Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Table of Contents (for convenience)

Chapter 1

This

Chapter 2

Working Title: Date

[General] [No archive warnings apply] 

Characters: Karma (POV), Rukiyo (OC), Kabaya (OC), Gakushuu (mention)

Summary: What almost could have been an intro to a Karushuu High School fic. 

Chapter 3

A little bit of things about this:

Summarily this will be a collection of stuff I've written that, after a while, I've decided to never formally publish as a fic. Everything here will be incomplete (hence why I don't publish it): most likely I'd had writers block, shelved the work for later, and then eventually just lost interest in it. Of course I'll still edit and cut stuff to make it presentable for this purpose and attempt to give a bit of closure (?) And who knows, if I feel the sudden spark of inspiration again, you might see it published as a main fic.

Most of the fics here will be Gakushuu centered. That's because I write a lot of Gakushuu-related things because I love him (but there might be some that deviate from that.)

Why am I doing this? Personally one problem for me is having so so many WIPs at once and not being able to move on from them. This is a way for me to "get it out of my system", I suppose? And I do still want to share some things while probably never going to clean it up.

Well, at the risk of sounding too sappy and cheesy and over-the-top, another reason: i'd like to think that being here for a bit I have made a couple of friends (Hi guys! I love you!). Some of yall are writers and gosh that's tough, I think we all need some solidarity. And I guess this is just me saying, I too have tons of stuff I let go and never complete! I only seem like I marginally know what I'm writing. Half my thoughts don't leave my head, and half of what does don't leave my drafts - or, well, until now. 

Also, everything here will be pretty much something I never plan to pick up ever again. If you want to adapt any of the ideas or something for your own, feel free! Let me know though.

Chapter Text

Date 

Gakushuu is the most infuriating, conceited, pompous asshole Karma knows and he's even including himself in the list. Karma has never met someone so full of himself, so high up in his stupid throne of ass-kissing and false charisma, so… so…

"Idiot!" Karma slams a fist on a table, startling a group of students a few tables away, and they hastily move slightly further. Karma glowers in their direction, then at the customary three table radius that most people give him unless in dire circumstances that were the Examination Period where empty tables were in short supply. Only then it would be a two table radius.

Karma, himself, was ranked 3 on the list. Ranked number 2 was Shiro, Dr Yanagisawa, creator of tentacles and Koro-sensei. 

"Didn't that guy literally try to kill you?" Rukiyo, one of the four people in the school who didn't abide by the Karma radius, chews thoughtfully on sour candy and raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, yeah, but we all knew he was evil," Karma says, "Asano could actually kill someone and people would still trust him. That's what makes him so dangerous."

"I think you're being biased," Rukiyo says, "besides, with that criteria, that would make you last on the list. Since you could be completely innocent and people would think you killed someone anyways."

Hence the zone of inhibition around Karma, attributed to his infamously violent personality that had people tripping over air to get away from him. His whole middle school delinquent years, being in what the media ridiculously dubs as the "assassination classroom", et cetera; all factors, but Karma was a changed man. 

"It's also the butterfly knife you carry around," Rukiyo points out, "you know, the one you like to pull out and play with? It's one of the biggest factors now, really, you scare people. You should get rid of it."

"It's my aesthetic," Karma protests.

"Therein lies the problem," Rukiyo tells him unhelpfully. Karma scowls. 

The other three people in Kunugigaoka High who did not treat Karma like a live wire were his other friend Kabaya, his other, other friend Isoe, and rather regretfully, Gakushuu Asano.

Gakushuu Asano regards Karma's butterfly knife with a distasteful look, then whips out his own and flips it around. He's met with awed looks and cheerful disposition all around, so it's not the butterfly knife, Ruikyo, suck it. 

It doesn't quite make him feel any better to win this argument.

"Maybe you should be less terrifying," Kayaba says cheerfully, "it's your vibe."

"Aesthetic," Rukiyo corrects.

"I don't want to be like Asano ," Karma wrinkles his nose. "He's such a… pansy. So many people are crowding around him all the time and he just cater to all their whims and kiss ass, pretending to be some charming leader with everyone wrapped around his little finger, to be his little minions like some totalitarian dictatorship."

"That's already a contradiction," Kabaya points out, "he can't kiss ass and have them be his minions, that's not how dictatorships work."

"He doesn't pretend to be charming," Rukiyo says, "he is charming. You have an unhealthy obsession with Asano, by the way, are you sure you're not wrapped around his finger?"

How dare . Preposterous. "Absolutely not," Karma hisses. 

"Uh huh," Rukiyo says, unconvinced. Kabaya, to his credit, stays silent.

"Besides," Rukiyo says, "we know he's a mean bitch. We just don't care."

Karma blinks, thoughts stuttering to a halt. "Huh? What?" 

"We know he's, you know, the way you described," she makes a vague gesture in the air, "cruel, conniving, whatever you want to call it. We're not blind, you know. It's kind of endearing, if you think about it."

Karma gapes like a dead fish. "Wha- but-"

Rukiyo, either oblivious or uncaring about Karma's imminent death, continues. "We like him anyways. You forget I was from Kunugigaoka Middle, Karma, we don't like Asano because we think he's a saint who descended from the lands of sugar and spice. We stood behind him even though he's a mean bitch, because he's our mean bitch and we trust him as our leader, to keep us safe and headed in the right direction."

"I get it," Kabaya says traitorously.

Rukiyo elaborates, "I wouldn't trust Asano not to cheat at cards if we're playing poker, but if there was a trust fall, I would- okay, no, I wouldn't pick him to catch me in a trust fall because I would pick either of you two but if there was a school wide trust fall where I had to pick one person who would catch everyone else and make sure no one hits the ground despite of any personal bias, I would pick Asano." 

Karma thinks.

"We don't trust him because we think he's too good to betray us," Kabaya says. "We trust him because he's selfish and we're his."

"I know you think all of us 'main campus' people are idiots with blind faith," Rukiyo says, tone light but eyes hard, "we're not stupid, Karma, we're in Kunugigaoka after all; we don't choose our president just because he has a pretty face."

"Of course not," Karma says weakly.

“Besides,” Rukiyo says, leaning forward. “You forget who our old principal was. Of course we would pick the one and only person who stands a chance against him.”

Fair enough. Perhaps Rukiyo and Kabaya are right, Karma thinks, that the school overlooks Asano's cruelty and sharpness; in fact they seem to rather adore his meanness, in a strange way. Once he stops dismissing the gossip floating as mindless chatter and listens , he finds that Asano is a popular topic of discussion and that his demeanor is fawned over rather than avoided.

"It's because they know where his loyalties lie," Kabaya tries to explain to him, "you're a wild card but Asano is like… a… dog." Then he cringes, and then shrugs.

A guard dog, Karma soon realizes, when he finds out that Asano is single-handedly keeping up Kunugigaoka's reputation. Not as studious intelligent nerds, no, the general student population has no problems with keeping up in the national scoreboards all by themselves. But as compared to the similarly prestigious private schools across the country, there are many being mocked and stereotyped by their public school counterparts for being soft "nerds" in a rather Terasaka fashion. Karma himself is considered an outlier in Kunugigaoka and left out of the equation when assessing the school as a whole, but Asano is a vicious leader that puts Kunugigaoka above even the grungiest of public schools that wouldn't bat an eye at Karma's reputation and challenge him.

"Am I less scary than him?!" Karma demands, slamming his hands on the table.

"You've been suspended , Karma," Rukiyo points out, "you skip school, you oversleep, you're a mess ."

"What she means," Kabaya says, smacking her and patting Karma on the back, "is that you paint a typical picture of a school delinquent. Superficially terrifying but common. Asano is," he makes an aborted hand gesture, and Karma scowls.

"The best ," Rukiyo says.

"Something like that," Kabaya says, "he's put together and he has an exemplary record, he's in the council and does sports and music and can still manage to kick your ass. That's a different level." 

"You're scary in the way that you might try to jump out of an alleyway and mug me on my way home. Asano is scary in the way that he'll sue me until I'm penniless and sell my whole family to slavery."

Karma crosses his arms. "I'm just as smart as he is." 

Rukiyo pats his arm reassuringly. "We know, honey."

Chapter Text

Demon Fic

"The truth is..." Karma says, looking awkwardly between his classmates. He doesn't have to turn around to know that Asano is laughing his head off.

"...I'm being... haunted... by a ghost."

"Haunted by a ghost," Terasaka says, "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"It's true," Karma says weakly. "I'm being haunted by a very, very annoying ghost who thinks it's very funny to make me keep talking to myself to I look like a lunatic!"

Asano laughs harder. Of course nobody hears him. 

"Do something," Karma hisses to thin air. Everybody looks at him oddly.

"Karma," Koro-sensei says gently, "I think maybe you should take a break-" 

"I'm not crazy," Karma protests. "Uh, ghost, do something? Please? Flip a table? i'll make you a super nice bento?"

Very hesitantly, Nagisa reaches out and pats Karma's arm twice. "It's okay," he says, "maybe your ghost is just tired."

No, no! Asano was being an asshole. Yes, maybe Karma should have kept himself more low-key, but this was ridiculous. He was going to get laughed at forever. They had an octopus supercreature for a teacher, they'd believe a ghost.

"I'll tell everyone," Karma hisses, "I'll tell ever-"

Every table in class topples over. 

"What the heck was that?!" Bitch-sensei shrieks. Karasuma-sensei has his gun out. Nobody moves. 

From the other end of the classroom, Asano glares at him coldly. Karma thinks he's in trouble. The students follow his line of sight to see a piece of chalk float and scratch "Fuck You, Karma Akabane" in neat script over the blackboard, each stroke slow and deliberate.

The chalk falls and hits the ground. 

Asano is angry at him, that much Karma knows. He spends a good ten minutes trying to fit his key into the lock of his house, then just gives up and picks it. His room is unnaturally cold, and he buries himself in three blankets and says to his empty ceiling, "I wasn't going to tell anyone." 

His room is silent.

"I'm sorry," Karma says.

Nobody replies him.

He gets bugged about his "ghost" the next during class and even Bitch-sensei abandons her lesson to interrogate him, but Karma can't offer any more than a helpless shrug. He doesn't see head or tail or wing feather of Asano for a whole week, which makes his stomach twist oddly; Karma realizes that even when Asano's not physically present, there's a weight of their contract that settles around Karma like a warm blanket. Now it feels like it's been yanked off his shoulders - he's so used to the presence that the lack of it is horrifyingly empty. Even the tingling in his gut is lacklustre and cold.

"You seem sad, Karma," Nagisa says, settling down next to him. "Is it about the ghost?"

"Something like that," Karma says. "He's mad at me."

"You look listless," Nagisa observes. "What happened?"

"He's ignoring me," Karma says, "when I... threatened to expose him. guess I didn't realize I kind of liked his annoying presence."

"I'd always noticed you staring into blank space, or talking to yourself," Nagisa tells him, "I didn't want to assume. I didn't know it was a ghost," he pauses, "that's how you knew ahout Takaota, and Reaper and Irina," he guesses.

"Yeah," Karma says.

"Naybe if he's mad at you, you should apologize," Nagisa says. 

Karma shoots him a wiry look. "I've tried that, but I can't even find him."

"Well where does he normally go when he's not haunting you?" Nagisa asks. "He surely isn't around you all the time." 

"He goes home, I guess," Karma thinks.

"Like the... afterlife? Heaven or Hell?" Nagisa looks puzzled.

Karma snorts. That is an apt description for the Asano household, he thinks, with two demons living in it. "Hell, yes." 

Bur that brings out a few new... opportunities, which Karma isn't sure he wants to take. Asano senior is a link to his son but Karma thinks he'll actually get killed. 

"Karma?" Nagisa asks.

"Oh," Karma says. "I dont know about you, but there's no way im going to hell."

"...Okay," Nagisa says. "Uh, do let me know if you need any assistance. With your ghost."

"Thanks," Karma says sincerely.

What Karma doesn't expect at all is for Itona to approach him. They aren't even that close, and Itona doesn't seem like a nosy person, but he stands next to Karma during lunch and patiently waits for Karma to say, "what?"

"You have two bentos," Itona says.

"Uh, well," Karma says. "One's for my ghost."

"I didn't know ghosts eat."

Karma frowns. "Think of it like a offering, then."

"What's his favorite food?" Itona asks.

Karma stares suspiciously. Most of his classmates laughed awkwardly and left it alone at any mention of the ghost. Karma knows the table flipping, chalk floating incident still spooked people, especially after Ritsu's scan that determined that Karma did nothing to manipulate the events.

"I don't know," Karma says honestly. He'd never bothered to ask, and now he feels a little bad. Asano just ate whatever Karma made for him.

Itona looks pensive for a moment. Very oddly, he glances left, right, as if anyone was listening in in their empty classroom, and then he leans forward and whispers, "Tamagoyaki."

Karma blinks once, twice. "I'm sorry?"

"It's the first thing he tasted that you made," Itona says. "He likes it."

Karma jumps to his feet. "What the f- how did you-"

"He told me," Itona says, brows furrowed.

What? What? This isn't possible. Huh, what? Asano talked to Itona, did Itona know that he was a demon? But he said ghost, right? Karma felt betrayed. "How-"

Itona yelps. Karma watches him jump a foot into the air and crash into a table. "Ow."

Karma doesn't help him up. He grips his chopsticks harder. "What the hell was that," he hisses. He has a very good guess.

"Your ghost is mad at me now," Itona says. He rubs his head. 

Karma blanches. Asano was listening in? It made sense that he could make himself invisible to Karma too, if he could to others, but why?" 

"Can you see him?" Karma asks.

"No," Itona says. "Can you?"

"Yeah," Karma says. He purses his lips. "Well, not now. Why did he talk to you?"

Itona is on his feet, pushing the tables back into line. He doesn't say anything for a while, chewing on his bottom lip, then, "he talked to me in Shiro's lab."

Karma's eyes widen. 

"He said," Itona hesitates, "well, he just asked me questions, about who I was and what Shiro wanted to do."

Oh. That explained a lot on how Asano got answers. "Does he talk to you otherwise?"

"No," Itona says. "I suspected it was the same ghost, because he talked about you."

Karma waits a beat, then two. The tingling is a low, simmering anger, but it's warmer than whatever silent treatment he'd been getting the past week. "What did he say?"

"He asked me why I called you strong," Itona shifts awkwardly. "He said you were... nice."

Karma feels really, really bad now. Something else stirs in his gut. That's not even Asano this time, it's the guilt. He gets up and heads towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Itona calls.

"Hell," Karma says.

He doesn't have to knock on the door of the principal's office. It creaks open when Karma arrives which, is the worst, he thinks. It's the absolute worst. This is where he dies.

Karma steps in. The door does the courtesy of closing itself. How nice.

The Principal is sitting in his chair, mounds of paperwork abandoned in favor of laughing at him. "Hello, Akabane," he snickers.

"You know why I'm here," Karma says miserably. 

"I do," Asano senior agrees. He drums his fingers against his desk like a smug, smug asshole. Karma scowls at him, then forcibly smoothens out his scowl because this is Gakuhou Asano, demon. 

The Principal's grin grows. Luckily demons couldn't read minds. Wait, was that just for half demons? Shit.

"Can I," Karma shifts awkwardly. "Uh, talk to him?"

"Do you expect me to tie the brat down to a chair so you could have a conversation?" The Principal looks amused. 

"Um," Karma says.

"He's such a wilful child," the Principal sighs theatrically. "He'll get over it in a couple decades." 

Karma winces. "I don't... have a couple decades."

The Principal leans forward, looking predatory. He asks, "do you perhaps enjoy my son's company, Akabane? A demon like himself?" And Karma feels his face heat up. He fidgets a little. 

He sits back on his chair, apparently satisfied with whichever nonverbal answer he got. "Maybe," he says, waving a hand around, "you should recreate the circumstances for your first meeting. I hear that brings the spark back into things."

He was definitely being teased now. Karma wasn't going to comment on that. But their first meeting? He supposes the Principal is referring to his discovery of Asano's, ah, demonhood, but how would that work? He was sure it'd piss Asano off even more, or invite more trouble. "Summoning a demon in the janitor's closet?" Karma murmurs, wondering how that was supposed to work.

The Principal freezes, and his eyes start glowing an ominous crimson. The atmosphere shifts. Shit, shit shit shit shit. 

"That was you?"

Karma's dead. "I'm," he says, jabbing a thumb towards the door, "gonna... go."

"Akabane..."

If Karma thought Asano's demon voice was terrifying, his father has him beat. Half versus full demons, or child versus adult? Whatever, Karma wasn't staying to find out.

Karma probably needs to switch schools, change his identity. He needs to move out of the country. He needs to escape. Karma backs towards the exit and slams into something hard, and whips around and screams.

Oh, it's Asano. 

Oh, it's Asano!

Asano looks at him balefully. The tingling in Karma's stomach is a soft unpleasant bubbling, Karma doesn't know what it means. "I-"

"For your sake," Asano says, and his voice is exasperated and almost affectionate and Karma really, really misses it. "I think you should go."

"I'm going to cook you the best meal ever," Karma promises, then runs for his life.

Chapter Text

;)

Karma doesn’t get jealous. 

He doesn’t get jealous of the other students clearly vying for Asano’s attention, the girls that push up to him and twirl their hair between their fingers or the boys that stare in the locker rooms, because he knows where Asano goes after school and it’s not to any of them.

Karma doesn’t get jealous, but the strawberry milk carton explodes in his hand.

The people around stares at him in bewilderment. Karma blinks down at himself, and numbly accepts the tissue from Tanaka. In the center of class, Asano’s gaze flickers over for a brief moment, before the exchange student whatever-hell-his-name-was says something else and Asano turns back to him and laughs.

There’s a group of exchange students from another big-shot school in Japan and one of them is something else, and Asano stares at him with stars in his eyes and ignores Karma they brush past in the hallway which, what the heck. Asano doesn’t go back to his house that Thursday or next Monday because he’s busy playing the good student council president and entertaining the exchange students or something stupid like that. 

--

“He’s definitely flirting with him,” Karma mumbles under his breath. 

“Who with who?” Kabaya looks up, curious.

Rukiyo nudges him. “Those two over there,” she says.

“Asano and Kobayashi?”

“Kobayashi. Stupid name,” Karma mutters. 

“ Who’s supposed to be doing the flirting?” Kabaya squints at them, Asano laughing at something Kobawhatever’s is saying. He has a hand on Asano’s shoulder now.

“Time out,” Rukiyo says. She and Kabaya forcibly drag Karma out of the cafeteria. Karma kicks a chair on the way out and Asano still doesn’t bother glancing over.

That bitch.

--

“You bitch,” Karma says, when he has finally gotten Asano alone, pressed up against the lockers. 

“The hell is your problem?” Asano snaps back, and shoves Karma off but Karma just slams him back and feels the slightest bit of guilt when the back of Asano’s head hits the metal with a loud clang. He crushes the front of Asano's shirt in his fists and kisses him meanly, and Asano returns just as forcefully.

Then Asano pushes him off and knees him in the gut, fixes his collar and says, “Don’t wait for me. I’m meeting up with the exchange kids.”

Karma fumes. “Stay away from Kobawhatever.”

“You mean Hanta?”

“Oh, so you’re on a first name basis with him now?”

Asano looks delighted. “Are you jealous, Akabane?”

“Fuck you!” Karma snaps. Asano grins and runs off, and Karma narrows his eyes at his retreating back. He’s going to get Asano back for this - he imagines them in private, Asano begging for forgiveness. That's a pretty sight.

--

Karma doesn’t end up getting that fantasy, because he socks Kobayashi in the jaw in the school courtyard that Wednesday. Asano pulls him back and yells at him, and he looks so pissed and gorgeous and Karma pulls him in by the tie and kisses him in front of half the school population. 

Asano wrenches away, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Kobayashi is nursing a bruise on his lower jaw. Karma glares at Kobayashi, who takes a step back, and snarls, “don’t touch him.”

Asano’s face is burning red. “I can take care of myself."

Karma glares at him. “Yeah, I know you can, but I don’t have to fucking like it when he puts his hands over you.”

“Don’t swear,” Asano says absently, still in a daze.

“I d-didn’t know you were taken, Gakushuu,” Kobayashi stammers, and puts his hands up in surrender when Karma advances on him.

“It’s Asano to you,” Karma grins at him with sharp teeth, “you don’t call Gakushuu by his first name unless you two are fucking.”

Asano slaps him. Karma grabs his hands and pulls him close and kisses him again.

--

“The entire school thinks we’re dating!” Asano yells at him much later, more embarrassed than angry. 

“Shut up,” Karma says. 

Asano shuts up. 

--

Much later, Karma unties Asano’s wrists and winces as Asano rubs the raw skin around his hands. 

“I overreacted, didn’t I,” Karma says quietly.

“Yeah,” Asano scoffs softly. 

Karma turns away. Asano huffs and traces the lines down Karma’s back, presses himself there, and wraps his arms around Karma’s waist. It’s more sensual than sexual and it makes Karma’s heart skip a beat. 

“This isn’t just a friends with benefits thing anymore, is it,” Karma says.

“We weren’t friends,” is what Asano deems as an appropriate reply, “you punched my friend in the face when he hugged me.”

“He was touching your butt!” Karma protests.

“He was not,” Asano says. 

Karma puts his lips against the red marks on Asano’s arms and his mouth against Asano’s neck, and he does apologize to Kobayashi the next day while Asano glares daggers with his arms crossed. Karma gets into trouble with the teachers for punching an exchange student and gets threatened with another suspension, but Asano lets Karma whisper death threats into his skin and pats his hair with something that sounds like “there there, honey bunches,” so it’s all kind of worth it, in Karma's humble unbiased opinion.

Chapter Text

Prepare for trouble, make it double

Hakuho Asano, sixteen and royally pissed off, steps off the plane and back to Japan with a vengeance. 

“If you wanted to start some international bullshit with some star-wars family dynamics drama, you didn’t have to drag me down with your media shitstorm,” she hisses, “I’m getting pulled into your shit from the other side of the world because you and papa can’t keep your testosterone in your pants long enough to think with your brains.” 

Gakushuu crosses his arms. “Coming back here was a mistake,” he warns. 

