lovro taught her. They studied academics, making her multilingual and capable of discussing almost every topic under the sun. His wife taught her how to pretend to be dumb, or to care about the subjects sheâd studied so hard to master.
(âSometimes a man wants nothing more than your interest - you need to pretend you care, even if youâd rather watch paint dry. Sometimes he wants to impress you by showing you how smart he is - dumb yourself down and latch onto his every word like youâre learning for the first time.â
âThatâs stupid. If Iâm smarter than him Iâll tell him so.â
âYouâll learn dear. In this line of work, flattery is everything.â)
Irina worked on shooting and stabbing and hand to hand combat with her âbrothersâ. She only called them that because it infuriated them (âGirls are gross! Stay away!â âNo girls allowed!â) and they often missed out on treats if theyâd bullied her (she took their share for herself). They left the base before she did, and she lost all contact with them, but learning with them had been awfully fun. Sheâd often been too intimidated to hit Lovro - he wasnât mean or abusive, but he was a scary guy and she owed him her life, her education and her livelihood. But with her brothers, she could smack them in the face with a smile.
She had more classes with Lovro than they did. âWhy?â
âBecause they tend to make plans that just kill or destroy or cause a big scene. You have a more level head, the ability to infiltrate and gather information. Your skill set can be much wider.â
And so he taught her to dance.
She was awkward at first, trying not to be stiff, trying to float in her pretty new dress and not trip in her heels, trying not to flinch when he reached for her. Itâs Lovro. Itâs okay.
But he didnât judge, didnât mention anything if he noticed, which he definitely did because itâs Lovro. He led her around the room, over and over and over again, even on days when her hands were bloody from fighting or her eyes red from nights missing her family.
They went through a list of ball room dances until she mastered each of them. Just the two of them in a small room, music on repeat, shoes scuffling as they twirled. She was allowed to go on her first mission then.
âFlattery is everything.â
Irina understood those words now, as she watched the man responsible for so much blood shed and war and destruction gasp his last breaths. Everything sheâd learnt were things her brothers had no hope of doing. Things she could do only because she was smart and pretty and had curves in the right places.
Because she could dumb herself down and make people think they were the only one who mattered to her, give them a promise of virtue that she had no intention of sharing, make them feel like they were blessed by her choosing them.
The body went cold and she left, not looking back. Sheâd learnt how to cover her traces and how to sneak around without being caught, or to flatter or fight herself out of situations where she was. She felt hollow, her first real kill. You could argue it was her second, but the first time was just instinct, the desire to save herself, not necessarily the will to kill. Sheâd trained for this, gone in with murder on her mind.
She left the base that night. She still worked under Lovro, but solo, at her own pace, building her skills and adding to her portfolio. International plans, business secrets, celebrity truths, unexplained deaths. There was nothing she couldnât do, no information she couldnât get.
Irina had a life without compare, living wild and dangerously, with enough money to live in the lap of luxury. Her jobs paid well, and she took a few tips from the wallets of those she disposed of. Not like they needed it, right? Chances are theyâd only gotten it through illegal means, so what goes around, comes around.
The blonde shuddered every time she thought about her own dues.
Life wasnât easy, but she chose that path, right? In the beginning she might not have known what she was getting herself into, but she could quit at any time now. She didnât think she could. People like her, with blood on their hands, couldnât go back, couldnât, shouldnât take it easy.
But sometimes she longed for the easier days where it was just her and Lovro in a room while he taught her skills that would help her kill people. Where there was just music and no gunshots or bombs or whispered secrets. Where it felt like she still had a father.
They made a mecha together. A small one, but a mecha nonetheless. He had the gadget knowledge and skills to put it together, and she had the idea. âAfter all, manga always shows mechas saving the world! It doesnât hurt to try right?â
Everyone disagreed.
âThis isnât an animeâŠâ
âMight as well call on Superman with that type of thinking.â
âYeah, but those mecha have super powers and stuff right? Or smart pilots? We donât have thoseâŠâ
âKarmaâs smart!â
âNo thanks, Iâm not getting in a robot. Youâve got Terasaka for suicide missions like that.â
âYou went to space though.â
âNot willingly.â
âBut-â
âAsk Terasaka.â
âTera-â
âNO!â
âGet in the robot, Terasaka!â
âI feel like you stole that lineâŠâ
Eventually the idea was shut down, but Itona clung to it. After all, they had an unlimited budget thanks to the government, so why not? When was he going to get those type of funds and this type of free time again?
So he and Fuwa teamed up.
