He thought of confessing sometimes. But then the other was kicked off the team and into E Class and he couldn’t. He had a reputation to keep, y’know?
But then Sugino won, happily, with his friends. With guts and determination. Even if they lost, they’d 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 couldn’t be traced back to him. So Sugino wouldn’t know it was the guy he’d known for years, the guy he’d played with for years.
Because Sugino had a girl he liked, and he had a reputation to keep, y’know?
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 Lovro’s wife.
It wasn’t home, but it was warm and it had food and floors of pristine white.
And she didn’t hear a single gunshot.
—
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 family’s blood on their hands, enjoying life without a care in the world, destroying families, cities, countries.
She wouldn’t 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 she’d studied so hard to master.
(“Sometimes a man wants nothing more than your interest - you need to pretend you care, even if you’d 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 you’re learning for the first time.”
“That’s stupid. If I’m smarter than him I’ll tell him so.”
“You’ll learn dear. In this line of work, flattery is everything.”)
Irina worked on shooting and stabbing and hand to hand combat with her ‘brothers’. She only called them that because it infuriated them (“Girls are gross! Stay away!” “No girls allowed!”) and they often missed out on treats if they’d 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. She’d often been too intimidated to hit Lovro - he wasn’t 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. “Why?”
“Because 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.”
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. It’s Lovro. It’s okay.
But he didn’t judge, didn’t mention anything if he noticed, which he definitely did because it’s 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.
“Flattery is everything.”
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 she’d 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. She’d 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. She’d 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 couldn’t do, no information she couldn’t 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 they’d only gotten it through illegal means, so what goes around, comes around.
The blonde shuddered every time she thought about her own dues.
Life wasn’t 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 didn’t think she could. People like her, with blood on their hands, couldn’t go back, couldn’t, shouldn’t 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. “After all, manga always shows mechas saving the world! It doesn’t hurt to try right?”
Everyone disagreed.
“This isn’t an anime…”
“Might as well call on Superman with that type of thinking.”
“Yeah, but those mecha have super powers and stuff right? Or smart pilots? We don’t have those…”
“Karma’s smart!”
“No thanks, I’m not getting in a robot. You’ve got Terasaka for suicide missions like that.”
“You went to space though.”
“Not willingly.”
“But-“
“Ask Terasaka.”
“Tera-“
“NO!”
“Get in the robot, Terasaka!”
“I feel like you stole that line…”
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 weren’t married. (An obnoxiously loud “Yet!” 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 wasn’t quite sure why. He hoped she liked the next one just as much.
She didn’t 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 everyone’s mother - it was her duty to put their interests before her own. It wasn’t 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 didn’t let confidence and compliments go to her head, but she didn’t put herself down - she knew exactly what her talents were and she’d 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 didn’t believe they’d end up together. Surely something would have happened by now? With their history? After all, she didn’t exactly hide her affections, and they’d been obvious from junior hgh.
But Hara’s questions were shrugged off or avoided. She wouldn’t 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 wasn’t, but she didn’t step into the spotlight. She wasn’t a main character, so she’d 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 wasn’t 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 boy’s 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 couldn’t 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 father’s trophy smashed and all of Gakushuu’s hard work down the drain. It was clearly his loss.
Interestingly enough, he wasn’t 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 family’s name? That he was confident in himself and didn’t need to drag people down to prove it?
Gakushuu wasn’t sure, but he felt more bitter than usual and couldn’t wait to bring E Class down once and for all.
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 wasn’t entirely sure why he’d agreed to come, but he didn’t have work and he could always attempt to kill the octopus again. Instead he’d 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 wasn’t expecting to be meeting other assassins there. One or two maybe (he’d 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 weren’t 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 wasn’t quite sure why he woke up with Smog’s number on his bedside table, his jacket missing or his fridge raided, but he figured it mustn’t have been a bad night.
The media represented love as a lot of things, and Isogai wasn’t 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 wasn’t romantic love and it wasn’t the only way to show love. More than that, doing something like giving his life wouldn’t 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, it’s easily replaced with something else, or you can see a different movie or session. If it’s raining, you get an umbrella and walk together, getting as close as possible.
At least, that was the ideal.
But Ritsu wasn’t human, and walking around with a virtual girl in your phone, commenting that the rain should be over within the next hour just wasn’t the same thing.
((I used the rare pair maker for everything. I’m late af but idc, and some of these aren’t 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
“Those clothes suit you!”
Okajima was livid. Mostly. He was kinda offended that the girl’s were giggling at him. He was kinda offended that they weren’t 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 Nakamura’s miniskirt!
Sure, it would have been nice to get Kayano’s or another girls (one he was into more, y’know?), but Nakamura’s outfit wasn’t bad either. Plus, he could smell her perfume on it.
“Yo! How do I look?”
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 she’d returned to acting. It was in her blood. Being ordinary didn’t 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, y’know, getting stabbed and almost dying? Didn’t 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 couldn’t exactly be honest, now could she?)
Kayano wasn’t 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 wasn’t tough. The whole job was three episodes long, the dialogue was easy, she was naturally cute. Simple. But her co-star…
“Shall we play the pocky game now?”
Takebayashi was grinning ear to ear. She’d 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 he’d probably feel better. But Smog only had soup. Pumpkin soup.
“You realise this tastes shit with guns, right?”
“You realise I didn’t have to make anything for you?”
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 he’d never thought they’d get along well enough for this type of stuff.
Smog didn’t have to make him anything. Smog didn’t 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 didn’t think it was just the soup that was making him feel warm.
Day Four - Rare pair Maker
Time had passed. They’d entered high school, then university, then the ‘real world’. He’d 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. Valentine’s too. He didn’t 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 hadn’t been expecting Takebayashi to show up.
The last time they’d 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 hadn’t known. Regardless, he was certainly interested in listening now.
After the meeting, the Japanese group was getting ready to leave. They’d give Gakushuu’s company a few days to think. If they agreed to the project it’d start as soon as plans were finalised. If not, they’d head back to Japan and find someone else more willing to take up the mantle.
Gakushuu was interested but wasn’t 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 Valentine’s Day was after the Japanese team would go home. He panicked slightly.
It wasn’t 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. Gakushuu’s got heart eyes for dem shoujo eyes lmao)))
Day Five - First Meeting
People often complimented her on her maturity. She was everyone’s 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 didn’t 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 didn’t say anything, but she did her best to stay by Megu’s 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 Sensei’s lessons, she’d take an interest in Megu. It never hurt to have someone to look up to, to emulate, right?
And if that meant knowing Megu’s 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, Megu’s smile always made it worthwhile.
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 didn’t always believe them.)
But Gakuhou had his pride. What belonged to him was his. It was basic manners, taught in preschool. Don’t touch what isn’t yours.
His school was his pride. He’d built the junior high and the high school. Both marvellous buildings, beautiful and well designed, filled with the best technology and the brightest minds. They’d 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 Gakuhou’s 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 wasn’t his. Attempted to destroy what wasn’t his.
The building had suffered minor damage. The children too.
They’d survive.
But that was irrelevant.
Gakuhou was pissed. And he’d 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 father’s battles were not his own. And that gleam in the former principal’s 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 hadn’t died, if he hadn’t 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 isn’t allowed due to the age difference so I’d assume this would be the same but I don’t think it’s shippy? (Either the drabble or their canon relationship - I certainly don’t ship it lmao. Take is as you want. Personally I don’t even ship Koro/Aguri and think it was purely there because media is “”””meant””””” to have romance in it.)))