“Suffer,” Hakuho snarls. “Take my luggage. Don’t drop anything, it’s worth more than what’s left of your fucking inheritance.”

--

Hakuho turns heads the moment she steps into her new school. Boys are already tripping over their feet, watching her roll her eyes at them, how typical.

“Scored top three in Phillips Academy all the years I was there,” she says boredly when her homeroom teacher asks her to introduce herself. “Unfortunate circumstances pulled me back to Japan.” Her eyes flick over her new classmates with disinterest and lands at Gakushuu, who’s watching her with an impassive expression.

“And your name?” The teacher prompts politely.

Hakuho’s lips curl. She’s not sure what branding her last name would give her. Gakushuu hadn’t been particularly vocal about his social standing in the school and the association might be unwelcome. Maybe if he had been anything like her, he would be at the top of the food chain; but alas, Gakushuu was an idiot. She just hopes that whatever his reputation at Kunugigaoka High was, he wouldn’t anchor her down with him.

“Hakuho Asano,” she drawls.

And then she finds out it’s worse than she’d imagined, because not only was Gakushuu a popular bitch, he was a popular ikeman goody-two-shoes preppy bitch. She’s not too sure if she’d rather him be a loser instead.

Which, ew.

--

“Fucking nerd,” Hakuho says.

“It wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer in public,” Gakushuu says lowly to her.

“Are you even hearing yourself, hypocrite?” Hakuho bares her teeth, “Fake. Have to be the teacher’s pet because your the son of the ex-principal?” She kicks the back of his chair. “Were you like this even when Papa was at the top? You didn’t even need to suck up to anyone then, you just liked-”

“Hakuhou,” Gakushuu says, a drip of exhaustion in his voice. “Please.”

--

“Was Gakushuu always such a buzzkill?” Hakuho asks, watching her brother grab dinner off the table and then sulk up to his room. “How did you stand him for all those years?”

Gakuhou sighs with the weariness of a hundred old men, “you didn’t try to provoke him again, did you? Please leave your brother alone.”

“He’ll be fine after a tantrum,” Hakuho dismisses, “how’s the job, papa?”

“Going great,” Gakuhou says, “I’m sorry you had to drop out of Philips. I hope it didn’t ruin your future prospects.”

“Top in an elite school in Japan does have a pretty okay ring to it,” Hakuho sighs. “Kunugigaoka’s no Philips but it’d have to do. If only you remained principal for a few more years, you’d have it’s reputation built up to par in no time.”

--

Hakuho learns that Gakushuu is the second top student in Kunugigaoka (which, now that she's here, she supposes he'll drop to third). Which means that one, everyone else in Kunugiagoka was an idiot; two, the only other student smarter that Gakushuu will be the only interesting one who might stand a chance in giving her a challenge. She’s not optimistic, because whoever that was Gakushuu had been consistently matching him in his grades, which meant that overall he was still barely better than her brother. 

The third thing she learns is that said student, Karma Akabane, is kind of cute, but also an insufferable prat.

Akabane’s gaze flickers to her when he first steps into the classroom and Hakuho matches his look, and she knows she has him right where she wants... up until the point that he blinks at her like she’s the least interesting thing in the room and looks away, which infuriates and intrigues her. But the biggest blow to her ego was when Akabane makes a beeline for her brother, choosing him over her, which, what? What?

“What?” She says aloud, and everyone turns to look at her. (Well, everyone but Akabane.) Gakushuu shoots her an incredulous expression which then turns smug and understanding, and Hakuho glares harder. To make matters worse, Akabane seems intent on disregarding her existence which nobody has ever done, ever. Hakuho’s not sure if she’s supposed to be impressed or pissed off and then she decides, pissed off is the way to go. She doesn’t even really want his attention; it’s just the principle of the matter.

“Something the matter, dear sister?” Gakushuu asks mockingly, when she slams her palms onto his desk just as the last few people vacate the classroom. It’s not beneath her pride to ask Gakushuu for anything and everything he knows about Karma Akabane except that it is, and Gakushuu would lord over that for ages. So Hakuho scoffs and says, “You’re going to the mall after school.”

“Am I?” says Gakushuu.

“Yes,” says Hakuho. “I need a new wardrobe.”

“I don’t want to go shopping with you,” Gakushuu gripes, but when the bell rings at the end of the day he still slings Hakuho’s schoolbag over his shoulder and grumbles as he follows her from store to store. 

--

“Hey,” Gakushuu nudges her, glancing over his shoulder with an annoyed expression, “think you can make it from here to the carpark in five with all the bags?”

“I’m sorry?” Hakuho stares, “do you expect me to carry all of these-”

The bags are unceremoniously dumped into her hands anyways and she squawks in indignation. She’s too classy to cause a scene so she just fumes with her shopping and wonder if that idiot really abandoned her like that and was he sprinting in the opposite direction? The car is waiting when she shoves all her bags in the boot. Two minutes after Gakushuu slides into the seat next to her, panting like he just ran a marathon, and “are you bleeding?”

“If you really wanted to avoid the terrible media about our disgraced family name,” Gakushuu says, all sharp teeth, “you really shouldn’t have come back to Japan.” And that’s all the say about the matter for the entire ride back. 

--

The pictures of a very angry man (a parent of an ex-student from Kunugiagoka) assaulting her brother with a glass bottle already made local papers, which led her to the eventual click-swipefest of articles that didn’t quite make international news but made side columns in their city newspapers. Gakuhou was a hard man to find or intimidate but apparently protesters had no qualms about releasing their pent-up anger on his sixteen year old son.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Gakushuu snaps at her when she kicks down his room door, but makes space on the bed when Hakuho knocks him on the side of his head and calls him an idiot.

“I didn’t even need stitches this time,” Gakushuu says almost gloatingly. 

Of course Gakushuu could take care of his fucking self. Hakuho doesn’t worry, but she still sets his name on google alerts. And then disables it because he’s brought up too fucking often to be relevant; who turns assault victims into a meme? Was this world full of idiots?

--

The Virtuosos were such annoying. Sakakibara kept trying to hit on her for about two weeks up until the point Gakushuu told him to stick it up his ass, which was unnecessary but honestly appreciated. Araki was so quiet despite him being some broadcasting person it kind of unnerved her, Seo was an asshole and not in the nice way, and Koyama was just weird. Why did Gakushuu even hang out with these people? 

If Akabane hung out with them, she theorizes, he too must be messed in the head. 

--

“Hello,” Hakuho says, “Akabane, right?” Akabane looks at her with a weird expression. He’s the only person she hasn’t spoken a single word to in her class in the two months she’s been at Kunugigaoka and it’s starting to get a little out of hand. 

“Asano,” Akabane greets, “can I help you?”

“I just wanted to say hi,” Hakuho says, “We’ve been in the same class for two months and we’ve never spoken.”

“Huh,” Akabane says, “okay. Hello.”

Hakuho pauses. She’d expected Akabane to pick up the conversation or find something to talk about like literally everyone she has spoken to, but Akabane just stares. She’s starting to feel a little unnerved and Akabane’s face is carefully blank but she just knows he’s laughing at her. 

How would she know what to say? Most people fall over their feet for her and she never initiates conversation.

There is one thing they both have in common, through. “How’s being in the same class as Gakushuu?”

Akabane blinks. “Shuu?” Wait, what? “Why, did he say anything about me?”

Gakushuu, walking past the pair, just sighs. “Don’t call me Shuu.”

Akabane grins then, absolutely predatory. “Aww, Shuu-”

“NO,” Gakushuu says loudly, and around her her classmates snicker, and wait, what? What was she missing?

--

“Now that you mention it,” Gakuhou muses, “Akabane hasn’t been around since you came back.”

“Does he come over often?” Hakuho says, brows furrowed.

“Quite,” her father says mischievously, “he and your brother have quite a, uh, unconventional friendship, I would say.”

Gakushuu, storming past them in the living room with his laptop bag and yells, “you two better not be gossiping about me!”

“We have better things to talk about than you, idiot,” Hakuho calls out. Gakushuu flips her off as he slams the door closed, and Gakuhou snickers to himself.

--

“This is such bullshit,” Hakuho marvels, flipping through the newspaper article spanning several pages detailing every single moment of one Gakushuu Asano. Gakuhou looks mournfully at his morning entertainment snatched out of his hands, but there was no way he was getting it back.

“Is Gakushuu like, a celebrity?” Hakuho says in disbelief.

“A very minor celebrity,” Gakuhou says miserably, deigning to read the back of the cereal box instead, “but yes. Apparently being the only son and student council president of the ex-principal of the school who played host to a genocidal monstrous super-creature really boosts one’s prominence in society. He has more followers than me on twitter.”

“Gakushuu has a twitter?” Hakuho says. 

“And an Instagram,” Gakuhou sighs.

“He’s fucking verified,” Hakuho gasps, scrolling through her phone. “How did I not find out about this sooner?” Gakushuu’s actually active on his social media. Huh.

“Because you couldn’t care less about your brother or whatever he does with his time,” Gakuhou says.

“I don’t,” Hakuho insists, “but when your younger brother is has a little blue check mark next to his crappy username, you would want to know.”

--

“Oh my god, what is this?!” She thrusts her phone into her father’s face.

“What am I looking at,” Gakuhou squints.

“This,” Hakuhou aggressively jabs her phone screen, “this!”

“Hashtag stupid-things-my-boyfriend-says,” Gakuhou mutters, “yeah, that’s a really popular one-”

“No, boyfriend?!” Hakuhou shrieks, “what?!”

Gakuhou gives her an amazed expression. “How uninvested are you in Gakushuu’s life? Haven’t you been in class A for three months-”

“-I could hear screaming from the bathroom,” Gakushuu says irritably, “honestly, Hakuho, what is your fucking pro-”

“You’re gay?!”

“I’m bisexual,” Gakushuu corrects, wrinkling his nose, “is that what has you in hysterics at 7am in the morning, because-”

“You have a boyfriend?! How come I didn’t know? And you’re verified on social media? You didn’t think this was good information to share with me?!”

“Honestly, I didn’t think it’d take you this long to figure out,” Gakushuu says, “and you’re supposed to be smarter than me? Christ, Hakuho-”

“Oh my god,” Hakuho says, as the realization slams into her, “you’re dating fucking Akabane.”

“Great job,” Gakushuu yawns. “See you later.”

--

"You!"

Akabane startles. "Hi, Asano."

Hakuho points an accusing finger at him. "You're dating my brother!"

Akabane stares at her like she's an idiot. "You didn't know?"

"Ugh!"

"Stop yelling in the morning," Gakushuu ambles into class, two cups of coffee and a packet of strawberry milk in his hands. Hakuho snatches a cup, takes a sip, makes a face, and then swaps it out with the other.

"I think you need more sugar in your life," Hakuho says, wrinkling her nose. "Maybe if you consumed more sugar, you'd be less miserable."

"Amen to that," Karma says, raising his strawberry milk like a beer. 

Chapter Text

What??

The first, rather obvious clue that something was wrong, (after embarrassingly falling head-first into a pit and briefly blacking out,) is that the hand that reached in to pull him out belonged to his father’s favorite long-dead student Rikuto Ikeda.

--

Gakushuu picks himself back up and dusts his pants, and scrapes the rest of his dignity from the floor to face the crowd, except that the group of idiots who had originally pushed him in were no longer there, and facing him instead was a very disgruntled and sorrowful looking Ikeda.

“I got,” said Ikeda, “pushed in that pit too. Uh, are you alright?”

Gakushuu thinks he can be forgiven for staring. This is obviously a fever dream and Gakushuu is clearly still unconscious. Those idiots are probably surrounding said pit and figuring out how to bury him.

Whatever. Might as well make the best of it.

“Where are they?” Gakushuu asks.

To which Ikeda says, “what?”

“The ones that pushed you in,” Gakushuu lies. “Might be the same ones that got me, I didn’t see them.”

“They were hanging by the park entrance,” Ikeda says. 

--

There’s a group of teenagers lounging by the water fountain and they sneer at Ikeda as they approach. 

“Hey loser,” says Mean Guy One to Ikeda, “didn’t know you could make friends.”

“Hey,” says Mean Guy Two to Gakushuu, “what are you doing hanging out with that weirdo?”

Gakushuu gives them the post-Ikeda Asano evil grin. Five minutes later Ikeda is suitably terrified and cowering on the other side of the fountain, watching in horrified curiosity as Gakushuu rifles through the bag of Mean Guy Six.

Gakushuu pulls something out. “What the fuck is this?”

“That’s my phone!” Mean Guy Six yells. 

Painfully obvious clue number two that something was wrong: Gakushuu was holding a flip phone in his hands.

(Not that he was being discriminatory or anything. People probably still own flip phones. Not everyone can afford smartphones. It’s just… well… less commonplace.)

He makes deliberate eye contact as he snaps the phone in two. Mean Guy Six makes a noise hilariously resembling a cry. Gakushuu scoffs, and empties the contents of the bag of Mean Guy Five on the ground, and steps on some things just because. Everyone makes pained noises as more flip phone screens shatter under Gakushuu’s heel. 

Clue three: the newspaper dated twelve odd years ago.

“Dude!” Mean Guy Four sobs, “we’re sorry!”

“Ikeda, we won’t bother you again,” Mean Guy Three grovels, “hey man, we’re really sorry. We’ll pay you back for the stuff we broke. Please get your friend to back off.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. He grabs the newspaper off the ground and turns around, and Ikeda follows him from a safe distance of five feet behind as Gakushuu storms back to the pit.

“They weren't the ones that pushed you in, were they?” Ikeda says.

“Nope,” Gakushuu tells him. He squints at the pit. Maybe if he goes in and climbs out again he’ll see his friends the idiots from his time instead of whatever concussion migraine hallucination he’s having right now. 

“Well, I have to say thanks, although you didn’t have to beat them up so badly- what are you doing?!”

“Hm?” Gakushuu says, one leg in the pit. “Testing something out.” He settles in comfortably, folds his arms over his chest, and closes his eyes. Opens them to see Ikeda’s worried face silhouetted against the sunlight.

“What year is it?” Gakushuu asks him.

Ikeda scrunches up his nose and tells him.

Gakushuu thinks. He looks at the pieces of a flip phone in one hand, and the newspaper in another. “Can I borrow your phone?”

The phone Ikeda hands him nervously is also a flip phone. Gakushuu frowns consideringly at it, then calls the police. A very official sounding man answers it, and Gakushuu asks, “what year is it?”

There’s a pause on the line. The police officer tells him, then says, “it’s illegal to prank call the police, you know.”

“Whatever,” Gakushuu says, and hangs up. He hands Ikeda back his phone, climbs out of the pit, then takes a deep breath and front-flips into it.

There’s a scream. Gakushuu briefly blacks out for a second, then opens his eyes to see that once again, disappointingly, the scream has come from Ikeda. He scowls, rubs his head, then sees that his finger is coated in red. “I think you need to take me to the hospital,” he tells Ikeda.

Ikeda screams again.

--

Tokyo University Hospital looks surprisingly outdated. 

Discreetly he pulls out his phone from his pocket as they wait in line, and it blinks “no battery” at him, but it had been at half when he fell in. He’s not sure if it’s the whole time-travel thing, the universe saying “fuck you”, or just the unpredictability of an iphone battery life. Maybe all three?

“What’s that?” Ikeda says, then shrinks back when Gakushuu gives him the Asano glare. 

“I taped a glass brick to a metal brick,” Gakushuu tells him. He puts his phone back in his pocket.

“You’re really weird,” Ikeda says quietly. “Thanks again for, uhm, beating those guys up for me, but you didn’t have to. And not breaking my phone in two.”

“How long has that pit been in the park?” Gakushuu asks. He’s never going out with the Virtuosos (plus Karma) again, causing him all this fucking trouble with time-travel holes in the ground. He shouldn’t alter the past because he has no clue what repercussions there were, but he’d already beat up those assholes harassing Ikeda and for all he knows that could have been the turning point where Ikeda chooses to not jump off that bridge, which… might not be a bad thing, in any case. Maybe this means Gakushuu would get to have a normal childhood with a normal dad.

“I actually don’t know,” Ikeda muses, “I don’t remember seeing it before today, though. Kind of weird that someone dug a large hole near the pavement.” 

Fucking hell. Ikeda goes to say something to the reception as they’re called up, then comes back looking rather put out and says, “you don’t happen to have your identification with you, do you?”

Oh fuck.

“Bye,” says Gakushuu. He heads to the exit.

“You’re still bleeding!” Ikeda yells. He trips over someone’s wheelchair. 

It’s not so bad, Gakushuu thinks. The red in his hair gives him some kind of rugged badass look, and the blood flowing down the side of his head accentuates his cheekbones and jawline, even if it stings a little.

Either real-life him is still unconscious with a bleeding gash on his forehead, or he really has time traveled and five idiots are frantically digging through a shallow pit trying to find out where he disappeared to. Heh.

“If you really don’t want to go to a hospital,” Ikeda says shiftily, bounding up to Gakushuu’s side, “I know someone who can help. It’s the least I can do.”

Good little boy Ikeda has some bad friends who know a thing or two about avoiding government services and professional medical care? Looks like his dad didn’t know everything about his favorite student after all-

“-I’ll call my teacher, he’s great, you’ll like him. Hey, you kinda look a little like him, now that I think about it.”

Wait what? Oh no, oh fuck.

Gakushuu manages to sprint as far as across the parking lot and then he’s roughly tackled to the ground. If he didn’t have a concussion before this, he’d certainly have one now. 

“Stop running away!” Ikeda says, “aw man, did I hit you too hard? I’m so sorry, you sure you don’t want to go back to the hospital?”

Gakushuu squints at him. “I forgot you played basketball.”

“Yeah, I do- wait, how do you know-”

Gakushuu opens his mouth, but his head swims. He resigns to his fate. “Just call your teacher.”

Ikeda sits on him for the entirety of the time and awkwardly waves away concerned passers-by. It’s a lot harder to dismiss medical professionals when he’s staining Ikeda’s white shirt red but Gakushuu brutally re-educates someone on the art of minding their own damn business and everyone gives them a wide berth after that. The look on Ikeda’s face says he’s considering booking it there and then, but whatever upstanding moral code his father was capable of intilling into his students left it’s mark and Ikeda warily stubbornly stays.

When a familiar license plate pulls into the parking lot, Gakushuu moves his forehead from Ikeda’s shoulder to the sidewalk, and lets out a long drawn-out groan. Maybe if he makes a break for it while they’re distracted he can make it to the park pit and hopefully wake out of this nightmare.

“Hello Asano-sensei, thanks for answering my call- oh, the blood’s not mine, it actually belongs to this guy, uhm.”

There’s an expectant pause, in which Gakushuu supposes it means they're waiting for him to offer his name. He does not.

“Uh, okay. He helped me with a, uh, problem I was having. And he… fell into a giant hole? But he wouldn’t go to the hospital.”

Gee, Ikeda sure was brushing up on Gakushuu’s brilliant traits. He resolutely keeps his eyes closed and forehead planted to the ground. Maybe the shadow looming over him will go away.

“Hey, kid, are you alright?” His father’s very uncharacteristically worried voice asks. He sounds exactly the same. Well, almost the same, it didn’t quite sound as cold and condescending the last time Gakushuu remembered. 

How funny, Gakushuu definitely didn’t have a traumatic childhood or anything like that. He totally wasn’t suffering from parental neglect or touch starvation or anything like that.

Nope.

“Sensei, I’ll hold him,” Ikeda says. That sentence makes no sense without visual cues until Ikeda says again, “hey Ga-ku-shuu!” And a toddler babbles in the background.

Could this day get any worse?

“Hi,” little-Gakushuu says. Gakushuu doesn’t want to brag but he sounds adorable. How old is he? Four? 

“Kid?” His father asks again. Gakushuu considers his options, thinks about the possibility of headbutting his father and then running to the park, winces as more pain swims in his head, then reconsiders his options agan. Then cuts his losses, sighs, and looks up.

Violet eyes and blonde hair weren’t exactly the world’s rarest combination, but the similarity between him and his father is ever more apparent when they’re together and Ikeda is frantically looking between them now with his mouth comically open. 

Little Gakushuu squirms in Ikeda’s lap with wide-eyed curiosity..

“I don’t think the hospital parking lot is the best place to have this conversation,” Gakushuu tells them.

--

“Hi Jin,” Gakushuu greets, when he gets into the car. The driver, Jin, blinks at him. Ikeda shrugs back as he clambers into the passenger seat. Gakuhou deigns to sit at the back and smile suspiciously at Gakushuu while holding the toddler version in his lap with a protectiveness that’s oddly hilarious.

Little Gakushuu blabbers something and then sticks his thumb in his mouth.

Gakushuu prepares himself. He turns to Gakuhou, stares with the post-Ikeda Asano Stare until even Gakuhou looks uncomfortable, then says, “I’m your son from twelve years in the future.” 

--

“My name is Gakushuu Asano and I’m sixteen.” He recites all his personal particulars, his address and phone number, and then passes his ID around. He keeps his blank expression and watches everyone dissolve into hysterics.

After Ikeda stops screaming (again) and the car grows silent, Ikeda says, “you didn’t really glue a glass brick to a metal brick, did you?”

Gakushuu glares at him. “That was my phone.”

“Oh,” Ikeda says, vibrating in excitement. “Can I see it again?”

Gakushuu glares, harder. Ikeda stops vibrating.

“Wait,” Gakuhou says. “How would I know if you’re telling the truth?”

“Why would I lie?” Gakushuu says, exasperated. “What, you want some DNA? Scrape it off my forehead.”

Gakuhou frowns at him. Ikeda says, “no offense, but you’re not how I pictured Gakushuu to turn out like.”

Gakushuu blinks slowly at him. “Why?” He drawls.

Ikeda stays silent then. 

Gakushuu’s a little pissed now. How dare he insinuate that Gakushuu is not good enough to be his father’s son. Was he not nice enough? Magnanimous enough? Maybe it was when be broke the arms and phones of six teenagers in a park, or when he made a nurse cry in the hospital parking lot. If Ikeda thought he could do better at being Gakuhou’s son than maybe he shouldn’t have fucking died.

Gakushuu scowls. “I don’t give a fuck about your expectations. I got pushed into a giant hole by my idiots for friends and then saw you.”