It was a flop, but it was small and looked cool. He added a mini flame thrower and it could shoot anti-Sensei bullets. Karasuma refused to approve their plans for an upgraded version when it malfunctioned and shot him in the face. Itona remarked that he had a wife to cover up the ugly welt with makeup while Karasuma grumbled they werenât married. (An obnoxiously loud âYet!â could be heard from the staff room.)
Itona let Fuwa keep the robot. He could make another. He would. A better one, one day. But for now, she could have this crappy one, because it made her smile and he kinda liked it when she did that, but he wasnât quite sure why. He hoped she liked the next one just as much.
She didnât say anything, not in junior high when they were closest, or not throughout the years and many late night talks since. But that was just the way she was. Hara was everyoneâs mother - it was her duty to put their interests before her own. It wasnât always pleasant, but rejection never was either.
She on the other hand, was perfect. Incredibly imperfect, but she owned it, making her appear to be flawless. She was beautiful, graceful, talented like nobody else. She didnât let confidence and compliments go to her head, but she didnât put herself down - she knew exactly what her talents were and sheâd be damned if they were left to waste.
But she was in love with someone else. She always had been. He noticed her, but Hara didnât believe theyâd end up together. Surely something would have happened by now? With their history? After all, she didnât exactly hide her affections, and theyâd been obvious from junior hgh.
But Haraâs questions were shrugged off or avoided. She wouldnât give up on him, on the possibility of them.
So Hara stepped back. She kept her distance, as she always had. She was there when needed, and when she wasnât, but she didnât step into the spotlight. She wasnât a main character, so sheâd stay in her lane.
At the very least, she was thankful for all the photos Koro Sensei had taken, and all the get togethers the class representatives organised. She was thankful that her crush was a movie star, so that even if Hara wasnât the one making her happy, her films could help her imagine a happy life for them together.
Gakushuu had worked at bringing Takebayashi over to A Class for weeks. It would be a insult to 3-E on a personal and academic level, and show his father what he was capable of. Small prods, mentions of how proud the boyâs family would be, how much better it would look to his future school if he was in A Class, getting A Class to cut down the bullying for a week or two. Small steps to get him interested.
And then he transferred and Gakushuu couldnât have been more smug.
He took the lead and steered A Class into being nice to him, in bringing Takebayashi into us and making him see E Class as one of them.
Or so he thought.
His fatherâs trophy smashed and all of Gakushuuâs hard work down the drain. It was clearly his loss.
Interestingly enough, he wasnât entirely sure why. Sure, his effort had been wasted and his father was pissed, but that was the norm with E Class, infuriating little pests that they were.
Maybe it was when he saw Takebayashi being welcomed back with open arms, or smiles at him as a person, and not some ideal version of him? Maybe it was that Takebayashi was free to do as he pleased, or could still get by without his familyâs name? That he was confident in himself and didnât need to drag people down to prove it?
Gakushuu wasnât sure, but he felt more bitter than usual and couldnât wait to bring E Class down once and for all.
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Autumn at Kunugigaoka was nice. The mountain was made of reds, caramels and browns, the crunch of already fallen leaves could be heard underfoot, the sky was an incredible blue and the air was crisp. Much nicer than the city.
He wasnât entirely sure why heâd agreed to come, but he didnât have work and he could always attempt to kill the octopus again. Instead heâd ended up shooting pheasants and other animals so the class could cook up some homegrown food for their school festival. (Gastro could say he was the best shot around until he was blue in the face but Red Eye would never believe him.)
He wasnât expecting to be meeting other assassins there. One or two maybe (heâd heard Irina was lurking about, and that generally meant Lovro would hover to keep an eye on his supposed not-favourite) but not a whole table. It was strange, seeing so much of his competition in the one place. Much more so seeing his target failing miserably to disguise himself (though in all fairness, most people werenât looking for a giant yellow octopus and probably assumed it was some weird 3-E art piece or something).
Just enjoy the moment and ignore the weirdness.
While not exactly a life motto, it was good advice to live by, especially in his field.
It was a weird day, and even weirder when they all went drinking afterwards. He wasnât quite sure why he woke up with Smogâs number on his bedside table, his jacket missing or his fridge raided, but he figured it mustnât have been a bad night.
The media represented love as a lot of things, and Isogai wasnât sure he agreed with all of them. He thought about others a lot, but some of the blind devotion he saw made him rather concerned. He would have given anything for Koro Sensei, but that wasnât romantic love and it wasnât the only way to show love. More than that, doing something like giving his life wouldnât have been the right thing or helped anyone, so it unnerved him to see that portrayed in movies.
He preferred the simpler type of love. Grand gestures were nice, but just being there, having simple talks, the small things - that was what he wanted.