“Fuck!” Little Gakushuu echoes happily.

Gakuhou looks scandalized. “Stop that,” he says, but Gakushuu had grown too old to still be terrified of his father, and this version of the elder Asano had nothing over him.

Jin clears his throat a little awkwardly. “Should I drive us home?”

Chapter Text

A handy guide by Gakushuu Asano

Gakushuu’s not stupid, by any means. He knows how to dig shit up (for any nefarious purposes or just out of curiosity), move things (and order people) around, and get stuff done. He’s efficient. 

He’d done his fair share of sneaking around as a kid and Gakushuu would say he’s gotten pretty damn good at it, especially in his house where almost nothing escapes the principal’s attention. Said man is acting increasingly shady and there’s a couple extra million in the bank account where it, if Gakushuu checked the books right, shouldn’t be. And he’s pretty sure he saw the Japanese military going up the hill where the 3-E classroom sits, which, what the fuck?

So yeah, Gakushuu’s going to get to the bottom of this. 

--

Two intensive days of planning and one trip to the supermarket later, Gakushuu’s ready to enact his plan. He has his father’s fucking weird day schedule memorized to the dot and times his appearance just right, dramatically swinging his room door open and crashing into his father just as the man is on his way to his morning jog at 3 fucking am in the goddamn morning.

Gakuhou startles, “what-”

Gakushuu shoves him aside, and stumbles to the bathroom across the hall, and forces himself to dry-heave up yesterday’s dinner. Maybe he should have eaten a little more because vomiting up 10% food and 90% stomach lining is a pretty painful process that has him in genuine pain, but the burn in his chest and throat is almost worth the aghast look on his father’s face.

“You’re a mess,” Gakuhou says.

“Am I hallucinating or is that worry in your voice?” Gakushuu croaks.

That is worry in his voice. Gakuhou abandons his morning run, which is equivalent to a normal parent parading a large billboard sign with their child’s baby pictures and large Microsoft Word Art text screaming “I LOVE MY KID”, in favor of dagging Gakushuu to bed and making sure he downs 7 out of 8 glasses of his recommended daily water intake.

“I’m going to throw up again,” Gakushuu says, and it’s not the vomit-inducing pills this time.

“Don’t you dare,” Gakuhou says.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Gakushuu snarks back. He runs to the bathroom and throws up 100% water, and Gakuhou carries drags him back to bed again. 

“If you come to school today I’ll quarantine you in my office and make you eat medicine from the floor,” Gakuhou says fondly, and ruffles Gakushuu’s hair on the way out. It falls a few affection points short of Gakuhou saying “Gakushuu is the best son ever” into the school loudspeakers, so Gakushuu doesn’t bite his father’s hand off. He waits ten minutes after the car leaves the gates, mentally checks the completion of stage one off his mental plan, and then heads straight for 3-E classroom on the hill behind Kunugigaoka Middle School.

--

It’s still ass-o-clock in the morning, which means perfect time for Gakushuu to sneak around. He heads to the makeshift staff room and finds out that the 3-E teachers are fucking weird. There’s a desk that seems barely lived in and tidied with a military neatness that’s scarily minimalist, and all the drawers with locks are unfortunately utilized. The only thing suspicious is a dossier that’s so heavily redacted Gakushuu has no clue what it’s talking about, but he snaps pictures of it anyways.

The desk across it has a stack of language papers, and what seems to be a small collection of makeup products and a mini vanity mirror. Gakushuu takes a picture of the setup too, feeling a little ridiculous. The drawer is unlocked, so he opens it.

Closes it. Opens it again.

Nope, that’s definitely a gun in there.

What the fuck?

Gakushuu gingerly picks it up and examines it. It’s marked, very clearly indicating property of the Japanese Government, which, what the fuck. He checks the magazine and it’s not actual bullets, thank fucking god, but what seems to be rubber BB gun pellets in lieu of any actual ammo.

Is this 3-E’s big secret? They were playing cops and robbers in class? Why modify an actual pistol to hold BB gun pellets instead of using an actual BB gun? Just to be safe, he keeps a pellet.

The third desk has an alarming array of worksheets that spills onto desks four, five and six, as well as parts of the floor. Gakushuu’s fingers itches to pick it up but he’s not stupid, he can’t disrupt the, ah, organized chaos and leave evidence of his presence. There’s a diabetic range of snacks and sweets on the table and a calendar counting down to their graduation day next year, the birthdays of 3-E students are circled in red pen as with some other unlabelled dates that Gakushuu assumes are personal events, but nothing else of note. 

The real kicker is the photo frame on the desk, which seems to be a class photo of some sorts. Where Gakushuu assumes a teacher would pose, instead stands a giant yellow octopus with a creepy wide set smile on its face, wearing a black gown and a stupid little hat.

What the actual, genuine fuck?

3-E’s secret was they had a teacher… really into cosplay?

Likes to play with very realistic BB-guns? 

“Ah, Karasuma,” says a voice from the corridor as the noises of someone approaching echo ominously, “you’re here early.”

Gakushuu tries not to panic.

“Do you want to try some of my breakfast? I went to get dim-sum from China, french toast from Germany, and-”

The staff room light flicks on. Gakushuu panics.

Cosplay-teacher, standing in the doorway holding too many takeout boxes and looking eerily identical to the photograph in Gakushuu’s hand with too many waving tentacles holding too many takeout boxes, panics as equally panicky as Gakushuu does.

“Stop yelling!” Cosplay-teacher screams.

“You stop yelling!” Gakushuu shrieks.

“Both of us stop yelling!” Cosplay-teacher screams back. “Count of 3! 1! 2!”

“3!” Gakushuu shouts in time, and slaps a hand over his mouth. Glances at the photo again, then at Cosplay-teacher, tentacles still waving weirdly in the air as the ever-present smile remains frozen.

“Uhm,” Gakushuu says, “you are… Koro-sensei?”

“In the flesh,” Koro-sensei says, sounding as nervous as Gakushuu feels. The tentacles wiggle faster. 

Gakushuu tears his eyes away from them. “You’re a giant octopus,” Gakushuu says.

Koro-sensei stares at him for a while, then says, “yes.”

Gakushuu shakes his head. “No, you’re not.” He puts the photo frame down, slowly walks over to what must be Karasuma-sensei’s desk, and then flips the dossier open. It’s still redacted and nonsensical but Koro-sensei seems slightly more on edge, if Gakushuu was reading the nervous tentacle vibrating right.

“Can you please tell me what is going on with class 3-E?” Gakushuu asks politely, because whether he was an actual giant yellow octopus or a really dedicated cosplay lover, he was still a teacher. Sort of?

“I don’t want to reveal any international secrets,” Koro-sensei blabbers, then blanches. As much as someone with a giant yellow head and a singular expression could anyways but Gakushuu feels the sentiment. 

“International secrets?” Gakushuu asks, eyes wide with mock innocence. “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” Then he holds Koro-sensei’s stare for an unnerving amount of time. 

Koro-sensei stares back.

Gakushuu keeps staring. 

Koro-sensei keeps staring back.

Clearly this wasn’t working. Gakushuu needed a new game plan, stat. 

“3-E students are fucking useless,” Gakushuu says.

Koro-sensei doesn’t break eye contact, but his tentacles twitch.

“They’re weak and stupid,” Gakushuu baits, “they haven’t done anything to benefit the world. You’re a horrible teacher. 3-E will never contribute to society. Sugino sucks at baseball. Isogai-”

“3-E’s supposed to assassinate me so I don’t blow up the world!” Koro-sensei says quickly. "They're really good at it! They're smart and great, shut up, I love them!"

Gakushuu waits until Koro-sensei calms down, then says, “explain yourself.”

“I already gave away too much!” Koro-sensei says hysterically.

“I’m sure the Japanese Government and my father would love to hear about you dropping international secrets like this,” Gakushuu blackmails, waving the redacted dossier. “Everything I need to know, and this can stay between us.”

Koro-sensei looks conflicted, or as conflicted as he possibly could look. Why does he have one expression? Can he open his mouth? How was he supposed to eat dim-sum from China? He waves his tentacles and seems to be deliberating for a while, while Gakushuu waits. “I blew up the moon,” Koro-sensei says, “and I’ll blow up the earth too, after teaching class 3-E for one year, unless they can assassinate me by their graduation.”

“That’s fucking stupid,“ Gakushuu says.  

Koro-sensei shrugs with his many tentacles.

Gakushuu glances at his watch. It’s still pretty early but students should start arriving soon, which means he should start taking his leave. “I have to go,” he says, “but I’ll be back to get the rest of the story. Don’t worry, I’ll keep this to myself until then.”

“See you then, Asano junior,” Koro-sensei says. Gakushuu climbs out the window and heads back home, and remains calm up until the point he clambers through his window into bed, and then starts to properly freak out because what the fuck just happened? 

--

There’s a knock on his bedroom door, and Gakushuu peeks his head out from under the covers. His housekeeper, Tamiko opens the door and tilts her head at him. “You’re looking peachy, sleepyhead,” she says, “your father asked me to check up on you.”

“I’m fine,” Gakushuu croaks out. 

“Uh-huh,” Tamiko says, “you must be really sick if you’re still sleeping in. You want breakfast, sweetheart?”

Trying to figure shit out can wait until he’s eaten, Gakushuu supposes. 

Chapter Text

Karma the Cat

“I’ll get cat food!” Koro-sensei proclaims happily, and flies off. He returns a few seconds later with a grocery bag, and then appears by Karma’s side, with an open can of what seems to be premium cat food. “Eat up, kitty!”

Maybe Karma’s just picky, but it looks and smells absolutely disgusting. He makes a face and turns his nose.

“Okay, how about this one?” A new can is presented in front of him. It looks even worse. Karma bats it away.

Koro-sensei’s tentacles droop. “Aw, come on, cat.”

“You just need to coax it a little,” Hara says.

“Maybe we should feed it human food?” Okajima suggests.

Yes! Karma would hug Okajima if he wasn’t, you know, a cat, Actually, on second thought, hugging him as a cat would be better.

“No, that’s unhealthy!” Kurahashi says, “human food doesn’t have the proper nourishment for a cat.”

“But I’m human,” Karma protests.

Koro-sensei presents him with a third can of cat food.

Dammit. Karma hops off Irina’s lap.

“Hey, wait!” Koro-sensei sounds distraught, “I have plenty more brands for you to try!”

“Maybe he’s going to hunt,” Hazama says, “that’s what cats do, after all.”

Hunt, his ass. Karma’s going to get actual food around here. He wanders down the hill and scales the Kunugigaoka Main Campus school fence effortlessly, then wanders the courtyard.

“Hey!” Someone shouts to his left. Karma’s ear twitches. “No animals allowed!”

Kind of a weird rule, isn’t it, Karma thinks. There was a whole forest of nature next to this place. One of their classrooms were built on a goddamn hill.

The teacher kicks Karma, or attempts to kick Karma. “Scram, cat.”

Never let it be said that Karma wasn’t petty. He sinks his claws into the leather of the shoe. The teacher yelps. The following routine would be hilarious as Karma hangs on for dear life and ruins fine leather as one of the teachers yells bloody murder and tries to swing Karma off his foot.

Then, luckily or unluckily, because Karma had gone 3 years never once crossing paths with Asano on the same route to school but now had the coincidence of running into him twice a day, hears a “Yamamoto-sensei!”

“Get this vermin off me!” The teacher, Yamamoto, growls. Karma growls back. 

Karma releases his hold on the shoe and bounds over to Asano. “Give me food.”

"Oh," Asano says. "It's you!"

Karma's a distinctive looking cat. 

“You know this… thing?” Yamamoto makes a face. 

“I saw this cat on the way to school today,” he says. Asano picks Karma up. “Was there a problem, Yamamoto-sensei?”

“This cat tried to bite my leg off!” Yamamoto says. What an exaggeration. Karma hisses at him, and smiles smugly when Yamamoto takes a step back.

Asano inclines his head, still smiling. ”Because you tried to kick it.”

Yamamoto’s face turns red. “I, I-” he splutters.

“We’re built next to a patch of forest, Yamamoto-sensei,” Asano says coldly, and Karma’s impressed at the terrifying aura he exudes while smiling mildly, “animals get in sometimes, that’s inevitable. I’m pretty sure this cat would have just left you alone if you didn’t try to provoke it in the first place, yes?”

Karma would stick his tongue out if he could. Wait, he can, he’s a cat, not a tongueless creature.

Karma sticks his tongue out. Asano looks amused for a split second before his face settles back into the eerie calm, and Yamamoto frowns a little disconcertingly. 

“See you around, sensei,” Asano says. He pats Karma’s head twice and walks off. Karma grins at Yamamoto’s red face. So unfair how Asano can threaten teachers and get away with it. Being the principal’s son sure has its perks.

“You’re okay, kitty? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Asano says. He sets Karma down and crouches, and starts patting him. Karma lets him, because he’s awesome like that. 

“What do you think I am, weak?” Karma snorts.

“Feisty,” Asano says, “okay boy. What are you doing here? Something about Kunugigaoka that catches your fancy?”

“My classmates tried to feed me cat food,” Karma says. 

“Aww,” Asano says, clearly not speaking cat. 

Karma rolls his eyes. He lifts a paw and gestures to where he thinks his stomach is, and opens his mouth.

“Does your paw hurt?” Asano sounds concerned. He reaches a hand out. Karma bats it away.

Karma glares. “Food, idiot.” He headbutts Asano in the stomach. 

“Aww,” Asano says, again. He starts patting Karma.

“I hate you,” Karma proclaims. He chomps down on Asano’s finger.

“Ow!” Asano pulls away, looking betrayed. “Why did you do that?” 

Karma narrows his eyes. Opens his mouth, closes it, and mimes chewing on something. 

“Wait, you’re hungry,” Asano’s eyes widen, “you tried to tell me, holy shit.”

Finally.

“Food,” Karma says.

Asano’s still regarding him warily. “Can I pick you up?”

“Knock yourself out,” Karma says. “If it means I don’t have to walk.” He hops into Asano’s arms. 

Asano stands up. “This is fucking weird,” Asano mutters to himself. He carries Karma outside, says “wait here,” and disappears for five minutes to reemerge with his bag. Asano sits cross-legged on the floor with his bento and starts tearing apart bits of his katsudon. Asano holds out a piece with his fingers. Karma sniffs it, decides it is infinite times better than whatever Koro-sensei tried to feed him, and takes it off Asano’s fingers. Without biting it, because Karma’s super nice as a cat.

“You know,” Asano says, breaking the silence, “I got kicked out of class today.”

That certainly explains why Asano was roaming in the halls when everyone else was in class, Karma thinks. But it had worked in his favor so he wasn’t going to question it. But now that Asano brought up the topic, it certainly piqued Karma’s curiosity. “Why?” 

“The principal is letting me take days off at school to self-study,” Asano mutters, stabbing a fork into his bento. “Which means he’s going to fuck 3-A up.”

Karma regards that for a moment. Yeah, he agrees, the principal was messed up. “He’s such a dick,” Asano continues. He feeds Karma another bite of the katsudon. “He’s smart but he’s a shitty teacher.”

Karma wouldn’t know, but he can’t imagine being taught by the older Asano. 

“I mean, he’s just,” Asano says, “he thinks he can run the world and shape it to his stupid ideals with some totalitarian schooling system using fear as the main motivator.”

Dammit. Karma came down for food, not for Asano’s sob backstory. “Feed me and stop talking,” Karma says.

“Sorry, you’re probably starving,” Asano says. He cuts a bit of fish for Karma too. "I just can't stand him, you know."

Yeah, the Asano's aren’t exactly the best role models for healthy family dynamics. Karma would shrug if he could. He does try. It doesn’t work. 

“I wish,” Asano says. Pauses, shuts his mouth with an audible click.

“Asano?” Karma says. He bats at his hand. 

Asano bites his lip. Then, to Karma’s hysterical horror, he starts crying. 

“Oh no,” Karma yowls, “stop! Stop!”

Asano sets the bento aside and starts rubbing at his eyes.

“Stop crying!” Karma shrieks. “I can’t deal with this!”

If anything, Asano sobs harder.  

“Oh my god,” Karma says. He can’t believe he’s about to do this. He nudges Asano’s food out of the way, making sure nothing spills (because he'd still like to eat it and he's not going to eat it off the floor! Karma has standards, okay?), hops into his lap and then musters what must be some built-in animal instinct and starts purring.

“Oh,” Asano makes a small noise. He wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Thanks.”

Karma huffs a little. He might be blushing if he wasn't a cat, especially given he'd just crawled onto Asano's lap on his own accord. Maybe he is blushing and his fur is just hiding it. Can cats blush? “Sorry your dad sucks,” he says.

Asano sniffles. “You’re not just a cat, are you,” he says.

“Damn right I’m not,” Karma says. 

“No, I mean,” Asano straightens up. He gently pushes Karma off him, and digs in his bag to pull out a notepad and a pen. “You’re not just a cat.”

Karma stares, wide-eyed.

“Sure, cats can be intelligent and intuitive,” Asano says, face still splotchy but now looking very determined, “but this is way too creepy.” He stares at the bento and yea, okay, seems like Karma has placed the chopsticks on top it’s holder and covered the bento with it’s lid, but in his defense... well, food. Spill. Eat. What?

Asano places the notepad and pen in front of Karma. Karma blinks, unimpressed. Sits back on his haunches and holds up his two front paws.

‘This behavior is exactly what I’m talking about,” Asano snaps his fingers. “And the way you tried to tell me you were hungry. Okay, uh, how about you bite the pen?”

Karma tries. It fails.

“Can you type?” Asano pulls out his phone.

Karma slaps a paw fruitlessly at the screen.

“Okay, how about this,” Asano says, “lift left paw for no, right for yes. Are you human?”

Karma lifts his right paw.

“Woah,” Asano says, “control question. Are you not human?”

Karma narrows his eyes, and raises his left paw.

“This is so weird,” Asano mutters. “Okay, do I know you in real life?” 

Karma puts his left paw down and raises his right paw.

“Are you in this school?”

Right. Yes.

“In 3-A?”

Left. No.

“Okay, yeah, attendance was full today, don’t know why I asked. You’re in my year, right?”

Right. Yes.

“3-B?” Asano asks.

Karma shakes his head, and raises his left paw. No.

“Okay, 3-E,” Asano guesses. 

Karma raises his right paw. Yes.

“I should’ve guessed that first,” Asano shakes his head, “weird stuff is happening there. Who are you?”

“Karma Akabane,” Karma says. 

“Whatever,” Asano sighs. “I’ll find out. Is that where you went just now?”

Karma nods, and raises his right paw.

“And I’m guessing since you came to find me, no one figured out you were their missing classmate,” Asano thinks. Then his eyes widen comically. “Oh my god, you’re Karma Akabane. You skip school so much they probably didn't consider it an anomaly.”

“Wow, you’re actually pretty smart,” Karma says. He raises a right paw.

“Oh my god,” Asano repeats. He looks appalled for a few moments, then suddenly makes a betrayed sounding noise and says, “you ate my lunch.”

Seriously? Karma doesn’t break eye contact as he stalks over to Asano’s bento, flips the lid off the box, and faceplants into his rice.

Asano makes another affronted noise. “Gross! You’re a cat!”

“What, so it won’t be gross if I was a human?” Karma says. 

Asano swats Karma away, and Karma swipes at his hand with claws, because he’s not THAT nice. Asano packs up his food and says, “I’m going to pick you up and you’re going to be good about it, or you’re walking the entire way.”

Karma huffs. It’s not like he tried to claw him the previous times Asano picked him up anyhow.

Asano seems a little awkward at how to handle Karma the cat now with the knowledge that the cat is, in fact, Karma Akabane. But he seems to just shrug and hold him like a normal cat.

Because fate was both on and against him, they run into 3-E on the school grounds.

“Guys, that’s the cat from just now!” Fuwa says. 

“Oh, it is!” Isogai speaks up. “Asano, you found it?”

“I found him, yes,” Asano says. “Do you know who this is?”

There’s a pause. “Uh, a cat?” Nakamura says, sounding suspicious.

“Hmm,” Asano says, “I suppose this does look like a cat.”

The puzzled face of his friends are hilarious. Karma presses a paw to Asano’s cheek.

“Uh, it looks like a cat because it is a cat,” Terasaka says slowly, “are you stupid?”

“Did you feed it?” Kurahashi asks, “we tried to feed it cat food but it ran away.”

“Cat food?” Asano sounds delighted. “No, he’s a starving cat. You should try to feed it again.”

Karma narrows his eyes. He flexes and pinches Asano’s face with his claws. Asano, the asshole, just laughs. 

“I think he’d gone nuts,” Yoshida says in a mock whisper.

“Hey, Shiota,” Asano says. He pulls Karma’s paw off his bleeding cheek and passes Karma off to Nagisa. 

Nagisa holds Karma slightly awkwardly. “Uh, why did you give me the cat?”

Asano shrugs, then suddenly it’s like a switch flipped and he straightens up. “I have a favor to ask of class 3-E,” Asano says, voice and face serious. Karma doesn’t have time to appreciate the sudden change in demeanor from Bitch-sensei to Karasuma-sensei in a third of a second when Asano says, “I need you to assassinate my father.”

“What?!” Karma shares his classmates sentiments. What? Did he accidentally give something away? He was a cat, for god’s sake!

Asano launches into a bitter and aggressive monologue, and everything starts to make sense. But Karma keeps remembering the picture of Asano crying his eyes out. He starts digging his claws into Nagisa’s arms without realizing it, until Nagisa yelps. “I think he doesn’t like me very much,” Nagisa winces, “I think you should hold him, Asano.”

“Oh no,” Asano shakes his head. 

“Absolutely not,” Karma agrees.

“He definitely wants you to take him,” Nagisa says, “I’m not good with cats.”

Asano seems rather amused. Karma hisses at him, and Asano flicks his finger at Karma’s forehead. 

“I don’t think the cat likes Asano very much either,” Yada says.

Karma tries to bite down on Asano’s finger. Asano scowls at him, but takes him from Nagisa, and holds him out at arm’s length when Karma kicks.

“Maybe I should take him,” Kurahashi offers.

Karma thinks, then decides he’d rather he held by Asano. Contrary to popular belief, he’s not good with girls at all. Karma stills, and taps Gakushuu’s hand twice, and shakes his head. Gakushuu looks more amused at that. “I’m flattered,” he says, and tucks Karma in the crook of his arm.

“Did the cat just shake it’s head?” Nakamura demands. 

“It did,” Asano says, but doesn’t elaborate further, which infuriates Nakamura and makes the class even more confused. “So,” Asano says, “what are your thoughts on my proposal?”

“I’ll kick your ass,” Karma says. ”I’m going to take that top spot from you, just you wait.”

“Is that a yes?” Asano asks.

Karma lazily lifts his right paw.

“Holy shit, he’s a cat whisperer,” Sugaya says in awe.

Karma would flip them the bird if he could. He does lift up the back of his paw towards them and flexes his middle claw, and Asano seems to understand enough to say, “the cat says fuck you.”

Karma nods.

“The cat nodded again!” Nakamura points an accusing finger. “What is this!? Did you send that cat to spy on us just now?”

“This cat is Karma Akabane,” Asano tells them.

There’s a long silence.

“What the fuck?!” Nakamura rages, and then the class erupts into angry protests. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard!”

Neither Karasuma-sensei nor Koro-sensei had once succeeded but somehow Asano does, the metaphorical switch flips and suddenly he glares at everyone and everyone, miraculously, shuts up. Kataoka takes an involuntary step back, and bumps into Isogai.

Asano relaxes, and bounces Karma to his other arm. “Akabane,” he says, “do something stupid.”

“I’m a genius,” Karma says.

Asano huffs. “Come on.”

Karma sticks his tongue out.

“Cats do that,” Nakamura says, voice softer but still sounding as pissed. 

Asano frowns. “Why would I lie? What would I gain from this? This cat is Karma Akabane, your classmate.”

“People don’t just turn into cats,” Terasaka says. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that this cat is Akabane,” Asano says. “Shiota, you’re his best friend.” He holds Karma out again.

If someone passes Karma around like a party favor one more time, he’s going to lose it. Nagisa gingerly takes Karma from Asano again.

“Uh, Karma? Are you really a cat?” Nagisa asks.

“Yep,” says Karma. He raises a right paw.

“Are you sure this is really Karma?” Kayano says. 

“You can believe me or not,” Asano shrugs, “I found him on the way to school as a cat, and he made me bring him to Kunugigaoka. He disappeared for a bit which is when I assumed he went to look for your class, then came back and ate half my lunch.”

“Oh my god, we tried to feed him cat food,” Nagisa says in horror. 

“It was awful,” Karma complains.

“Oh well, have fun with the cat,” Asano says. He buries his hands in his pockets. “See you. Think about my proposal.” He walks off like some mysterious character in a manga. Karma huffs. 

“I think we should call Karasuma-sensei,” Isogai says. 

“Already on it,” Katoka says. She pulls out her phone. The class heads back up to 3-E, everyone peppering Karma with questions and Karma being unable to answer because he’s, well, a cat.  

Karma hops off Nagisa’s arms the moment they arrive at class, and jumps into his seat.

“This is so messed up,” Hayami says.

“Akabane,” says Karasuma-sensei. He stares at Karma. “You are him?”

“Yep,” says Karma. He raises his right paw. 

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Karasuma-sensei rubs the bridge of his nose. 

Koro-sensei and Bitch-sensei appear at the door together. Koro-sensei immediately phases next to Karma, cooing. “So cute! Karma, is it really you?”

Karma blinks impassively. How many more people are going to ask him that?

“How do we turn him back into a human?” Kayano asks.

“I’m pretty sure Asano was still fucking with us,” Nakamura says.

“I know,” Koro-sensei says. He scribbles a whole list of things on the board. “If this cat is really Karma, he would be able to answer these questions!”

Karma blinks at the blackboard. The first question asks about the correct written kanji of his name, the second on his address, and the third about his phone number. There were 5 options for each question. 

“Question one, Karma! What’s the answer?”

“Three,” Karma says. Then makes a face because it comes out as a meow. He says three twice more.

Koro-sensei’s head turns orange. “Correct! What’s the next!”

“Four, four, four, four!” Karma says. 

“Double correct! Final question!” Koro-sensei flails his tentacles excitedly.

“One,” Karma says. 

“I’m just impressed a cat can read,” Terasaka says. 

“That’s not just a cat,” Itona says. “That’s Karma.”

“What do we do now?” Sugino asks. 

“I have absolutely no idea,” Koro-sensei proclaims. The class gives him dirty looks.

Chapter Text

Something is wrong.

(Asano is- Karma knows him, Asano, knows the boy is definitely insane ; the smile he has on his face right now is cocaine-high bordering on mental patient. Terasaka bristles like a wet cat when Asano steps into his space, Karma barely blinks and the larger boy is face-flat on the dirt and Asano is emptying the contents of his bag onto the ground.

Positively off the rails, Karma thinks, but-

“Wait!” Isogai yells, arm outstretched and a look of dawning horror on his face and Karma remembers that they’re harboring an international secret, and he turns around but he’s not too sure what he plans to do, not when Asano giggles maniacally and cocks the pistol he’s grabbed from amongst Terasaka’s belongings, and Karma freezes.

“You all are so scared ,” Asano says, “don’t worry, they’re not real bullets. I know, I know.”

3-E exchanges panicked glances amongst each other, Terasaka clambers off the floor with a hurt look on his face and a sprained wrist, Karma sees the glint in Asano’s eyes and he knows what it means and he opens his mouth to shout anything, anything,  

but the resounding gunshot that follows drowns out his words, and Asano-)

Asano is, psycho , for the lack of a better word. He’s “absolutely lost it” as quoted by harried students in the hallway that they pass and Karma wonders what he’d missed in his suspension. Isogai looks haunted when approached about it, rubs his wrist as if reminiscent of another hand gripping it hard enough to bruise; Katoka winces, visibly, and Karma knows it's bad. 

It starts off mere curiosity, they had been classmates for a year and a half (and a bit more) and they’ve clashed head to head academically and otherwise, Karma’s curious. He keeps an eye out for a blonde shock of hair from across the hall but the line of students in 3-A counts odd, and he cranes his ears for whispering.

“We haven’t seen him around,” Nagisa tells him, but his brows are furrowed, “we don’t come down to main campus often. But rumors have been spreading that he’s, uh, gone nuts.” And Karma was positively sure that boy had been insane the first time they made eye contact, had just been a matter of time before everyone else caught on too, but-

A horrific screech from audio feedback and the students clap their hands over their ears, then a thud and a yelp and then Asano is there, grinning as he wrenches the microphone away from the announcer. In the audience, in the seats, the principal gets up with a frantic look on his face.

He’s… psycho, Karma thinks again, finally understanding what his cohort means. Asano looks like a man who has lost his mind; he’s still dressed impeccably as accordance to conduct code but the look in his eyes is something that chills Karma to the bone. His hair is uncombed and his bangs fall messily in front of his eyes, and Asano says into the microphone, “Hi everyone!”

Nobody says a word, nobody expects anyone to, Karma’s jaw drops and it might have become unhinged but Asano was , and then of course the day gets worse, and Asano says, “hi 3-E! Haven’t seen you in a while!”

Then the microphone gets snatched out of his hand by their principal, who looks irate and on the verge of actual tears. Standing side-by-side it’s ever more apparent they’re father and son, but Asano is giggling uncontrollably into his palm and the principal says a few soft words to him as he hands the microphone back to the ruffled announcer, then leads his son away by the hand.

That’s when it starts, Karma thinks, but he doesn’t want to call it an obsession . He just pays closer attention, sort of, a puzzle and he itches to solve this one. It’s, intriguing, to say the least, he doesn’t see much of Asano around and the council president band is donned by Sakakibara with a pained expression, and the seat he used to occupy in the 3-A classroom is empty. Hallways buzz; they’re but tasteless rumors and Karma knows nothing more than he did.

3-E doesn’t go down to main campus and it’s for the best, really, but trouble has a way of finding them and today it takes place in the form of Asano dropping down from the trees with a “boo!” And nearest to Asano’s surprise entrance, Muramatsu, fumbles with and drops his gun. Next to him, Sugino snatches it out of the air and flings it into the trees.

Asano seems unphased. “You guys seem to be having fun,” he says, flits through the targets and obstacle courses set up with scary nonchalance. Karasuma steps forward and reaches an arm out, tugs him gently away. “Carry on,” Karasuma instructs, then takes the path down to main campus with Asano humming softly at his heels, and none of them do.

They run into him more often than not, of course they run into him. Asano pops in and out of their classes and seems largely curious but unaffected by their activities.

(“It doesn’t matter even if he doesn’t know what’s going on,” they hear Karasuma speak angrily to the principal as Asano leans against Isogai’s leg and draws circles in the sand and the class stays quiet, “this is still highly classified-”

“I know that,” the principal stresses, “I-”

Then their voices hush, and then they raise again, and they hear the tail-end of Karasuma’s “-he’s insane !” and the voice of their principal crack as he says, “I know, but I don’t know why.”)

But that’s not all there is to it, Karma notices, no, he suspects.  

Because as Isogai runs his fingers through Asano’s hair and the boy leans into the contact, when everyone is staring enraptured at the closed door and straining to listen to the argument between their teachers, Karma looks back and he catches just a tiny glimpse (a flicker) of sharpness in Asano’s eyes that belongs not to a crazy person. He’s, Karma realizes then, attentive. Listening.

Waiting. For something to happen.

Karma baits, “shouldn’t you be at class, mr ex-student council president? Are you insane ?” He knows it won’t work, not with the pressure with the entire school and his father and he knows he won’t be the one to crack Asano’s shell, the facade he has got going on, and Karma just knows there is one. 

Asano is psycho. 

But he’s not.

“Karma,” Katoka hisses, in warning, even Nagisa looks to him with disapproval, and Asano blinks up at him with wide eyes and Karma narrows his. Nothing happens, he gets a warning from Isogai and Asano absently doodles circles as he sits next to Karma at the back of the classroom, but perfect circles are not the drawings of someone who have lost their mind.

Psycho doesn’t even begin to cover it, but obsession does, perhaps, through rose tinted lenses. They don’t do any assassination with him in the classroom; that’s a good 50% of their opportunities lost, Asano just sitting in the back and mindlessly doing his own thing but it’s now no longer a suspicion; sometimes Karma wonders if he’d imagined it, if his mind was so desperate to understand what had happened to Asano overnight that he spun up a tale and told himself that there was more than there is to be.

But people like Asano don’t just go insane . He had been insane from the beginning but snapping wasn’t just like that (like that). There was

something

wrong.

“I know,” Karma hisses to him, he grips Asano’s wrist too hard and he thinks of Isogai and wonders if it will bruise. Asano blinks at him for a moment, that infuriating blank look in his eyes, but there it was

that flicker of something,

and

Asano tilts his head and smiles a small smile and Karma knows he’s crazy but not crazy; Asano says the most chilling sentence he has ever and Karma knows he was sound of mind when he does (because he was never crazy)

“do you, now,"

And Karma knows, knows , despite the lack of context and how unbelievable it would be, in any situation, Karma knows that-

“He’s not crazy,” Karma insists again, “he’s… pretending,” and even it sounds weak in his own head, worse in his voice.

“Karma,” Nagisa says, “I want to believe you. But why?"

Karma drags them outside and pulls Asano up and down twists and turns, until they’re perched on tree roots under shade of the canopy somewhere to the north of the classroom. Karma settles down on a sturdy root and watches as Asano curls up in a nook and closes his eyes. 

“I know you’re not crazy,” Karma says, he wills his voice to stay steady, “I know you’re not.” Nagisa’s voice echoes in his head, as do the many unanswered questions, and Karma asks, “why are you doing this?”

The answer he gets is not silence but Karma suddenly wishes it was because it was a landslide from here, (he wishes he could turn back time but time doesn’t work that way, it doesn’t, it doesn’t, ) months and months of searching for the truth and chipping off bits of Asano’s pretend play and weaving his own version of the truth and he hysterically wishes he never tried to break it down in the first place

“It’s gets boring otherwise,”

“H-huh? W-what?” Karma gapes, it’s the clearest sentence Asano has ever said to him . 

“It’s so boring,” Asano giggles to himself,

“after a few runs you just want to see what happens, you know? How many times can you roll a dice? How many times over do you live your life, Karma Akabane?”

“I don’t understand,” Karma begs.

“Do you hear that?” Asano says, eyes wide, “we never die. We don’t die, if the world ends we live, on, forever. It’s a punishment. They won’t let me die, I’ve tried to, I’ve-”

“I miss you,” Asano blurts, a hand reaching out to tug at Karma’s shoulder and Karma doesn't know why but he lets it; perhaps it’s because that’s the most normal reaction Asano has had despite the strangeness of it. There’s no context but there hasn’t been for months and months on end and Karma lets it happen. 

Asano’s arms are tight around his torso, hugging Karma so tightly like it'd all disappear if he lets go. 

“Don’t forget me,” Asano blurts, tears running down his cheeks, “don’t forget, please-”

“I won’t.”

“ You always break your promises-”

“ I WON’ T-”

“What-”

“What’s going-”

Karma rolls.out of bed and lands on a floor with a solid thud. He grabs his phone off the nightstand with shaky hands and stares at the date and time and again, and his head swims-

-wait-

-and with trembling fingers he dials a number-

ring, ring

ring, ring

“A-asano?” Karma says, he barely has the first syllable out and on the other end of the line Asano screams. Karma drops the phone and slaps the speaker button and says, “what’s happening, what’s happening-”

“You remember,” Asano is sobbing, “why, why this time why-”

“What’s happening ?!” Karma screams louder. He’s crying. “I’m so scared, I don’t understand-”

Asano says, suddenly still and chilling, “we don’t die. I’m so sorry.”

(The last thing Karma remembers, fighting for his life on the hill behind Kunugigaoka High School where the 3-E classroom sits. He’s screaming, Kayano is bleeding out on the grass and Koro-sensei and Reaper are battling and the world turns red and he remembers they don’t win.)

“Next year,” Asano’s voice is quiet over the phone, and Karma curls up against the floor to hear him speak, “one night before our graduation, the world ends. The world will end and every time it does, I wake up here, at this time, one year before it does.”

Karma inhales sharply.

“It’s,” Asano tells him, “beautiful. The most gorgeous sunset you’ll ever see.”

“Oh,” Karma says.

“I’m so sorry,” Asano says, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats it like a mantra, “Akabane I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“Akabane?” Says the principal in confusion, opening the door.

Karma looks over his shoulder and frowns and pushes past him, “where’s Asano?” 

“Akabane,” the principal says again. 

“Where is he?” Karma stresses. He pushes past and sprints up the stairs twice at a time, kicks down doors along the hallways with a “what the fuck are you doing ” chasing his ears, slams his hands down on a doorknob and stumbles into Asano’s bedroom where he’s sitting on the bed with his hands in his head and sobbing quietly, phone by his legs and call still running.

Karma ends the call. “Asano!” He shouts, “tell me this is a joke, tell me this is a joke-

What the fuck is going on?!”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Asano chants, tears flowing and hands crushed over his eyes, his father at the doorway as Karma kneels in front of him and cradles his head and begs for an answer, anything, anything-

“I’m in a time loop. Our third year of school starts tomorrow; one year from now the world will end, and then immediately after I wake up back here. I’ve tried my best to find out why, I’ve tried to stop it, I’ve tried to escape it but I can’t, I can’t, I don’t know why you’re here, I’m sorry you’re here, you don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve to remember.”

“How many times?” Karma asks quietly, running his fingers through Asano’s hair.

Asano is quiet, then, “six. What do you remember?” 

“You were,” Karma said, “insane. You went crazy. You hung around 3-E a lot and you made me promise not to forget.”

“That,” Asano laughs wetly, “was the last iteration. It’s not the first time you’ve promised me that. You should have broken it again.”

He’s still on suspension. He doesn’t know how Asano explains his gatecrashing to the principal, but his suspension isn’t extended and it’s not brought up again. He thinks of 3-E, thinks of Nagisa and Koro-sensei, watches the morning news hoping that something would change,

and when Karasuma-sensei knocks at his door and demands secrecy, Karma knows that Asano is right.

But why?

This time round, Karma finds out, the role Asano plays is not different from what he would expect, the same boy seemingly unchanged from the normal order of how things should have gone; cocky, spoiled, mockingly sneering down at 3-E and self-assured in his own game, not crazy,

except he is. Karma knows, watches, he doesn’t know what to expect and Asano doesn’t slip up from his perspective even though he’s the only one that knows to look for something, turns the rubber knife over in his pant pocket and feels his heart beat

thump

thump

and Asano’s gaze sweeps over his like he’s nothing. 

“It’s,” Asano says, “so hard. To keep pretending you care, about your grades and your school life, when you know that the world is going to end and you can’t stop it.” Asano is surprisingly talkative, introspective about things. “When I acted, ah, insane, it’s like a mental break for me. I behave however I want. And there are no repercussions from it, one blink and everything gets reset back to normal, flipped over like an hourglass.”

“I can’t go to sleep,” Asano says, “I can’t close my eyes, I keep wondering where I’ll be, when I’ll be, if I open them again. It’s so tiring. I’m so tired.”

“Have you ever seen the world end, Karma Akabane?” Asano whispers to him in the dead of the night, the two of them sprawled spread-eagle on the top of a hill, watching stars blink. “It’s beautiful.”

The thing is, the thing is , Karma knows how, why the world ends. He knows why and Asano doesn’t, and he can’t help but think that Asano might kill him about it, (he knows it’s not his fault, it’s not his fault that he’s in 3-E and he knows and Asano doesn’t, and has to try to fight to save the world six times even if he doesn't know what he’s fighting); had it been him Karma would have been pissed to high heaven (hell). 

He knows why, and when he brings it up (finally) Asano laughs. Laughs and laughs and laughs

and laughs

and laughs, and then cries, 

and cries, and cries,

and cries.

“I’m sorry,” Karma whispers. “You could never have known. You could never have saved the world, I’m sorry you never knew that and I’m sorry you still had to try.”

“I’m sorry,” Asano says. He doesn’t say why, he doesn’t bring it up again, but one week later he kicks Terasaka to the ground and snatches a pistol from his bag, and Karma has a hand outstretched and a pounding in his ears and a scream that almost tears his throat apart when Asano pulls the trigger on himself and hits the ground solidly.

r ing, ring

ring, ring

Karma is still crying, had been crying when the world ended, still crying when he wakes up one year before it does. Grabs his phone off the nightstand and presses it to his ear, hot tears stinging at his eyes and his hands scrunching up the sheets.

“Hello?”

“You asshole !” Karma screams, “ you fucking asshole! ” He yells until his throat is hoarse and Asano stays quiet on the line, and when Karma stops yelling he hears that Asano is crying, and he bunches his sheets up on his hands and sobs. “You shot yourself! You left me alone! You killed yourself! What if you never made it? What if you didn’t wake up?!”

“I knew I would,” Asano tells him, “I always did.”

“Oh,” Karma says, “oh.”

“Let me in,” Karma says, 1 am on the day before school starts on the Asano’s doorsteps, as the principal gapes at him. 

“I don’t,” starts the principal.

“Father,” says Asano, coming up from behind them with a tired expression, running his hands up and down his arms. “Let him in.” He pulls Karma around the principal, his father , and all the way up to his room, and Karma remembers this scene. Deja Vu .

“Three for you,” Asano says, “Eight for me.”

“This is messed up,” says Karma. 

“Yeah,” says Asano.

This time around Asano plays aloof, cold, not unlike the previous run, but one major thing does change; Karma keeps his grip firm on Asano's whereabouts and refuses to let him out of his sight.

“I’m making sure you don’t do anything so fucking stupid again,” Karma snarls at him, hand gripped around his wrist hard enough to bruise, “how dare you.”

“It wouldn’t have been permanent,” Asano says.

“ That’s not the point ,” Karma says, “and if we want a shot at saving the world, we need to work together.”

“I’ve tried,” Asano argues, “so many times. What makes you think that-”

“Because,” Karma tells him, “now you know the secret of 3-E. And you have me on your side.”

Asano, who had impeccable aim from his sporting events, takes to using a pistol pretty well. “This reminds me of iteration four,” Asano muses, cocking the gun. 

“What happened?” Karma says.

“I found a gun,” Asano tells him, “but it had the anti-sensei bullets in, so I thought they were BB pellets and 3-E just played a lot of games in their downtime. Never would have guessed this.”

He fires three shots in quick succession, Karma doesn’t have to look at the target to know he’s hit the bullseye thrice. 

“Oh shut up,” Asano says, elbowing past Karma’s flabbergasted classmates with a glock, “hey . ”

“Hi ,” Karma grins, all teeth, and Karasuma and Irina are in too much shock to say anything, not that it would do any good at this juncture, with Koro-sensei and Reaper battling to the death and a whole death-ray aimed down at the school. “Glad to see you all in one piece.”

“My father’s going to have an aneurysm,” Asano mutters.

r ing, ring

ring, ring

“A-asano,” Karma gasps, “you’re okay.”

“That,” Asano said, “hurt.”

“I’m best friends with your son,” Karma goes right off the bat the moment the principal opens the door, “I’m here to wish him a good council president run.”

He doesn’t think he’ll get tired of the expression on the older Asano’s face. The younger Asano, infinitely less amused, pats the principal on the back in a there, there motion and drags Karma up.

Karma pushes Asano on the bed and lifts his shirt ; he presses both palms flat onto Asano’s stomach and feels that it’s there .

“I’m not dead,” Asano whispers, “I’m here.”

“He impaled you through the stomach,” Karma whispers, “you and Kayano, and I couldn’t do anything-”

Asano smiles at him.

“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong,” Karma says, “Koro-sensei and Reaper both reached their energy limits and blew up. That wouldn’t have happened if they weren’t fighting.”

“We can’t stop them from fighting,” Asano says, hands folded across his stomach as he lies next to Karma on the grass in his backyard, squinting up against the sunlight through the leaves of the tree. “What do you suggest?”

“We need to stop Reaper,” Karma says, “but I don’t know if that’s the right course of action.”

“If we fail,” Asano yawns, “we can always try again.” Karma slaps him, just for that.