Elaborate plans could easily go hay wire if even a single thing was out of place. But a movie and a walk? If the movie is cancelled or full, itâs easily replaced with something else, or you can see a different movie or session. If itâs raining, you get an umbrella and walk together, getting as close as possible.
At least, that was the ideal.
But Ritsu wasnât human, and walking around with a virtual girl in your phone, commenting that the rain should be over within the next hour just wasnât the same thing.
((I used the rare pair maker for everything. Iâm late af but idc, and some of these arenât really shippy, fight me))
Ships (in order): Okajima/Rio, Takebayashi/Kayano, Gastro/Smog, Gakushuu/Takebayashi, Yada/Megu, Gakuhou/Houjou, Gakuhou/Aguri (note at bottom of drabble)
Day One - Clothes Swap
âThose clothes suit you!â
Okajima was livid. Mostly. He was kinda offended that the girlâs were giggling at him. He was kinda offended that they werenât being entirely sarcastic (but that was mixed with pride because damn did his legs look good in a miniskirt!).
But not just any miniskirt. Oh no, this was Nakamuraâs miniskirt!
Sure, it would have been nice to get Kayanoâs or another girls (one he was into more, yâknow?), but Nakamuraâs outfit wasnât bad either. Plus, he could smell her perfume on it.
âYo! How do I look?â
And Okajima had to admit, the sight of her grinning like an idiot in his uniform made his brain stop and his face feel hot.
Day Two - Sharing Food
She was pissed, but work was work. Of course sheâd returned to acting. It was in her blood. Being ordinary didnât suit her, especially after the events of 3-E.
She was famous, but her hiatus had made her name fade. Not to mention, injecting herself with tentacles and, yâknow, getting stabbed and almost dying? Didnât really help much. (She was stronger than most other actresses, to the point where some were a little afraid of her, and she barely even had a scar thanks to Sensei, but the wound still ached occasionally and the two dots on the back of her neck were thought to be some rebellious tattoos or something, very much taboo, but she couldnât exactly be honest, now could she?)
Kayano wasnât at the bottom of the heap, but she might as well be. She was given a small role in a drama. She played a maid. Not a cool beauty maid for a mega-millionaire. No, a maid at an overly cute facility, smiling happily for her master.
Honestly, it wasnât tough. The whole job was three episodes long, the dialogue was easy, she was naturally cute. Simple. But her co-starâŠ
âShall we play the pocky game now?â
Takebayashi was grinning ear to ear. Sheâd never wanted to punch someone so much.
Day Three - Winter
It was cold and snowing and Gastro hated it. It reminded him of battlefields that were hot and dusty and then a few weeks later bitterly cold with wind that felt cold enough to slice through a man.
If he had ramen heâd probably feel better. But Smog only had soup. Pumpkin soup.
âYou realise this tastes shit with guns, right?â
âYou realise I didnât have to make anything for you?â
Gastro stared at the orange liquid, steam hitting his face. Smog was right. Gastro had gotten sick and Smog had been in the area. They got along relatively well (sure, they got along well with Grip too, but his poetic bullshit mixed with ninja speak was hard to understand - the man was much more physical than he was social), but heâd never thought theyâd get along well enough for this type of stuff.
Smog didnât have to make him anything. Smog didnât have to look after him.
But he did.
He ate some of the soup (with his gun of course - pumpkin soup may taste shit coming out of a barrel, but spoons were made soup - and everything else - taste fucking foul). He didnât think it was just the soup that was making him feel warm.
Day Four - Rare pair Maker
Time had passed. Theyâd entered high school, then university, then the âreal worldâ. Heâd left for America. Akabane still called him occasionally. Mostly at ridiculous hours when he knew that Gakushuu would be asleep.
He rarely answered, unless he was in the mood for some bickering. Christmas was a good time for that. Valentineâs too. He didnât mind being alone - it was something he could change at any time, after all - but it was the cheesiness, the consumerism, the most obscene scenes of PDA that irritated him. Honestly, these holidays were the seasons for idiots, but try explaining that to any of the fools he worked with! He might as well talk to a wall or watch paint dry!
So when Akabane called, he was ready for a fight. He ended up hanging up, slightly miffed, not expecting that the idiot prankster would actually need to talk about business.
The Japanese government wanted to do some collaboration or something (Akabane kept it vague, trying to strong arm him into meeting just so he could get the details). They were sending a team out so they could discuss things and maybe get a project started.
Gakushuu hadnât been expecting Takebayashi to show up.