“Remember, when I give the cue, shoot Shiro in the face.”

“Is the ammo even real?”

“No, but they’ll probably give him a nasty sting. Now remember-”

“Why the fuck didn’t you get real bullets?”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to find real bullets? Steal them off my teacher’s belt? You managed to kill yourself with one of these, it’d work fine.” 

“BB-gun pellets or no, if I hold a gun at point blank against my forehead, I’m going to die. We’re talking about a rubber bullet from a hundred metres away. You’ll just give him a bruise, at best a concussion.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Real knives are easier to get than real bullets.”

“...you’re psycho .”

r ing, ring

ring, ring

“So,” Karma starts, “that didn’t work as planned.”

He can imagine Asano running a tired hand over his face. “Thanks, genius."

"I’m coming over to give your dad a heart attack, it’s funny.”

“This time,” Karma says, “when Reaper kidnaps- or, well, pretends to kidnap Bitch-sensei, we kill him.”

“I didn’t know there was a ‘we’ in this situation,” Asano says.

“”Hear me out,” Karma says, “you’re the one who gets kidnapped.”

“I don’t see how that’s any better,” Asano says, “and Jelavic wasn’t really kidnapped, you idiot. How do you want to pull this off?”

“You don’t sound too opposed to the idea,” Karma quips.

“Well, even if we fail and I die, again ,” Asano starts, and Karma kicks him.

“Asano!” Karma scrabbles to his side, “Asano! Don’t die on me again.”

Asano’s eyelids flutter open, then his face contorts in pain. “Did I get him?”

“Did you get him?” Karma says hysterically, “did you get him with the knife that’s currently in your kidney?!”

“Ah, fuck, that’s what it is,” Asano sighs, “hurts like a bitch. At least impalement was an instant death-”

“Shut up!” Karma yells.

“It’s kind of funny,” Asano tells him later, swaddled in hospital sheets as Karma curls up in the chair by his bedside, shortly after Asano signs too many on-disclosure forms and has to pretend to be shocked by the revelation of the secret of 3-E.

“No, it wasn’t,” Karma says.

r ing, ring

ring, ring

“Why?” Karma says, “why can’t we just do everything right?”

“This is my tenth anniversary,” Asano tells him. “Happy fifth, by the way.”

“That’s fucking morbid,” Karma sniffles into his blankets.

“Looks like it’s starting,” Asano sighs, “tell you what. This time, we don’t try to save the world.”

“Are you fucking kidding?! ” Karma protests, “how many more times must we go through this? There has to be a way-”

“I know, Akabane,” Asano tells him gently, “but remember your first run, why I acted the way I did? This opportunity isn’t going to disappear; if we fail, we just end up back here. But aren’t you tired?”

“Exhausted,” Karma admits.

“Then,” Asano tells him, “for one year. Let go, for a bit. It’s going to take its toll, it took me the hard way to figure that out.”

“That’s why you’re so chill about everything,” Karma sighs, “okay, what’s your plan?”

“The fun part is,” Asano says, and there’s actually a mischievous lilt in his voice, “you don’t need one.”

Karma finds out, very reluctantly, that Asano is right. He spends too long feeling guilty for trying to take advantage and have fun but, but, he slowly sees it, why Asano chose to do what he did. How many iterations had he run through before he broke down? 

Karma lets himself enjoy things, like he’s a time traveler in a sit-com. He pretends to “slip-up” and calls Kayano Yukimura once and never mentions it again, and now she smiles at him razor-sharp with a wariness around her eyes that Karma delights at. On their island trip they won from 3-A during mid-terms he smashes the pitcher of drinks and pretends it was an accident, gets yelled at, and then praised for helping them dodge a bullet with the whole poisoning debacle as 3-E storms the fortress anyways, all whilst grinning at Kayano who doesn’t stop staring. Asano, dramatic bitch that he is, asks 3-E to assassinate the principal’s ideals and Karma sees the twinkle in his eye at the deliberate word-choice.

“Thanks,” Karma says.

“Hm,” says Asano. 

“It’s tomorrow,” Karma says, “see you on the other side.”

r ing, ring

ring, ring

“I think,” Karma starts, “we need more help.”

“Kayano Kaede,” Asano says immediately, “and Itona Horibe.”

Karma feels a grin tug at his lips. “They need to keep their tentacles.”

“You’ll help me kill Koro-sensei,” Kayano says. Her face is carefully blank, Karma’s wrists pinned to the floor with her tentacles as she holds him at knifepoint.

Karma almost winces, he remembers how twisted she had been, the animosity. But she still hates him with a passion, now, and it’s far too early to change her mind. “It’s what needs to be done,” Karma says, and the grin she gives him is all teeth.

The smile she gives Asano is different, malicious and mean and teasing , as he works out the knots in her back and shoulders with his hands and Karma leans against a wall and watches them banter. It’s not quite jealousy , yet.

But Itona takes too much of a liking to Asano, who whispers something and smiles and then he has Itona by his feet, gazing up with a quiet sigh and the most awestruck expression Karma had ever seen on Itona. 

“You lied to me,” Kayano says, breathlessly, “you never wanted to kill Koro-sensei at all.”

“Sorry,” says Karma, not feeling sorry.

“Well,” Kayano cracks her fingers, “looks like the truth has come to light today. Fine by me.”

“Karma?” Nagisa runs up to both of them, “you knew all along?”

“Won’t tell me how,” Kayano says, eyes blazing. 

“Was wondering when you’d join the party,” Kayano drawls, and Asano gives her a raised eyebrow and a little smirk. 

Asano turns to Karma, ignoring the looks from 3-E and Karasuma and Irina, and says, “let’s hope this fucking works.” 

r ing, ring

ring, ring

“Stop dying on me!”

“Hello to you too, Akabane,” Asano greets, cordial as ever, “not the first time I’ve been impaled, not as fun as before, I must say.”

“You shouldn’t be impaled any times,” Karma says.

“Maybe,” Karma suggests, “we should talk to Koro-sensei. Tell him the truth.”

“Horrible idea,” Gakushuu says, “you forget this is how you’re dragged into this mess? I told you about this.”

“You barely told me anything,” Karma says, “you were all hysterical and cryptic and shit. I thought you were crazy . Don’t put the blame on the fact you told me barely any information, there’s no logical explanation to how both of us got caught in this stupid time loop.”

“Fine,” Gakushuu says, crossing his arms.

It goes as well as it does, and after Koro-sensei calms down, he uses a tentacle to pat Gakushuu on the head and ruffle Karma’s hair, then pulls them both into a hug. Gakushuu looks vaguely haunted.

“Any idea you have to stop the world from ending?” Gakushuu says.

“It seems that I need to let my students kill me, before it’s too late,” Koro-sensei muses, “but I’d appreciate it if you let me have as long as I need to teach the students as a teacher should. From your stories, it seems that I must have done my job.”

Karma turns red. Gakushuu scoffs. “Fine, whatever. And I’ll be all mean and antagonistic for ‘character growth’,” he makes sarcastic air quotes, “just do what you gotta do.”  

It goes on.

They talk, they do, they talk about what they hope and wish for the future if it ever comes, and the circumstances that bind them together, how long this will last and how long before they bend and break. However many times it would take. Asano's right, because the world ends many times over and each time is more beautiful than the last.

r ing, ring

ring, ring

Chapter Text

Oops

So Karma has the sweetest tooth of anyone Gakushuu has ever met, with the strawberry milk he downs like life elixir or the packets of sweets he has stashed on his person; Gakushuu doesn't understand how a living, breathing human being can safely consume this much sugar and survive.

It could be argued that Karma wasn't quite a normal human being, or that he wasn't immune to the consequences. That boy was on a constant sugar high it was exhausting to just be in his proximity.

But still. Still.

Still, Gakushuu finds himself sitting among miscellaneous kitchenware, because his heart hadn't quite got the memo. Baking was easy enough, he thinks, he'd learnt how to make cookies for charity bake sales before. Stirring batter he wonders how much sugar, exactly, should one put in for someone who loved sweets as much as Karma did, and he decides with twice the amount the recipe called for. 

The thing that slides out of the oven smells, unsurprisingly, like burnt sugar. It starts crumbling apart in his hands and a quick google search tells Gakushuu exactly why people adhere to recipes, but Gakushuu has faith and shoves the crumbs into his mouth.

Then spits it out and washes out his mouth with water. But he admits that his tastes in food are more… unique, so he breaks down his father’s office door. “I need you to taste-test something for me,” he demands.

Gakuhou is immediately on edge. “What?” His father says, eyes narrowing. 

Gakushuu shoves the plate with the misshapen lumps under Gakuhou's nose. "Eat this."

Very warily, Gakuhou takes a disfigured cookie from the proferred plate, bites into it, chews and swallows, and says, "this is the worst thing I've ever put in my mouth."

Back to the chopping board. He should use the recommended amount of sugar this time. He says so as much, and Gakuhou makes a face. 

"Why do you need a chopping board?" he asks. "What are you chopping? You're making cookies."

"It's just a metaphor," Gakushuu says.

"You mean drawing board?"

"Yeah, but I'm not drawing anything."

"You're not chopping anything either," Gakuhou points out. Gakushuu scowls at him.

There's a reason recipes exist, Gakushuu thinks, when his father makes an approving noise at his second batch. 

"It still sucks," Gakuhou tells him. A glowing compliment. 

Gakuhou watches his son agonize over the pot - boiling for a fresh batch - for a few moments. Then he asks, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“Has it not been obvious?” Gakushuu stirs and lifts the wooden spoon to scrutinize it, but then it becomes abundantly clear he doesn’t actually know what he’s supposed to be looking for. “I’m making cookies.”

Gakuhou waits a beat. Then two. Then he sighs longsufferingly. “ Why are you making cookies?”

Gakushuu whips around to glare at him. “Do I need a reason?”

Gakuhou stares pointedly at him. 

“It’s,” Gakushuu grumbles, ears red, “none of your business.”

Chapter Text

Who knows what happened, not Karma

"What," says Gakushuu, "the fuck."

Karma whips around, wide eyes. "I can explain."

In the kitchen sink, something spews black smoke. 

Gakushuu waits a beat, then two. No explanation arrives, and his eyebrow raise prompts no elaboration aside from a shrug.

"Karma," Gakushuu says.

"Are you mad at me?" Karma says immediately.

"I'm not mad at you," Gakushuu reassures. "I just want to know what happened."

Karma frowns. "I wanted to make you a cake," he mumbles.

"Karma," Gakushuu says now, confusion lacing his tone, "you're great at baking." Which offers no insight whatsoever on the blackened oven door and what seems to be ruined batter in the trash.

"Used to be," Karma says, even softer, and things click in Gakushuu's mind. 

Approximately one week ago, the man Gakushuu had chosen to spend his life with in a moment of weakness, had an argument with a stairwell. The stairs won. 

Karma Akabane, Gakushuu's endearingly idiotic husband of 3 years, who'd in the span of a single day lost about 4 years of his memory, was now Karma Akabane, Gakushuu's endearingly idiotic boyfriend. His father had pointed out that letting Karma know was not a big deal considering that the Karma of 4 years ago had already bought the ring, but Gakushuu didn't think he would get through the embarrassment of explaining the failure of a proposal.

("It was a wonderful proposal," Gakuhou had pointed out, "sure, there were a few… memorable moments but he still married you."

"You'll just show him the video," Gakushuu had hissed, red coloring his cheeks, "stay out of my marriage," and Gakuhou corrects, "boyfriend," the topic was dropped.)

The memory loss should be temporary, the doctor said, he wouldn't remember everything the way he did after a full recovery but that was more attributed to the natural tendency of humans to airbrush details as time passed. Gakushuu didn't think the sudden inability to bake was attributed to the temporary amnesia; Karma had no problems in the kitchen 4 years ago. It seemed more likely to be the general disorientation during recovery of head injuries.

He says so that much to Karma, who'd refused to let Gakushuu take part in any of the cleanup and then proceeded to sulk on the couch.

"You'll be back to being Gordon Ramsay soon, Kitten," Gakushuu says, thinking of Karma swearing at the eggs while whipping beautiful omelettes. Then abruptly remembers that "Kitten" was a recent development of only two years prior, and Karma turns the starkest shade of red. 

--

Gakushuu pulls out a box he'd shut into one of the storage rooms.

"What's that?" Karma asks. Curiosity and the cat, after all. Gakushuu's pretty sure this would kill him.

"Sex toys," Gakushuu says nonchalantly, because he'd been married to his menace of a husband for 3 whole years and together with him for 4 before that, and they've pretty much gone and tried, well, everything. Karma, much less unphased, falls flat on his ass with a yelp.

"We've been together for 7 years, Karma," Gakushuu teases.

"It's been 3 for me," Karma mumbles. Gakushuu finally finds what he was looking for and brandishes it with a flourish: a pair cat-eared headbands.

"Why is that in… that box?" Karma says.

"Comes with a whole matching set," Gakushuu tells him, "like a cat tail b-"

"Don't tell me," Karma interrupts, turning his head away. Gakushuu laughs at him a little.

"This was why I started calling you Kitten," Gakushuu tells him. That's the main purpose of this box because he knew Karma hated being out of the dark about anything, even something as small as a cutesy nickname, and was too proud to ask about it. He's not going to try anything with this Karma for now because while they were technically the same age in a consenting relationship, this Karma was technically 4 years younger; that was weird for Gakushuu's taste, this was like a baby version of his husband that still got hilariously flustered when Gakushuu said the word "buttplug". 

"Oh," says Karma. The head tilt was a thoughtful one.

Cats, curiosity… cute. "There's a photo album in one of the drawers in my study," Gakushuu tells him. Carefully inspected for incriminating evidence of their marriage, of course, because Gakushuu refuses to have that conversation. He'd spotted Karma flipping through it a few days ago, and would no doubt be bursting with unasked questions. Karma does a poor job of concealing his excitement as he jumps to get it. 

--

"Why don't you just tell him that you guys are married?" Nagisa says, obviously not understanding Gakushuu's distress. "You're already dating, and Karma planned to propose about 2 years in. He'd be delighted."

Akari, ever so observant, giggles. "You don't get it, Nagisa? He doesn't want to tell him about what happened during the proposal when-"

"Stop," Gakushuu says, ears already burning at the mere thought of it. God, how mortifying . He was an embarrassment to his name.

"I thought it was really cute," Nagisa says, eyes sparkling.

"It was awful," Gakushuu groans.  

"He still married you," Akari says. “He loves you, even if you’re a dumbass.”

“Akari,” Nagisa chides softly, but he’s grinning. 

Gakushuu’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and accepts the call without glancing at the caller ID because there’s only 2 people who would dare contact him without invitation on his day off. One of them is Gakuhou, but he'd much sooner send Gakushuu an email than call him.

“Hey Kitten,” Gakushuu says. Both the normal version of his husband and the amnesic on refuse to admit that the nickname gets them all fuzzy inside, but Gakushuu knows. He hears Karma suck in a breath on the line, and across the table Akari waggles her eyebrows at him and mouths “speaker”!

Gakushuu flips her the bird. 

“Hey,” Karma says softly, “you still like chocolate cake, right?”

“Yes,” Gakushuu says, feeling warmth in his belly curling. He loved his husband’s sweets- “wait, are you trying to bake?”

“No,” Karma huffs. “I’m buying cake. You don’t have to sound so relieved.”

He’s still sour about his temporary loss of culinary prowess and kicks up a fuss whenever it is as so hinted at, and raged when he realized Gakushuu was better at cooking than him now. There was only so much takeout Gakushuu could eat before he had to put his foot down and stop indulging his boyfriend in his whims, insufferable amnesiac spouse or not, Gakushuu didn't want to die of monosodium glutamate. 

"Karma,” Gakushuu sighs, flipping Akari off again and Nagisa smiles politely with a pleasant pink on his face. “You know I love you, whether or not you can bake.”

Karma’s sour reply goes, “I’d love myself more if I can bake.”

Spoiler alert (well not really because this isn't a spoiler if it's all you're getting):

Karma proposed with a ring on a cupcake. Cute and adorable, right? Gakushuu thought so too, but he panicked and ate the entire thing, including the ring.

Chapter Text

The google document for this fic was created 10 December 2018 at 06:22, holy shit

Karma wouldn’t say they were the best of friends, nor were they just rivals to each other anymore - they were certainly something that Karma doesn’t quite understand and he’s pretty sure Gakushuu doesn’t either, but the other boy hasn’t tried to discuss the explicit definition of the relationship they had. 

Kayano was a secret romantic and said they were courting. Nagisa was a tease and called them weird with a soft tilt to his lips. The Virtuosos had collectively deemed them incredibly strange but also sort of cute. 

But whatever worked worked, right? 

Maybe?

--

Their second year, first end-of-semester exams are a disaster. There’s no other way to describe it.

Karma comes in first place. “Guess I won again, eh, second-place?” Karma calls out from his seat at the back. 2-A is used to their banter, no one bats an eye.

Except Mikasa, who turns to Karma so frantically with wide-eyes that Karma pauses.

“What?” He mouths to her.

She holds up two fingers.

There’s a movement to his side that makes Karma turn. It’s Sakakibara, holding up 3, looking horrified.

Ren motions to Seo, who’s watching in stunned silence, and holds up 4 fingers in response.

2-A grows quiet. 

Fukijama, a seat away from Asano, very slowly holds up 5 fingers.

Karma looks around. No one holds up 6.

Fuck.

Asano, who had remained chillingly silent throughout this exchange, stands up. “You win some, you lose some,” he shrugs, voice smooth and nonchalant and completely in character with the chill and benevolent top student the rest of Kunugigaoka is used to seeing.

Sakakibara exchanges a wide-eyed look with Karma.

“I didn’t have a good nights sleep before exams,” Asano says as casually, which is perhaps what makes the situation scarier than it already was, “I’d have to work harder next semester. Congrats again, Akabane. And you too, Mikasa, your math has improved a lot!”

“Thank you,” Mikasa says meekly.

“Fuck,” Akari mouths really slowly, turning to make eye contact with every single one of the Virtuosos, and Karma.

Asano turns around to catch Karma’s eye, and grins. It’s an incredibly fake public grin that Asano reserves for when he’s absolutely exhausted.

--

Karma approaches Asano at his locker at the end of the school day. 

“What are you staying back so late for?” Karma says, trying to keep his voice even.

“You know I had a student council meeting,” Asano replies, rummaging through his locker. His voice is devoid of emotion. 

Karma bites his lip. “Asano-”

Asano shuts the locker with a soft click. It’s insurmountably more terrifying that it would have been if he had slammed it instead. 

He turns to Karma, eyes glinting. “I’m going to ask you a question because you know me enough to give me an honest answer, and I know you won’t sugarcoat it.”

“Yeah?”

“What is wrong with me?”

Karma blinks at him, eyes wide. Asano is staring at him with a blank expression, gaze muted, head tilted. It reminds Karma of a whipped puppy. 

Karma gulps.

Asano remains silent, waiting for an answer.

“You’re,” Karma tries, “mean.”

He doesn’t want to go too far. There’s a lot of things he could say but there’s no telling what kind of mental state Asano is in right now. 

Asano’s expression or body posture doesn’t change. He stands there, oddly open and lax. 

“You’re,” Karma says, again, “arrogant?”

Asano tilts his head the other way. 

“And manipulative and you have twisted morals, but that’s because of your upbringing,” Karma says hurriedly, “not something you can change - I mean, you can change them, I meant as in, not something you really had a choice in.”

Asano looks at his hands briefly, then back up at Karma.

If this was a new interrogation technique, Karma hated it. 

“You’re selfish,” he blurts, “but like just a little. Sometimes you do a little, uhm, unethical stuff to win.”

Asano’s expression turns considering.

“You push yourself too hard!” Karma grips tightly onto his bag strap, “you should take a break. More breaks. You work too much, it’s not doing you any good.”

Asano tilts his head again.

“Stop that,” Karma snaps, flustered. 

“Thanks,” Asano says quietly. 

“Asano?” Karma’s brows furrow, “why did you ask me that?” 

“Self improvement,” Asano says mildly. He turns on his heel and starts walking away. Karma catches up. 

“What does that mean? Are you okay?” Karma asks.

Asano shrugs. 

Karma bites his lip. “I’ll see you after break ends, back in school,” he says. It comes out more of a sentence than a question. 

But more importantly, it’s a plea: don’t do anything stupid.

“Okay,” Asano says in acknowledgement. Karma deflates. 

Not the best answer he wanted but not the worst.

--

Nagisa had given Karma an invitation to go out for ice cream about a week prior “to celebrate end of exams, what else?”, but Karma’s heart just isn’t in it anymore.

He’s happy to see Nagisa, he really is, but Asano’s behavior is making him worry. Sakakibara had added him to a chat group appropriately titled “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING”, inclusive of the Virtuosos except Asano.

None of them know. They don’t seem very reassured by Karma’s interaction with him. 

“Is there something wrong?” Nagisa asks, eyes sharp, “you’re very distracted.”

“I got first,” Karma says absently.

Nagisa’s eyes brighten in pleasant surprise. “That’s great! Why the long face?”

“...Asano got sixth.”

Nagisa drops his spoon. 

“And he was acting super weird that it was actually scary,” Karma says, because now Nagisa had gotten him going, “like he asked me what’s wrong with him. God it was awful. He looked like someone killed his pet.”

“Does he have a pet?” Nagisa asks.

“No?” Karma says hysterically, “I don’t know. The Virtuosos are worried. God, I’m worried.”

“Do you want to go check up on him?” Nagisa asks, concerned. 

“I’ve already texted him several times,” Karma looks down at his phone, “he apparently told Sakakibara he was fine and just needed to be alone for like, a day or two.” He takes a bite of his ice cream. It’s not even sweet anymore.

“Do you think it’s his dad?” Nagisa says softly.

“Maybe?” Karma sighs, “I don’t know, it’s so. I don’t know.”

--

At night when Karma’s walking home from the subway station, it starts raining. 

The drizzle turns into a downpour so abruptly that he’s drenched almost immediately, and hops into a corner convenience stall to buy an umbrella. Three minutes or so after that when Karma passes the park, he sees a figure hunched over on a park bench, sitting out in the rain. 

It’s not familiar. The sheer absurdity is what makes Karma pause at first and call out. “Hey! You okay?” 

The figure doesn’t respond, or if they did, it’s lost to the rain. 

Karma’s a genuinely concerned citizen so he takes a detour to check up on this man. It’s kind of like a slap in the face when he gets closer and realizes who it is. He breaks into a jog and crouches in front of Asano, whose head is bowed and hands clasped in front of him.

“Hey,” Karma says gently, “hey, want to get out of this rain?”

Asano shivers. 

“Okay,” Karma tells him, “my place, okay? A couple of minutes away. Get you warm and wait the rain out.” He grips Asano’s shoulder and tucks the boy under his arm under the umbrella, not like his shirt is going to get any more wet than it already is anyways. 

Karma’s worried about the lack of resistance, and how cold Asano feels under his fingers.

When they get back Asano stands in Karma’s doorway, a sopping mess and looking as dead as he was in the afternoon. 

“I’ll get your floor dirty,” Asano says quietly.

Karma’s heart aches. “It’s not carpeted,” his shoulder slumps, “I’m already getting it dirty anyways. Can just clean it up later. You should take a hot shower and change into something dry before you catch a cold.”

Asano shrugs. Karma bundles him into a shower and strips him down to his underwear, and expectedly but not any less worryingly, there’s no resistance. 

It’s not the first time Karma sees him shirtless. He hesitates a little with Asano’s pants but the blond makes a decision for him and steps out of them. There’s nothing sexual about dragging a stool into the bathroom and sitting Asano down so he can shampoo his hair. 

It’s not the first time Asano’s wearing his clothes either. They’re both lean and about the same height. Karma throws a sweater at him and takes his own shower. When he gets out Asano is mopping his floor.

“Stop that,” Karma chides. Asano puts the mop back in his bucket. 

Karma drags him to the couch. Asano curls up by himself. 

“Are you hungry?” Karma asks, “you want soup? Or rice, or pasta? I can make something real quick-”

“What’s wrong with me?!” Asano says hotly.

Karma’s jaw drops. “Asano-”

“What’s wrong with me?!” Asano repeats, staring right at Karma. His eyes are red-rimmed, Karma realizes with a jolt.

“Nothing,” Karma says forcefully.

“Stop lying to me,” Asano hisses, “you’re the one fucking person who shouldn’t lie to me, I-”

Karma grits his teeth. “There’s a whole list of shit that’s wrong with you,” he says, “but it’s not your fault. You’re a kid and you had shitty parenting.”

“I didn’t ask for a psychoanalysis,” Asano spits, “tell me why you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you!” Karma yells, pained, “do you think I do?! I could never hate you, nobody hates you!”

“He does,” Asano says hoarsely, then shuts his mouth with a loud click. 

“Asano-”

Asano shakes his head and buries his face in his hands.

Karma deflates. Asano’s a scared little child, he thinks, he’s just a kid. They’re all kids. They don’t deserve to have the fate of the world on their shoulders or tyrannical beings for parental figures.

Karma slides next to him and pulls Asano onto his lap.

“What are you doing?” Asano whispers.

“Giving you a hug,” Karma whispers back. He wraps his arms around Asano and squeezes, and tucks his blond head under his chin. 

Asano shudders.

--

They fall asleep like that, or rather Asano falls asleep like that, oddly. Karma has a crick in his neck.

At about one am Asano’s phone buzzes. It’s Asano Senior. Asano Junior’s dead asleep, exhausted, and Karma picks it up. 

“Where are you?” The voice over the phone says coldly. Karma feels a chill.

“With me,” he answers, trying to keep his voice steady.

There's a pause on the line. “Akabane,” Asano Senior says, “so he’s alive?”

Karma tastes something bitter on his tongue. “Yes,” he says.

“Hn,” Asano Senior says. The line goes dead.

Karma glares at the phone.  

He thinks about his bed upstairs, then settles into the couch. It’s not a cold day despite the rain.

--

“Hey sleepyhead,” Karma says, pressing a soft kiss to Asano’s forehead when he stirs. 

Asano blinks wearily. “Akabane?”

“I made breakfast,” Karma says, “you should text the Virtuosos. They’re worried.”

Asano sits up on the couch, running a hand through his bedhead. He looks at his phone and scrolls through something. “My dad called,” he says, expression carefully clear.

“...yeah,” Karma says cautiously.

Asano blinks at his phone, then seems to make a decision and starts typing something. Karma chews his bottom lip. 

The pancakes are still warm on the dining table. Asano eats like he’s starving, and Karma wonders if he’d eaten yesterday. He finally checks the notifications he’d been ignoring in lieu of updates from the Asano Watch chat group.

Several people from 2-A he normally keeps a cordial relationship with have reached out to ask about Asano’s wellbeing. It’s a little touching, peers willing to lend a hand if needed, but Karma doesn’t know how to reply. Nagisa had sent him a follow-up text with concern.

Asano’s phone buzzes. He takes the call faster than Karma can see the caller identity, and Asano hunches further in his seat. He’s silent through most of it, nods once, then says, “okay,” subduedly, and hangs up.

“Who was that?” Karma asks.

“Dad’s coming to pick me up in a bit,” Asano tells him tiredly.

“Oh,” Karma says.

“Where did you leave my clothes?” Asano asks. 

“Should be done in the dryer,” Karma says, “finish your pancakes. I’ll get them.”

Asano doesn’t finish his pancakes. Karma’s disappointed but not surprised, and he looks pained at Asano who’s already fidgeting by the door with his head bowed.

Karma walks over and hugs him. Asano’s stiff and he’s holding himself way too awkwardly, and Karma tugs his arms into place and runs his fingers through Asano’s hair and down his spine and then Asano all but melts into Karma’s arms, burying his face in his shoulder and squeezing back as tightly.

There are lines in novels where kisses are described as forever in a second, and Karma thinks they can be applied to hugs. 

The doorbell rings. Asano jumps.

Karma hands him the bag with his clothes and purses his lips when Asano settles into his poster-boy farce, with his back just a little straighter and eyes a little harder and smile a little sharper, and when he looks from his father to Karma, all Karma feels is an icy chill.  

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” Asano says smoothly with a smile that’s too practiced to be sincere, which sounds like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“No problem,” Karma chokes out. Asano looks so boredly at him and it’s kind of like being stabbed. Asano Senior’s gaze flickers towards him in mild interest, then shares whatever seems to be cordial small talk with his own son the way one would to a business acquaintance, not that Karma is really registering any of it with his blood pumping in his ears.

What he does hear is an innocent sounding “see you at school after break ends” from Asano. Karma kind of wants to throw up.

--

Karma texts Asano throughout the day, and he gets left on read, but there’s always a little twinge he gets when Asano comes online, albeit briefly.

He gets his first reply at night when he snaps a picture of the pile of books at the foot of his bed. The little speech bubble indicating typing appears and disappears, then a message pops up. “Miss you.”

Karma sucks in a breath. “Miss you too,” he types.

The speech bubble taunts him a little, then disappears altogether.

Karma chokes a little. He dials Sakakibara without thinking.

“Hey,” Sakakibara sounds weary when he picks up, “what’s wrong, Akabane?”

“I don’t know,” Karma says, “I’m. Just.”

“Yeah,” there’s a sound like the rustling of pages over at his end, then the sound of a book closing. Then, “how are you feeling?”

“Awful,” Karma admits.

“Yeah,” Sakakibara sighs, “it hits you hard the first time. You get, well, I won’t say used to it.”

Karma’s heart is beating erratically. “He’s just a kid.”

“You think he cares? We are all kids. A-Class, E-class, heck, we were all 13 when we started here.”

“How old,” Karma says, stops. “Do you think?”

“Five,” Sakakibara says softly, decisively. Karma knows he won’t give any more than that, which means it must be something Asano has to tell him of his own volition.

“He doesn’t,” Sakakibara continues hesitantly, “hit Gakushuu, or anything like that. They don’t, nothing physical, except for.”

“I heard about that,” Karma says.

“Yeah,” Sakakibara sounds staticy over the phone. “I don’t know what happened this time. I can usually guess but I don’t know.”

Karma’s grip tightens around his phone. “Yeah,” he says.

--

Karma doesn’t hear much from Asano in the tense week that follows. The rest of the Virtuosos don’t either, and Sakakibara always updates the chat group whenever he gets a morning text from Asano.

Karma doesn’t want to say he’s jealous. He gets the night ones, which is always some variation of “I’m okay” that Karma can taste the bitterness of. “Still alive,” comes on wednesday, which makes Karma’s heart stop a little. “Hug,” comes on friday, which leaves Karma staring at his phone until the battery dies.   

On saturday morning he goes to Asano’s house, fuck whatever the Virtuosos were saying about giving him space, fuck Asano Senior and his awful parenting. 

He keeps that train of thought right up until he’s at the front doorstep of Asano’s house. He’s been in there only once.

Karma doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s not Asano sitting cross-legged in his living room and spinning a wooden top.

Asano doesn’t look up but Karma knows that he knows that Karma walked in. 

“Hey,” Karma says, hands in his pockets, “sorry I came unannounced.” He doesn’t say he was worried but it doesn’t take a genius.

The top falls on it’s side. Asano picks it up delicately and twirls it in his fingers, and then it’s spinning again.

“Thanks,” Asano says softly.

Karma sits next to him. ”Miss you,” he echoes Asano’s first text.

Asano stares at him impassively, then his face melts into something soft and warm and hurt. Karma lunges forward and hugs him tight. Asano hugs him back and lets himself get pulled onto Karma’s lap and starts trembling, and Karma doesn’t ever want to let him go.

--

The second semester starts off on a low note. 

Asano steps into class the same way he walked out of it a week before, head high and eyes bright and smiling, and everyone smiles back and makes polite conversation but there’s a different atmosphere about him now, like 2-A is expecting Asano to snap like a rubber band.

The rest of the school hears about it, of course, Asano Gakushuu dropping out of top 5 in one exam. It makes everyone give him wary glances and awkward smiles, and Karma knows it’s making Asano frustrated. 

“Oi, Asano,” Karma calls out. It’s incredibly normal and 2-A is used to their banter and everyone turns to stare.

Asano turns back on his chair, eyebrow quirked curiously. It’s always amusing to Karma to see how open Asano lets his body language pretend to be, but right now Asano reads like a closed book.

Karma flushes a little, because he hasn’t thought of anything to say. Asano’s gaze turns questioning, then amused, then gives Karma a little quirk of his lips that makes Karma’s hear go ba-dump. 

He’s fucking cute, Karma thinks. Someone snickers.

Asano tilts his head a little, and bats his eyelashes. He’s in a playful mood, or rather he seems like he’s in a playful mood. Whether or not it’s still an act in an attempt to look normal Karma can’t really tell, but playful Asano is monumentally more attractive than mopey Asano and Karma kind of wants to play along. 

“Is there something you needed?” Asano asks, voice curling like smoke. Karma flushes a little deeper.

“...had a nice break?” Karma tries, sounding as awkward as he feels. Sakakibara, sitting in front of Asano and turned around to watch the proceedings, gives Karma full view of a very exasperated eye roll.

“Same old, same old,” Asano shrugs nonchalantly, which in itself is already a red flag. “How about you?”

Karma’s mind is blank. He spent his week worrying about this stupid dumbass. 

Oh what the heck. He’s pretty sure the whole school already knows there’s something going on between him and Asano, ranging from heated rivalry to actually best friends to budding romance to having secret trysts in hidden locations in school. Regardless, his weird gay crush isn’t unnoticed by any means even if they’re actually inching forward at a snail’s pace of a relationship. and Asano is either a really slow mover or the most oblivious fucking rock of a human being to ever grace this planet.

Karma has a short moment of panic. They never really discussed this so there was still that tiny bit of a chance that Asano thought this was some platonic hangout they’ve been doing. Biggest no-homo.

“I spent all week thinking about you,” Karma shrugs like it’s no big deal.

There’s a collective “aw” noise. Asano’s gaze turns soft in a way that Karma knows is real. Asano looks way but there’s a pink to his cheeks that wasn’t previously there. 

This boy better be reciprocating his massive gay crush or Karma was going to seduce him and kick his ass, not necessarily in that order.

--

Asano acts the exact same way he does every day and Karma still can’t get a read on him, and the Virtuosos don’t seem any less reassured despite everything going seemingly back to normal. 

The second week of school when Asano is idly chatting with Koyama and Seo, Karma slides up to them. Asano leans in a little to his side instinctively. 

Karma purses his lips. He replies an half-hearted “alright” to Seo’s “how are you doing?” and brushes his shoulder against Asano’s. 

Asano presses into the contact. Araki comes over and looks at Karma like he knows what Karma is trying to test. He stands over on Asano’s other side. Karma feels Asano shift his weight towards him.

Araki discreetly shoots Karma a look.

--

Nagisa is endlessly amused and slightly concerned at the predicament that Karma has gotten himself in, on what he dubs the White-Knight-Situation.

“You have to tread carefully,” Nagisa points out, “as much as you think you know, you still have a foreign perspective of things. You might push too hard and go somewhere you’re not supposed to and Asano will shut you out and I don’t know if you can get back again.”

“I’m not trying to push,” Karma argues, and Nagisa gives him an unimpressed look.

“You both have estranged parents,” Nagisa says, “but very different situations. Whatever works for you may backfire hard for him.”

“I don’t plan on trying to whisk him away on a horse into a sunset with a happily ever after,” Karma looks down, “I don’t think I can anyhow, and Asano would probably hate it if I tried to fight his battles, no matter the outcome.”

“Be his support group,” Nagisa says, “emotional support. Have you talked to Sakakibara or the other Virtuosos about it? They’re Asano’s friends since middle school.”

“Sakakibara says he has no clue what’s happening,” Karma stirs his coffee, “and they’re all saying I need to do whatever I keep doing but give Asano space.”

“You have your answer,” Nagisa pats his arm, “you’re helping him, being you, and he’ll let you in when he’s ready.”

--

It’s not until tomorrow that Karma decides to do something. Asano’s standing by his locker and rifling through it contents and Karma goes up to him. It feels a little like deja vu.

“Akabane,” Asano greets, more subdued without an audience but light enough.

Karma waits for Asano to find the book he’s looking for, then shuts the locker door with a soft click. 

“What are you-”

Karma wordlessly reaches forward. Asano stands, shocked, tense the way he is every single time Karma hugs him, and more because this is their school and not either of their houses, as if hugging in public was something to be scorned at. 

Asano tries to pull away and Karma squeezes him harder, starts running his fingers up and down his back and stroking his hair. Asano’s head drops onto his shoulder. 

Some people are watching now, maybe three or four who have milled around in the hallway. When Asano stops struggling it’s obvious how much he’s actually shaking, and Karma presses his lips to his temple. 

Asano wraps his arms around Karma’s torso and pushes his nose into the crook of his neck. The book is somewhere on the ground now. Asano grows lax and they end up sinking to the ground, legs tangled, still hugging. 

“Akabane,” Asano murmurs into his shoulder. 

Karma kisses him lightly on the head.

--

That sort of starts a chain or breaks a dam or something like that, like suddenly it hits the student body that the ex-principal’s son wasn’t a super workaholic perfect being of sorts, like he was actually human. 

Maybe before people had spoken to Asano like they put him on a pedestal. If getting hugged in the hallways was what everyone considered a public breakdown then he was still on high steps of some sort, but within reach. 

And maybe it’s also the breaking point for Asano, who for once drops his smile in class and lets himself slouch over and sound tired, if only a little bit. 

Karma walks in on Shimizu offering Asano a teabag, saying something about stress relief, and offering her thermos. Asano takes a delicate sip and says something back. 

Shimizu smiles at Karma and steps back to make a space for him when he approaches. It’s still a little weird to see how most people have automatically accepted him as an unofficial part of the Virtuosos. 

Technically, grades-wise, even Asano was’t part of the Virtuosos anymore. 

Asano leans into Karma’s side. 

“Are we still on friday?” Shimizu is asking.

“Sure,” Asano says, “like you said, stress relief.”

“Only you would find a study session stress relief,” Shimizu laughs, “Mikasa is bringing brownies. She’s practicing for her brother’s birthday and has been feeding me baked goods every day.”

“Akabane’s a great baker,” Asano tells her, which surprises Karma. 

“Oh?” Shimizu’s eyes widen. “What do you bake?”

“A lot of things,” Karma says, “I can do brownies.”

“My favorite are his macarons,” Asano says, voice uncharacteristically fond. Karma’s fingers curl at the nape of his neck, which is warm.

“You should’ve said,” Karma says, a little abashedly, “I could have made some.”

“You said they take too much time and effort,” Asano shrugs. 

“It’s not too much effort for you,” Karma says, blushing a little.

“You two are so cute,” Shimizu smiles at them. Karma’s ears turn redder. 

“How’s Kobayashi?” Karma brings up. Asano looks amused at his sudden change of subject. Shimizu grins knowingly at him.

“Wish he’d make macarons for me,” she sighs. 

Karma doesn’t think he could blush harder but he certainly feels it. 

He does end up spending a whole afternoon on macarons, scrapping two batches of frosting because Asano doesn’t like things that are too sweet. When he brings them to school on Thursday, Shimizu makes a little “aww” noise and starts whispering, which makes most of 2-A look at him warmly for the rest of the day, but Asano looks so genuinely touched that Karma thinks a little bit of embarrassment is worth it.

--

Sakakibara invites him out for coffee on Sunday. Karma keeps a slightly more affable relationship with him than the other three Virtuosos but the invitation is still out of the blue.

“-don’t want him to get hurt,” Sakakibara is saying rather sternly.

Karma takes a long sip of his frappe. “Is this a shovel talk?” 

“No,” Sakakibara says.

“Sounds like one to me,” Karma says. He’s not rather threatened by Sakakibara but it’s a well-meaning gesture.

“Were you listening to me?” Sakakibara sounds exasperated.

“I like Asano, he likes me back, don’t hurt him or you’ll drown me in a ditch?” Karma says.

“Yes,” Sakakibara says impatiently, “but more of a how you need to start working around his dad.” 

“What, does Asano Senior not like me?” Karma raises a cool eyebrow, like he actually cares about what that man thinks.

Sakakibara looks shifty. “I think he actually does like you,” he says, voice uncertain, “which, I’m not sure what that means for you and Asano, actually.”

Karma is intrigued. “He likes me because I’m top of the cohort,” he guesses.

“Possibly,” Sakakibara says, “but I don’t think that’s entirely it.” 

“Anyways,” he continues, “your track record for opposing authority isn’t, well, the best. Like I was saying, maybe it would seem like a good idea to antagonize Asano Senior, but whatever happens, you’re not the one that’s going to be suffering from the negative repercussions, and I think you’re smart enough to understand that.”

Karma bristles, but he knows Sakakibara has a point. “What, we just let him abuse-”

“I’m not saying that,” Sakakibara frowns, “but none of us are in the best position to help him.”

“What are you suggesting? Wait it out till college?” Karma snaps, “we don’t know what’s going to happen before then. Something clearly happened last month that fucked him up and we still don’t know what-”

“You’re going to get him killed,” Sakakibara hissed.

Karma deflates. “I-”

Sakakibara’s eyes soften. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” he says gently.

--

Karma makes more macarons and woos Asano with sweets and banter and gentle presses. Karma thinks he doesn’t make it too obvious, just a little tug here and a press of his knee to his leg, slight leaning in and touching of their arms if they’re standing close. He starts to think Asano chases the contact, shifting to make sure they’re touching, when sitting at the cafeteria or in the library or standing by the lockers. 

“Come over?” Karma says, swinging an arm widely over Asano’s shoulders like a bad move in a cinema, while they’re sitting on a bench in the cafeteria. 

“Kay,” Asano replies, leaning into Karma’s chest, slowly scrolling through a news article on his phone. 

Karma tugs Asano closer. He looks around, nobody is paying them any mind, school delinquent and star student practically cuddling. Karma slings his leg over Asano’s thighs, which earns him a bemused look and an eye roll. Karma snakes himself into Asano’s arms. 

“Hi,” Karma says. 

“Hello,” Asano says back. 

Karma presses his lips to Asano’s neck and hums.

“We’re at school,” Asano murmurs, low and embarrassed. 

“Mhm,” Karma says, and boldly starts mouthing along his jawline. He doesn’t mean to go far but Asano shivers and ducks his head. “You’re a menace,” he says, and Karma grins against his ear.

Later in the afternoon Karma drags Asano onto his couch and resumes his ministrations, and Asano lets himself loosen. “You’re sweet,” Karma says, after sucking a hickey on Asano’s neck.

Asano is non-verbal, but he hasn’t been talking much in private company recently. His face is red and he replies by pushing his nose into Karma’s hair. 

Karma laughs. He kisses Asano on the neck, then the jaw, then the cheek, then the side of his lips. 

“You’re so cute,” Karma coos. Asano blushes.

--

They haven’t kissed on the lips, which is a little weird when Karma thinks about it, considering how much concealer he’s using to cover up the red marks along his neck and collarbone. 

He brings that up to Kabaya, who naturally laughs in his face for a good three minutes, who then texts Rukiyo about it so she takes a bathroom break to come to the rooftop to laugh about it in Karma’s face for another three minutes, then runs back to Math. 

“You two are fucking adorable,” Kabaya grins, “why are you being so weird about it? You’ve been dating for like, more than half a year. If you want to kiss him on the mouth, just kiss him on the mouth.”

“We’re not dating,” Karma mutters, face heated. 

“I will throw this shoe at you,” Kabaya says just as cheerfully, “if you try and lie to me in my face again.”

--

“Kiss the boy, coward,” Kayano says.

“Listen-” 

“Coward,” Kayano repeats.

“Well you didn’t kiss Nagisa either,” Karma says, blushing. Asano raises an eyebrow when he catches the end of Karma’s side of the conversation. 

“Kayano,” Karma mouths, motioning to his phone. “Well,” Kayano’s voice sounds flustered, “It took me six months. It’s been six months for you, yes?”

“But-”

“And you two are like, official. Nagisa and I weren’t even dating.”

“We’re not official,” Karma hisses, putting his hand over the receiver, 

There was a pause, then a “Karma, I’ll kill you.”