The last time theyâd spoken was when Takebayashi had rebelled and gone back to E Class like an idiot. Now he was a scientist, so important he was sent to foreign countries. Gakushuu smirked a little. He wondered if Akabane had purposely not told him about this or if the redhead genuinely hadnât known. Regardless, he was certainly interested in listening now.
After the meeting, the Japanese group was getting ready to leave. Theyâd give Gakushuuâs company a few days to think. If they agreed to the project itâd start as soon as plans were finalised. If not, theyâd head back to Japan and find someone else more willing to take up the mantle.
Gakushuu was interested but wasnât sure whether the project would be worth his time or effort.
Then Takebayashi tripped.
And off came the glasses.
Gakushuu felt his heart stop. He idly wondered if Takebayashi liked roses. He realised Valentineâs Day was after the Japanese team would go home. He panicked slightly.
It wasnât hard to convince his team to agree to the collaboration. All he had to do now was to convince Takebayashi to go on a date with him.
(((Wanted to do this for future but another pair stole that lmao. Gakushuuâs got heart eyes for dem shoujo eyes lmao)))
Day Five - First Meeting
People often complimented her on her maturity. She was everyoneâs big sister. She thought ahead and still had fun, tried to get involved with as much as possible. Perhaps it was a little stuck up, but Yada thought she was pretty cool as well.
And then she met her.
Sure, Yada thought about the future and the tools she needed for it. She had a great figure. Great social skills, great friends, a good outlook on life and the ability to see both sides of the story.
But she felt like she was a very far second place compared to Megu.
Megu was the tall, cool beauty. Ikemegu, loved by both girls and guys. And if you were one of the few who didnât want to date her, chances are you wanted to be her. She was calm and collected, had clear plans and goals in mind. Everyone trusted her and she was responsible, well mannered and smart.
Yada didnât say anything, but she did her best to stay by Meguâs side. The girl was too kind for her own good. Her only flaw was helping others too much. So Yada would make sure she was there, make sure that their class rep got some rest, some time to herself.
Their first meeting had left an impression on her. She wanted to become cool and strong like Megu too. Just like she took an interest in Bitch Senseiâs lessons, sheâd take an interest in Megu. It never hurt to have someone to look up to, to emulate, right?
And if that meant knowing Meguâs favourite perfume, her favourite flower, and everything else she liked and disliked, more than anyone else (even Isogai), so what? And if meant using all her savings to by Megu the best birthday present ever, so what?
Their first meeting had left an impression on her. Yada had no idea what path it had led her on, but she wanted to see it through. After all, Meguâs smile always made it worthwhile. Â
Day Six - Battle
Gakuhou was a calm man. Patient. Furious and destructive and manipulative when need be, but reasonable for the most part. (Well, thats what Gakushuu tried to say, what Gakuhou tried to project, but people didnât always believe them.)
But Gakuhou had his pride. What belonged to him was his. It was basic manners, taught in preschool. Donât touch what isnât yours.
His school was his pride. Heâd built the junior high and the high school. Both marvellous buildings, beautiful and well designed, filled with the best technology and the brightest minds. Theyâd been born from a tiny classroom on top of the hill. A pathetic little building where he built his skills and put his knowledge to good use.
From little things big things grow.
And Gakuhouâs rage grew immensely too.
It was one thing for him to choose to destroy his own building. It was his. He could do whatever he saw fit with it (whether it was morally correct to destroy it with children inside was another matter, one he would throw money at later if need be).
But Houjou had touched what wasnât his. Attempted to destroy what wasnât his.
The building had suffered minor damage. The children too.
Theyâd survive.
But that was irrelevant.
Gakuhou was pissed. And heâd make that known.
Houjou had a debt to pay and Gakuhou was going to collect every last cent, be it in money or other payment.
(Gakushuu had the sense to stay out of it all. His fatherâs battles were not his own. And that gleam in the former principalâs eyes unnerved him. He felt sorry for the dumbass who had pissed his father off. He sighed when Gakuhou left. The battle had begun.)
Day Seven - Future
He often wondered about how things could of gone. If Rikuto hadnât died, if he hadnât gone down a path of domination and destruction. He wondered about how he could have changed the education system once his outlook had been changed.
He wondered how different E Class would have been if Aguri had lived.
Gakuhou wondered if she would have been the one to change him.
He wondered about a lot of things. He had no answers for them.
(((After looking through the archives I saw Gakuhou/Irina isnât allowed due to the age difference so Iâd assume this would be the same but I donât think itâs shippy? (Either the drabble or their canon relationship - I certainly donât ship it lmao. Take is as you want. Personally I donât even ship Koro/Aguri and think it was purely there because media is ââââmeantâââââ to have romance in it.)))