“Listen,” Karma says, “we-”

“Karma, I’ll kill you,” Kayano repeats, “slowly.”

Asano tilts his head questioningly. He nudges Karma with his knee. 

Karma shrugs helplessly at him. “Kayano,” he whines, “we’re,” he side-eyes Asano, who seems to be back engrossed in his book, and then whispers, “not boyfriends, we haven’t talked about it or anything, I don’t know if he wants to be official or just go along with what we have.”

“And what do you have?” Kayano says so deadpan that Karma can imagine her eye-roll, “no-homo making out?”

“Definite homo,” Karma insists so forcefully that Asano puts his book down and stares. Karma blushes and averts his eyes. “Should I ask?”

“Well you two need to talk about it eventually,” Kayano points out. 

“Is now a good time?” Karma asks nervously, “with everything that’s going on.”

“Stuff’s always going on,” Kayano tells him, “he’s better now, right? Getting all As again?” 

Karma shrugs helplessly. “I guess? I don’t know.”

Asano, lightning quick, plucks Karma’s phone out of his hands. Karma yelps and lunges for it, and Asano rolls away and kicks Karma square in the face. 

“Kayano,” Asano greets, and twists out of Karma’s grasp. Asano seems thoughtful at whatever Kayano is saying, nods once, and then stares at Karma intensely. Karma’s eyes widen, and he makes a desperate grab and pulls Asano and pins him down, who drops the phone, then flips them over so Asano is on top. 

Asano leans in, brushes his lips just barely over Karma’s, and smirks. 

Karma’s heart is beating fast. Why is he like this? They’ve made out even more heatedly before that such a simple action shouldn’t be affecting him like this, yet-

“Idiot,” Asano says, breath ghosting over Karma’s mouth. 

“You’re the idiot,” Karma counters lamely. 

Asano hums, looking amused. Then he rolls to the side, cups Karma’s face with both hands, then kisses Karma with closed lips, eyes fluttering shut. Karma closes his eyes and makes a blind grab for Asano’s collar or jacket or something, and pulls, and kisses back.

“It suddenly went quiet,” Kayano’s voice rings out, someone had pushed the speaker button in the scuffle, “are you guys making out?”

Karma manages to give a muffled yes, which gets  punctuated by Kayano’s squeal. “Bye bye!” She says, “have fun!” The call cuts and Asano looks rather pleased with himself.

“Idiot,” Asano repeats again.

“Are we boyfriends?” Karma blurts out.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Asano rolls his eyes in exasperation, and pops the button on Karma’s collar. 

--

Karma needs to tell someone. He needs to tell the world.

The text he sends Nagisa gets a reply of “congratulations” so sarcastically he could feel it through his phone screen, and Karma snorts to himself. 

When he texts Kayano, she sends him a meme where someone used one of her unimpressed-face pictures as a reaction image. 

So logically, Karma tells Sakakibara. “Asano and I are boyfriends,” he says very solemnly. 

Sakakibara squints at him. “...okay?”

“I just thought you would like to know,” Karma clarifies.

“You two have been dating for half a year,” Sakakibara actually looks genuinely concerned, “are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“We’ve been dating,” Karma explains, “but we’ve haven’t been boyfriends. Now we’re officially boyfriends.”

“What?” Sakakibara looks incredulous, “Six months ago you asked him out, he said yes, and you two started dating, yes?”

“Well back then I asked him on a date,” Karma says, “I didn’t ask him to be my boyfriend.”

“And judging by this conversation, you asked him to be your boyfriend yesterday?” Sakakibara guesses.

“You’re so smart,” Karma beams at him, “I did. I’m no longer single.”

“You haven’t been single for half a year,” Sakakibara says, and Karma doesn’t refute that because it’s true. 

Karma tells the rest of the Virtuosos, who give him variations of “...wow, really?” so Karma tells Rukiyo.

“...wow, really?” She says, not looking up from her phone. 

“Yes,” Karma says, satisfied. He’s so happy that everyone’s sarcastic responses doesn’t bring down his mood.

--

People start milling out of the classroom that the council uses as the meeting room, and many give Karma knowing looks and snickers. Karma can see Asano idly chatting with the student council president, a 3-B girl named Aiya Muramasa. Muramasa makes eye contact with Karma, says something to Asano, and Asano turns around. 

Suddenly the giggles from the other students make sense.

Asano is wearing the shirt where Karma had scribbled “Asano Gakushuu is my boyfriend!!!” on the right sleeve after P.E. with a washable marker, then ran off while Asano yelled at him from the locker room. He’d expected Asano to scrub it off and wear a wet shirt for the rest of the day, just wear his P.E. uniform, or more sensibly wear another shirt that he probably keeps in his locker for emergencies like this. 

The idea was supposed to be that the Asanos had some big family confrontation the day before the examinations, and as expected - it went terribly. Gakushuu is very OOC in this and I think this is probably the start of my sad-boy-Gakushuu phase, haha.

He'll eventually go back to his snippy snarky, high-achieving self we all know and love! He'll tell his best friend and new boyfriend about his family troubles soon enough. 

Chapter Text

Let's literally never speak of this fic again

Gakushuu goes into his first heat at age sixteen. He wakes up sweating bullets. “Fuck,” he says.

Gakushuu attempts to get out of bed, or rather he attempts to get out of bed, succeeding in getting his ankle caught around his blankets and stumbling two steps forward before going down with a crash. The alarm clock that was on his desk and now on the floor glares “04:00” rather unforgivingly and it’s far too early to be using his brain, which feels like the equivalent of mashed banana. 

So he does what any clear-headed person might do if they found themselves nursing the world’s most embarrassing bruise on their forehead. He trudges out of his room and makes it down the hallway to throw open his father’s door in an unnecessarily extravagant fashion, blanket now extracted from his ankles and wrapped around his shoulders like a cape,

and then scowls, because there was no audience to his dramatics. He hears the shower running.

“Fuck,” Gakushuu says. He flops down on his father’s bed, and whatever overflow of Omega hormones are making him feel soft and squishy inside , and he finds himself burrowing into the sheets. He doesn’t bother to get up or acknowledge Gakuhou when he enters the room, but he does open his eyes when Gakuhou flicks him behind the ear.

“Hi,” Gakushuu says, peeking out from under the duvet. 

Gakuhou frowns at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Gakushuu blinks once, twice. “Smell anything different?” 

Gakuhou makes a show of lightly sniffing the air. “You’re in heat,” he remarks casually, going about straightening out the sheets that Gakushuu had scrunched up with a furrow in his brow. Gakushuu eagerly waits for the other boot to drop.

Beat one, beat two.

“Wait.”

The reaction is immensely satisfying and Gakushuu lets himself enjoy it. Once Gakuhou stops freaking out, he proceeds to the stage of denial and says, “you? Omega? How are you an Omega ?”

Gakushuu may have found out about his designation not 10 minutes ago but he’d already owned it, and something in his father’s tone makes him bristle. He was going to be the best Omega that ever lived. “What’s wrong with being an omega?” He snaps, “if you want to say something about me, say it to my face.”

--

Gakushuu doesn’t know when he falls asleep but he wakes up that morning at 10am in a panic. There’s a note on the bedside table informing him that Gakuhou had informed the school of his absence, and weighing it down is Gakushuu’s phone blinking with what seems to be a hundred or so notifications. 

He ignores all of them first because he’s starving . Gakushuu heads downstairs and immediately gets flanked by his two excited housekeepers, whom no doubt has heard the news from his father, who was clearly incapable of shutting the fuck up.

Tamiko and Husare are all betas with Omega family. They spend breakfast imparting what they deem as necessary pearls of wisdom, which Gakushuu has to begrudgingly admit are incredibly helpful for navigating his headspace that feels very much like a wet sponge cake. 

He finally checks his messages, which are mostly from the Virtuosos and a few classmates checking up on him. He replies the rest with variations of “thank you, I’m fine” and then scrolls through the chat group he has with the Virtuosos, mostly discussing the assignments for the day thus far and conspiracy theories on whatever happened to Gakushuu.

“I’m alive, idiot,” Gakushuu types. “I presented as omega this morning,” he taps out, and then quickly turns off read receipts to watch the drama unfold. The highlights include ever tactful Araki’s incessant spamming, a voice recording of Koyama and Seo screaming into the microphone for three minutes, and a frantic soliloquy from Ren written in the form of a japanese epic.

Gakushuu receives another text, this time from one Karma Akabane, and Gakushuu feels the stone in his stomach drop. Because Akabane had presented as an Alpha at the start of this year and was the most annoying person Gakushuu had had the displeasure of meeting, and back even when he had thought both of them were Alphas, Gakushuu had a teeny weeny almost inconceivable crush on him.

This, Gakushuu thinks irrationally, is all Akabane’s fault.

“Hey,” says the text, “you okay?”

Completely innocent. A normal text that pretty much his entire class sent him. Gakushuu wants to throw his phone out the window.

--

“Nobody in Kunugigaoka is good enough for you,” Gakuhou declares.

“I’m sorry?” Gakushuu says, wondering where their conversation about porridge has went.

“The Alphas,” Gakuhou clarifies. “All of them are idiots.” Then, “you’re better than all of them, your designation hardly matters. If anyone steps out of line, kick their ass.”

That’s possibly the nicest thing Gakuhou had ever said to him.

--

Gakushuu wakes up again in the middle of the night, sweating in his air condition and feeling uncomfortable as hell. He doesn’t knock over his alarm clock again and it blares in bright lights 03:00 in the morning, so Gakushuu groans to himself and lugs a pillow over to kick down his father’s door.

Because Gakuhou is literally insane, he’s just getting ready to go on his morning jog, and he stares slack-jawed at Gakushuu blinking blearily in his doorway.

“What,” says Gakuhou.

“No,” says Gakushuu. He clambers onto the bed like he was still four years old and rolls up in the blankets, and takes great pleasure in messing up the neatly folded sheets. Then latches onto his father’s arm and bites down hard on his palm.

Gakuhou, to his credit, doesn’t even wince. Slowly extricates his hand from Gakushuu’s teeth and says, “are you going to be this clingy until your heat is over?”  

Gakushuu's brain is a nice simmering pot of soup now. If this were any other occasion, he would be absolutely mortified how quickly being in his father's proximity calms him. Once his heat is over he's going to have to give himself a pep talk and remind himself whose side he's on. The only consolation he has is the fact that he seems to have an equivalent effect on his father as well, making him far more agreeable and - dare he say - cuddly.

Gakushuu he falls asleep anyways, and he wakes up at 6 am with his father flicking through a news article on his phone and absently patting Gakushuu’s hair. 

Ugh. Pheromones. 

--

At school, Gakushuu lets the cacophony of questions rush over him, occasionally confirming that yes, he is an Omega, and yes, he presented yesterday, that’s why he missed school.

For the first time he really notices that everyone seated around him was an Alpha. He drops this as a really casual comment, just a simple observation, really, and this sparks a rather aggressive fight over seating arrangements and whatnot which Gakushuu honestly didn’t mean to start.

Everyone is yelling now. Ren and Seo have been backed into a corner and Koyama and Araki pat Gakushuu’s shoulder consolingly. When will the goddamn bell ring? Maybe Gakushuu should have gotten to school later if he knew this much drama would start.

And then Akabane walks in, blinks at the absolute chaos, and scowls. T he room falls silent.

It’s kind of impressive how he got everyone to shut up so quietly. That came with being the most powerful Alpha in the room, Gakushuu supposes, and his dangerous track record. He'll beat everyone in a fight. Except for Gakushuu, who maintains that designation or not, he can still kick ass. 

Akabane looks irritated. It's understandable, Gakushuu's irritated too. Akabane usually slinks into a quiet classroom and retreats to his seat in the back so he can use his phone before class starts, but there's a spanner thrown in those plans now. He scans the room and his gaze falls on Gakushuu, smirks and opens his mouth to say something like, “how can you say you’re a stronger Alpha than I am if you can’t even get your classmates to behave?” but then he pauses, sniffs the air, and his expression turns to one of confusion.

“Who,” Akabane starts.

Gakushuu’s kind of annoyed that he’s one of the youngest in class now. How come Akabane was five days older and presented months ago? “Guess all that talk about being a genius is just for show, huh, who’s the only person in class that hadn’t presented yet?”

Akabane’s jaw drops. “You? Omega?” He says incredulously.

“Yeah, me, got a problem with that?” Gakushuu crosses his arms. He knows this is a bad idea and he can’t blame Akabane because they’re used to sizing each other up and so it’s pure reflex that Akabane growls back.

Gakushuu really, really hates Biology. Alpha and Omega and cycles and dominance and whatever, Gakushuu squeaks a little to that growl, on pure instinct mind you. But that launches a chain of everyone else's instinctual reactions.

The shouting resumes. And after a few painful seconds of mutual mess Akabane shouts “Everybody shut up!” at the top of his lungs, and everyone quietens down almost immediately. 

Everyone turns to look at Akabane.

Akabane looks hopelessly out of depth. He's not the one who usually gives direction, and he still doesn't know what the first shouting match was about. He turns to look at Gakushuu.

"We were having a discussion on changing the seating arrangement," Gakushuu says.

Akabane wrinkles his nose. "Why should I care?"

One step forward, two steps back. Karma says he doesn't care about the stakes, so apparently that means it's a free market now. There is, indeed, more shouting.

Eyes wide, Akabane glances around the room. Ah shit, Gakushuu knows this look, he's thinking of just skipping class today. Gakushuu doesn't blame him, but - oh hell - he needs Akabane for conflict diffusion. He sees their homeroom teacher watching the commotion from behind their classroom door, but she's a little Beta lady, Gakushuu doesn't blame her. Quick, think.

Before Akabane bolts, Gakushuu bounds up to him and purrs.

It works like a charm. Somebody screams. Akabane trips over his own feet and falls flat on his ass. 

Gakushuu snickers. 

“W-what?” Akabane demands, face as red as his hair. He gets up to his feet and Gakushuu delights in watching him squirm, just as everyone watches in rapt attention.   

“Can you do me a favor ? ” He practically sings, leaning closer.

Akabane jolts back like he touched a live wire, and turns impossibly redder. “What do you want?” He spits out, looking frustrated. 

“Change the seating arrangement for me?” Gakushuu says. He doesn’t need to be an Omega or listen to his father’s ramblings to know he’s attractive, and he gives Akabane the smile which he knows works . 

“Fine, fine! D-do whatever you want!” Akabane shrieks. “Change it, change it!” 

Heh. 

--

Gakuhou is the most unbearable of unbearable-ness. “I heard about what happened in school."

“And what picture has your brilliant artist of a mind painted?” Gakushuu snarks, as he kneads the pillows and stretches, and then settles into his father’s side comfortably.

“You’re going to be propositioned soon,” Gakuhou says miserably, “the teachers” of course, every single one of them were gossips and would love to tattle on Gakushuu’s life, “have told me about the general reaction to your designation and-”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Gakushuu interrupts. He’d already heard plenty about it.

“Fine,” Gakuhou sniffs, “but don’t come whining to me when Alphas are clawing at your feet.”

--

“Thanks,” Gakushuu says, “I appreciate it, and you are very nice, but I’m not interested.”

Gakushuu is sure that Gakuhou fucking jinxed his life, because what proceeds is what can be called the worst three weeks of Gakushuu’s existence thus far. He's somehow gotten more propositions from than when he was an Alpha.

“Oh come on,” the senior (from a different high school, how did he even hear about it?) who he’d spoken to for maybe ten minutes at some visiting school fair that Gakushuu hd to go purely for student council appearances purposes, drops the fake smile. 

Gakushuu tries to project imposing and powerful but it seemed that no one took him seriously anymore. He hadn’t changed a single aspect about himself but everybody is acting like he did.

“No thank you,” Gakushuu hisses.

The first time, Gakushuu insulted them until he made the Beta cry. The second time, he just kneed them in the crotch. Gakushuu doesn’t manage to get this far the third time round, and Akabane is on the Alpha before Gakushuu can blink, animosity rolling off him.

The Alpha bolts.

“I didn’t need your help,” Gakushuu says. He crosses his arms.

“I know,” Akabane says. He shifts awkwardly. Gakushuu hasn’t seen head or tail of the guy since three weeks ago when Akabane started avoiding him like the plague, no doubt because of their classroom encounter. Gakushuu’s not sure if he was more angry or embarrassed by being manipulated. 

But Akabane just saved him from getting a demerit for assault. “Thank you,” Gakushuu says graciously.

“It’s whatever,” Akabane mutters. Both of them head down the hallway, and Gakushuu registers how people part way for Akabane the way they used to for him and how some of the Omegas are eyeing Gakushuu with an emotion he identifies as jealousy but he’s not too sure why. But more intriguingly, Alphas give him wide berth.

Or rather, they give Akabane wide berth. 

Gakushuu thinks.

--

At the school gate, Akabane gives the world's most stilted goodbye and heads off in the other direction, but Gakushuu slides closer to Akabane before he escapes and says “walk me home.”

Akabane turns red. “W-what?”

“Walk me home,” Gakushuu repeats. He nods in a direction, Akabane follows his gaze and scowls at the Alphas unabashedly staring. Gakushuu notes with a sour awe that they avert eye contact. He’s not too bothered by them, but he has something of importance to discuss with Akabane and a ‘reason’ to get Akabane alone is presented well so he’s going to take it. It works, because even back then the trouble Akabane got into was for beating up other bullies, so he'd always had this protective streak in him. 

“Come on,” Akabane says. He gently nudges Gakushuu and leads him away and they walk in the direction to Gakushuu’s house. The silence that falls between them is awkward.

“Hey,” Gakushuu starts, “do you get bothered by omegas a lot?”

“Tch.” Akabane snorts, “I do. You’re really causing me a lot of trouble here, Asano, we used to take the brunt of these things together! Now everyone is bothering me instead of you.” 

“And I suppose it’s starting to be an inconvenience,” Gakushuu says.

“Yeah,” Akabane scoffs. “Not as bad as you probably have it, though. Sucks to be you.”

Gakushuu shrugs. The silence continues. 

“I propose,” Gakushuu says, “a countermeasure. A solution, to both our problems.”

“Go on,” Akabane says.

Gakushuu says, “we date-”

Akabane promptly trips over his own feet and faceplants to the ground. Gakushuu watches, wholly unimpressed, as he clambers up and dusts his pants and then says, “w-what?!”

“We don’t really date, idiot,” Gakushuu snaps. “We just project an illusion of us being in a relationship and people leave us alone.”

“Fake-dating,” Akabane says. He rubs his cheek. “That… doesn’t sound that bad. Why me, though? Wouldn’t you rather ask Sakakibara?”

“He’s my best friend,” Gakushuu wrinkles his nose. “Besides, Ren may have social standing, but your strength outmatches anyone in the school by far and nobody will try anything funny with you.”

“Flattered,” Akabane deadpans. “And since you’re such a pretty Omega that’d rip anyone to shreds, no other Omega will try competing with you for my attention?”

Gakushuu doesn’t blush at being called pretty, at all. “Naturally,” he says. 

Akabane looks considering for a moment.. “Alright then. I accept your proposal,” he says, just as they turn the corner and walk up to the Asano estate. Then suddenly he's awkward again, but that's okay, so is Gakushuu. ”I'll, um, text you?"

"Sure,” Gakushuu says. Remains composed as he walks up to his house and turns back to see Akabane give him a small wave, then closes the door and silently heads up to his room and screams in his pillow.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck,” he wails. Why did he suggest that? This could only end in disaster.

--

When Akabane steps into the classroom the next morning, he makes eye contact with Gakushuu and smiles at him, then heads to his seat. Compared to the radio silence and the whole disappearing act he had been pulling for the past month, this is a new and exciting development and Gakushuu is immediately swamped with curiosity.

Akabane looks incredibly amused at the onslaught of attention Gakushuu is getting, and he hides it behind his phone. 

“None of your business,” Gakushuu says. During their next break the Virtuosos approach him, all perplexed about Akabane’s behaviour. 

“What was up with him?” Ren asks. 

“We’re… friends,” Gakushuu says unconvincingly.

“He's been avoiding you and now you guys are buddy-buddy again?” Seo demands.

Koyama and Araki frown in Akabane’s general direction. The latter is sipping strawberry milk and scrolling through his phone, and has some sixth sense of when he’s being discussed about because he looks up and raises an eyebrow. 

Ren and Seo, because they’re confrontational Alpha idiots, narrows their eyes at Akabane. Gakushuu knows that his friends are just looking out for him, but he really wants to hit them.

“What?” Akabane demands from across the classroom, crossing his arms. Everyone in his vicinity sit down on their chairs.

“No,” Gakushuu says. “If anyone starts a fight, I’m going to be pissed .”

Surprisingly Akabane backs down first, relaxing his posture. Ren and Seo are thrown off enough that they don’t react when the redhead leaves his seat and saunters up to them.

“Sorry about that, Shuu,” Akabane drawls. Which has mixed connotations in itself, between the two prior to Gakushuu’s Omega status it had been regarded as a teasing nickname to piss Gakushuu off, (and piss Gakushuu off it did). But societal constructs were put in place and Akabane, an Alpha, addressing Gakushuu, an omega, as “Shuu”? 

Well, the very comprehensive text contract they drew out yesterday marked "Shuu" as one of the seven approved nicknames that Akabane is allowed to address Gakushuu as..

“You should be,” Gakushuu says. He glances between the Virtuosos, the unashamed gawping from the peanut gallery, and Akabane. Then he strolls up and brushes against Akabane.

Maybe they should have practiced this beforehand. Proximity is weird, awkward, and Gakushuu kind of wants to crawl into a hole.

Akabane turns a very pleasant shade of pink.  “You want anything from the cafeteria?” he asks, eyes twinkling with mischief, and Gakushuu can tell he’s equally as delighted from the reactions garnered as Gakushuu is. Although he was probably enjoying the look on Seo’s and Ren’s face the most, looking like they just watched Gakushuu eat a live bird in front of them.

“No thank you,” Gakushuu says. 

"Okay, Shuu." Akabane walks out of class. And for the first time in three weeks, nobody says a word, and Gakushuu is at absolute zen.

--

That night, Gakuhou stabs his dinner with an unnecessary amount of malicious intent against his vegetables. Gakushuu makes it through five minutes of the ten minute lecture about chastity and choice of romantic partners, slams his hands down and says, “I can date whoever I want, and I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Gakuhou says, “but Akabane? Akabane? ”

Gakushuu’s not really dating the boy, but he feels offended on his behalf for reasons he cannot fathom why. Probably because of the crush he never really stopped having but refuses to acknowledge. “What’s wrong with Akabane?” He demands.

“He’s insane!” Gakuhou yells.

Gakushuu explodes. “You’re insane!” He doesn’t quite flip the table but it’s a near thing, and stews as he finishes the rest of dinner.

--

Word spreads around school fast enough and jealousy directed from fellow Omegas increases tenfold but it’s a blissful three days of harassment-free school hours, so Gakushuu thinks it’s worth it. Until he gets cornered in the classroom during a break by an Alpha senior whose name he doesn’t recall, but he remembers rejecting the hell out of that guy.

Did these idiots seriously think Gakushuu was any less stronger than he had been just because of his designation? It takes an embarrassing three seconds to bring the guy to his knees and Gakushuu makes sure to swing the door super hard to hit him in the face as he leaves. 

It’s late afternoon and most students have left campus but the ones remaining jump out of Gakushuu’s way. It’s not even Akabane’s association, Gakushuu can smell the rage coming off from himself, and he storms all the way back to class to retrieve his thingsso he can go home and destroy a punching bag,

and loses his resolve the moment he steps into the classroom and sees Akabane sitting at the back, chewing on a bun. Akabane looks up and his smile drops, and he says, “what’s wrong?”

Gakushuu’s exhausted .

Akabane is up on his feet.  “Shuu?”

“Why can’t people just leave me alone?” Gakushuu laments.

“Oh,” Akabane says. He grips Gakushuu’s shoulders gently, but his voice is hard when he says, “who were they? What happened? I’m going to rip them apart, I’ll-”

“Shut up,” Gakushuu mumbles. He closes the distance and drops his head on Akabane’s shoulders. “There won’t be any ripping apart.”

--

"Worked well for a bit," Gakushuu sighs. "But some people don't really think we're dating."

"Why not?" Akabane says.

"Scent," Gakushuu says. "I don't smell enough like you."

Akabane crosses his arms. "Many people aren't big into getting physical this early into a relationship."

Gakushuu shrugs. "Of course." Doesn't stop the rumors from flying, though.

"Oh," Akabane says, voice funny.

Gakushuu stares. "What?"

Akabane shakes his head unconvincingly. "Nothing."

The weekend follows and Gakushuu doesn’t leave the house. He recuperates from too much attention and Ren comes over for a few hours on Saturday to do homework with him, and bolts when Gakuhou seems particularly menacing.

Monday morning comes and Gakushuu has mostly forgotten about Akabane’s weirdness, until the latter arrives in class and makes a beeline for Gakushuu’s seat.

Gakushuu eyes him warily. Akabane shrugs off his blazer and drops it in Gakushuu’s lap and says, “put it on.”

Gakushuu blinks once, twice. Ignores the gaping from the class and says, “you mean your non-school sanctioned blazer?”

“Yes,” Akabane says forcefully, and oh, it’s the scent thing. Gakushuu turns over the fabric in his hands, and he doesn’t quite wear it but he drapes it over his shoulders like a cape. Akabane looks pleased, and honestly a little weird without his classic blazer.

None of the teachers say anything but Gakushuu knows, with 100% certainty, that Gakuhou will hear about this. It does work, in a weird sort of way, he returns the blazer after class but has Akabane’s scent in his nose and following him around for the rest of the day, he gets more stares than usual but nobody comes close. It’s amazing .

“Thank you,” Gakushuu tells him as they walk home, now a routine he’s appreciating. Akabane has his blazer folded over his arm and he’s holding it with an odd look and he says, “no problem.”

And then Akabane smiles. This is no good for Gakushuu's heart, he thinks.

--

And then of course this goes on until it becomes real dating.

Chapter Text

Hedgehogs

"Because you're prickly," Karma says, bouncing the little toy in the air to emphasize his point. "See?"

"No," Asano says. 

"Sakakibara," Karma calls, and waves the hedgehog plush under his nose. "Does this look like Asano?"

"Yes," Sakakibara says, not missing a beat, and turns back to his book. Asano makes a offended noise. 

“Here,” Karma says. He’s still holding the toy out. Asano stares at it for a long moment, then gingerly takes the toy from his hands, and squeezes it once. 

“Thanks, I guess,” Asano says.

“Sure,” Karma says. 

Asano pats the hedgehog once on it's puffy little head. It stares at him unblinkingly. He feels a little silly.

--

(Karushuu, established relationship) They get into an actual physical fight

Karma’s face is burning as he walks to his classroom but it’s not like he can turn back time or anything, and everyone in the hallways already saw him and are whispering among themselves, so Karma says “fuck it” and drops the large bouquet of flowers in front of Asano’s shocked face.

“The fuck?” Asano says, startled enough to swear in public.

“Sorry,” Karma mumbles.

Asano's left arm is in a sling. He turns to look at him with a comical expression.

“I’ve been a shitty boyfriend,” Karma says awkwardly, like 3-A isn’t gaping with the rest of the cohort staring through the window, “but,” he takes a deep breath, “I love you.”

Asano’s face is red. His jaw drops.

“Don’t break up with me,” Karma pleads.

Asano blinks once, twice. Then he starts crying.

Karma immediately backpedals. "Sorry, I-"

“I took fucking powerful painkillers this morning and I’m high as a kite,” Asano says in between hiccups, “you can’t come… say that while I’m like this!”

A laugh bubbles in Karma’s throat. Asano is glaring with tears rolling down his cheeks, he’s blushing and his face is puffed up, and Karma thinks, adorable, gorgeous.

“Fuck you,” Asano mumbles. “Get these flowers away from me.”

“We’ll talk about this when you’re better,” Karma says, and gives Asano a kiss on the forehead.

Gakuhou should probably let Gakushuu miss a day of school instead of sending him to class on drowsy medication

--

ItonaShuu, established relationship

"Remember how we first met?” Gakushuu says.

Of course he remembers. How could Itona forget? “I kicked your face in during pole-toppling.”

“Is it too late for ‘are you an angel’ jokes?” Gakushuu laughs. He’s threading his fingers through Itona’s hair. “White hair, bright eyes, falling from the sky.”

“If you said that to me earlier I would have never talked to you,” Itona says.

“You were so shy,” Gakushuu agrees. 

“Give me a break,” Itona says.

--

(Angst) Gakuhou dies, for some reason

For all the bite and bark and big talk Gakushuu had spat, fighting tooth and nail for recognition and success and the vague idea of “domination”, he really did love his father. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he was torn when he heard the news, seated ramrod straight on the chair listening to the doctor and holding his head high when his father cradled his cheek and told him not to cry.

How the mighty fall from grace, Gakushuu thinks bitterly, once a powerful man losing his school and title and now bedbound, deadline on his life. He still works, typing on his laptop and going “what’s the point of sitting around doing nothing?” and pretending he is interested in reports all day long. Gakushuu lets him believe that, dying man’s whims and all, scribbling into the blanks of his worksheets by his father’s bedside and listening to the heart monitor go beep, beep, beep.

When he finds out the adoption papers go through, well, that’s the first and only time Gakushuu cries. He screams bloody murder and all the insults come pouring out, as Gakuhou sits there in silence, the nurses rush in and Gakushuu yells at them until his voice goes hoarse and kicks his chair until it goes screeching against the opposite wall. Then sobs in his father’s chest, Gakuhou’s fingers running through his hair, and he says “I hate you, I hate you,” and he wishes he means it.

Tamiko kisses him on the forehead. She was the house’s caretaker but his legal guardian now, until Gakushuu turns 20 and the assets go to him. The other two caretakers Husare and Jin are there too, unwilling to leave at this juncture. They’re like his other parents, watching Gakushuu grow up since he was three, but now Gakushuu only wants one.

Gakushuu doesn’t feel any bit of the sixteen years old that he is curled up by his father’s side. They’re back at home and Gakushuu feels like he’s five again, face buried in Gakuhou’s chest as he croons softly about how good Gakushuu is being and how big he’s gotten. Gakuhou says, “I’m sorry,” and Gakushuu says, “ I’m sorry,” and Gakuhou presses his lips to his forehead.

Gakushuu doesn’t cry. 

--

Literally just this sentence

Gakushuu was a straw puppet tied to a throne, and Karma stoked the fire.

--

(Karushuu, established relationship) Not really a sickfic

Gakushuu hears rocks pelting off his window. He blinks at the time, it’s early afternoon and school would’ve just let out but who the fuck would bother him by throwing goddamn rocks at his window?

Okay, he can think of one person.

He pads onto his balcony, where Karma is holding a pile of small pebbles and getting ready to throw the next. He brightens up at Gakushuu’s appearance. “Did you just wake up?’ Karma eyes his bedhead, “is that why you missed school today? Sleeping in, without me?”

“Fuck off,” Gakushuu says. “Why did you come here?”

“I missed you,” Karma says, smiling and plain-as-day, and Gakushuu groans, burying his face in his hands. It’s cheesy and sweet and unfair. Who does Karma think he is, coming in and dropping lines like that? It wasn’t even a particularly good line. 

“You okay?” Karma sounds distinctly worried, “are you still sick? Do you have medicine, need me to run and pick anything up?”

“It's just a bit of a fever, I'm fine,” Gakushuu says, cringing internally at how affectionate he sounds. 

“You didn’t go to school,” Karma whines from his backyard.

"If I go to school I’ll just be an exhausted hot mess all day.”

“Hot mess is right,” Karma’s voice carries over, and then there’s a tense silence that radiates embarrassment from the both of them.

--

I technically wrote more of this but this was the first snippet I started out with

"Hey, Bitch-sensei," Nakamura says. "Why are you staring at the board so hard?"

"Is it that confusing?" Takebayashi says. "I mean, we learnt that last year."

"Like I went to school ," Bitch-sensei sniffs, folding her arms across her chest.

--

I made them fight so much in the early days where I wrote them

"Congratulations, school president," Karma drawls, "you won the elections by a landslide. " 

Asano still has the pleasant, stiff smile on his face. "Thank you, Akabane."

"Hm," says Karma. "School let out hours ago, there's no one left in this building but us, you don't have to pretend to be nice."

Asano scowls at him. "What do you want, Akabane?" 

Well I mean not that I stopped making them fight, but. 

--

The single sentence I cut out from my Kayano-Itona friendship fic

She’s a bit of a masochist, if Itona’s impression of her is what he remembers. Ryoma tells him that he’s a terrible judge of character, and Kirara smacks him over the head for that.

--

I published a fic "Strawberries" for Karushuu Week 2020 (you should read it to have context) and cut out this tiny part also ItoShuu indulgence

“Ugh,” Karma says. “I thought Kayano was supposed to take you back.”

“I saw her jump Shiota just now,” Asano says, face red. “I wasn’t going to intrude.” 

“That’s no fair!” Itona whines, from where he’s nestled into Asano’s side (Karma has never seen him this snuggly with anyone ever, not even Terasaka.) “You’re supposed to be a lightweight!” 

“I was a lightweight,” Asano says affectionately, and wow, Karma feels like he’s intruding on something here. “I can’t get drunk off my ass every time I have a business function now, can I? It pays to be the sober person in the room.”

“Yeah,” Karma says. “We should get going.”

“Right,” Asano says, and hauls Itona to his feet. “I hope I won’t be intruding.”

Karma wrinkles his nose. He may not want a stranger in his house but he’s not quite mean enough to send him back to Nagisa and Kayano’s. They’ll be doubly pissed at him if he 1. makes their guest go off on his own in the middle of the night and 2. Interrupts their happy fun time.

That sounds incredibly sad. Karma’s a happy, single man.

Something Asano says makes Itona laugh and yeah, no, fuck this guy. 

“Come on, you two lovebirds,” Karma grumbles.

Itona giggles. “No we’re not.”

“Yeah,” Asano giggles back. “You were totally into that Terasaka guy.”

Itona gasps. “How did you know?” He’s such an expressive drunk. “You’re so perceptive, Shuu.”

--

More 0 context Karushuu

Gakuhou, coming back from work, finds his son being utterly smothered by Akabane as they cuddle on the couch, and sighs. Goes to the kitchen to grab a drink and the tiny spray bottle that the housekeeper uses for the herbs and spices growing by the windowsill, comes out and spritzes the two on the couch.

Akabane yelps. Gakushuu makes a hissing noise, and glares.

--

Almost a time travel fic 

This is stupid. Gakushuu only has one feasible option left and he’s avoiding it because he’s a coward. But whatever, right? He’s defied the laws of space-time and he’s going to have a hell of a thesis to write when he gets back, he shouldn’t be afraid of meeting his dead mother of over a decade whose now, very much alive. 

Yeah, no, Gakushuu’s terrified.

He’s an Asano, for god’s sake. Scared or not, he should hold his head up with confidence and step into the battle arena without faltering.

Nope. Not a chance.

Chapter Text

If this fic seems very familiar... not to worry, that's because it is. This is essentially how my other Karushuu fic, Wordplay, could have gone! 

Wordplay is about Karma and Gakushuu working together (and getting together). I wrote this version first, where their relationship went waaay more complicated and they had like 3 concurrent projects instead of 1 ongoing, but halfway through I realized that it went out of control so I did major cuts. It's very thematically different, but you will see similarities between the scenes and writing.

What's your favorite color?

(You might recognize this from chapter 3 of Wordplay!)

(If you want, you can go and reread chapters 1 and 2 before this.)

Ever since they’d exchanged numbers, Karma calls Asano every so often when he’s bored, mostly on the weekends. Asano humors him a little, even though sometimes he likes to hang up abruptly. He thinks Asano secretly likes their calls but he’s too uptight and tsundere to admit it. 

“Stay on the line? I’m bored.”

“You have something to do, and so do I.”

“Well, doing stuff is always better with company. That’s why people study in groups, right?” Karma cajoles.

He imagines Asano rolling his eyes. “Fine.”

“Awesome. Hey, what are you doing now?”

“Our biology project.”

“That’s due in a month!”

“Do you always procrastinate your work?” 

“Is that what you think of me, Asano? A lazy, unappreciative genius?”

“Perhaps the first two?”

“Thanks,” Karma says dryly. “What’s your project on?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m researching possible topics.”

“Heh, well I’m going to do mine on chromatophores.”

“Oh?” Asano sounds mildly interested.

Karma’s started dropping little tidbits about his time in class 3-E, because Asano keeps bugging him for it, and also because he uses it as bait to get Asano to do petty little nothings. Sometimes he feels ever so generous and tells him something about Koro-sensei or assassination unprompted, and feeling rather lazy, this is one of those times. “Did you know Koro-sensei could change colors? And make circles and crosses on his face?”

“No, I did not. You realize we didn’t even touch on anything about animal coloration during the lessons, right?”

“Well, Kohoki-sensei said we could research any topic related to nature.”

“Hm. Alright.”

“Oh hey, who are you working with? A maximum number of four in a group, right? Which one of the Big Five are you throwing out?” 

“Myself. I’m working on it individually. You?

“Oh, same! I guess we’re both loners.”

“Hm.”

There’s a pause on the line. Karma stares up at his ceiling, fingers drumming on his stomach as he thinks of something to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” 

“How long have you known me?”

Asano sighs over the line. Karma snickers a little, but there’s no reply, so he prompts Asano again. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“What’s your favorite color?” 

“I don’t have one.”

Karma’s about to laugh, but Asano sounds so serious that he does a double-take. Who the hell doesn’t have a favorite color? “Seriously?” 

“Yes. Having one is meaningless.”

Was this boy for real? “No, it’s not!”

“What are the benefits of liking a color more than the others, then?” 

“Well, um, when you like a color, well okay, no!” Karma wracks his brain for something to say. “It’s about the memories and personal experiences attached to that colour. Like maybe it reminds you of a certain time you had fun, or a person you like, or your favorite food. Not everything needs to be inherently beneficial.”

“Sounds sentimental,” Asano says dryly.

Karma rolls his eyes. “That’s the point.”

“Well, I don’t have a favorite color.”

“We’ll find you one.”

Asano sounds confused. “A favorite color?”

“Yes. You probably already have a favorite color, you just don’t realize it.”

“You’re ridiculous. This is a waste of time.”

“Aww, come on, Asano,” Karma says. He rolls onto his stomach and reaches for his laptop. Colors, he types into the search bar, then feels a little silly.

“How would you even find my favorite color?”

“I’ll figure it out. You have a biology project topic yet?”

“Not since three minutes ago.”

“Hey, want to group up with me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’d be fun! Two top students, working together. And since we’re doing it on color, we’ll be seeing tons, so we can find your favorite!”

He imagines Asano’s scrunched up face of distaste. “That’s… a terrible idea.”

“Come on! It’d be great,” Karma says. “We’ll ace it, not that you’re worried about that.”

“I’m more concerned about a murder happening during the process.”

“You love me too much to kill me,” Karma jokes. 

“I… really don’t.”

“So? Project partners?”

“What aspect of chromatophores do you even want to look at, anyways?”

“Real life applications seem pretty cool. All the advancements we could make in military technology with such camouflage capabilities, so you can blend into a wall when you need to escape from a crazed assassin bent on getting revenge. Or even just for aesthetics.”

There’s a curious lilt in Asano’s voice. “I’m sensing there’s a story there.” 

“You truly are a genius, Asano.”

“Alright, let’s work together, then. I’ll add you to the shared folder.”

A shared folder? How funny. Karma huffs out a laugh. “Fancy. Do you and the other four have a shared folder too? 

“We do.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re as much of a nerd as we are, regardless of whether you want to admit it. I do need to get some work done. I don’t mind keeping this line open but you have to shut up.”

Karma groans. Why was Asano such a workaholic? “That’s so boring! All I’ll hear is keyboard typing and breathing noises.”

“...do you really want company?”

“Yes! I’m lonely, Asano.”

“Sigh.”

“Well? Be my white knight? Break me out of my tower of solitude!”

“Okay, fine, hang up. I’ll text you my address.”

(Chapter 4!)

Gakushuu kind of has an idea on why he invited Akabane over. 

Sitting across his father during dinner and feeling more alone than when he was the only person at home, sometime ago when Akabane offhandedly mentions his parents overseas with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and the deathly silence in the car rides to and fro school so unnerving that Gakushuu chooses to walk.

Gakushuu is no stranger to an empty house.

Akabane practically makes home on the bed, sprawling out and burying his face in Gakushuu’s sheets.

“So soft,” Akabane mutters, “I’m stealing your bed.”

“Seems like it,” Gakushuu replies. Akabane says something else that Gakushuu can’t make out but seems like it was directed more towards his pillows than him, so Gakushuu leaves him be and starts typing out the essay he’s working on.

Akabane finally gets to the process of pulling his laptop out of his bag and opening it, lying on his stomach on Gakushuu bed. He starts typing.

Gakushuu watches him. Akabane has a tongue sticking out and hair falling in front of his eyes, which irritates him mildly such that he keeps pushing it back. 

He goes back to his essay. Akabane is uncharacteristically silent but it’s a comfortable quiet, soft typing and turning of book pages as background noise. 

A little bit later, Akabane starts humming. It’s too low for Gakushuu to recognize what it is. 

Gakushuu looks up when the humming stops, to see Akabane lying on his side and staring at Gakushuu with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. 

“What?” Gakushuu asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Nothing,” Akabane mutters, face a little red. Then, “thanks.”

“Hm?”

“Letting me come over.”

“Real quiet back at your house, huh,” Gakushuu comments, side-eyeing Akabane, who stiffens.

“Yeah,” Akabane says awkwardly.

Gakushuu presses several keys. Akabane is still staring at him thoughtfully. Gakushuu decides to test the waters.

“When do your parents come back?”

“I don’t know. Anytime, really. Sometimes they bother to text me but most of the time I just go home from school and they’re already there.”

Gakushuu turns around on his chair. Akabane has his gaze down on his keyboard, his hands wringing together.

He wasn’t just the nonchalant, devil-may-care delinquent everyone made him out to be. Gakushuu knew that for a fact, but having it played out instead of written down was starkly different.

There was no point in bringing up his own father, not to make something like this a competition, nor to show sympathy. Gakushuu himself would hate anyone who tried to pity him, and there was no doubt that Akabane would, too.

“That sucks,” Gakushuu settles on saying.

Akabane laughs, unbiddenly. “It does.” He looks at Gakushuu, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Then he goes back to typing, staring at his computer. Gakushuu turns back to his own work and a companionable silence falls between them.

“Hey,” Akabane starts, a while later, “what do you think of this?”

“Hm?”

“This,” Akabane says. Gakushuu turns around, and Akabane has a screen displaying multiple shades of green. 

“What?” Gakushuu raises an eyebrow.

“Green not your fancy?”

“Is this about my favorite color?” 

“Yep,” Akabane furrows his brow at the palette. “Yeah, I figured green wasn’t your thing. Just wanted to narrow it out.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” Akabane pops the p. “Green’s not really my color either.”

 “What’s yours?” Gakushuu asks, slightly curious.

“Yellow,” Akabane decides.

“3-E’s teacher?” Gakushuu guesses.

Karma smiles at him. “Something like that.”

“Hm.” Gakushuu says. He thinks for a bit.

“Want to go out?” Akabane asks.

“Sorry?” Gakushuu looks up, questioningly. 

“For lunch,” he clarifies. 

“Oh,” Gakushuu says, “I think Tamiko cooked for us.”

“Your housekeeper?” Akabane rolls onto his back. “Your dad at work?”

“School management never gets recess breaks, not even on weekends, apparently,” Gakushuu says, flatly. It’s not a funny joke but Akabane snorts.

“What did she make?” Akabane asks, “you asked her to make lunch for me?”

“Coming over at ten in the morning, I assumed you were staying over for at least one meal,” Gakushuu tells him.

“At least one? What if I stay over for two?” Akabane rolls to the middle of the bed, and sprawls out. He closes his eyes.

Gakushuu finds himself watching the rise and fall of Karma’s chest, and the way his eyelashes flutter shut. “If you want to,” he says mildly, “father is usually back for dinner.”

“Yeesh,” Akabane huffs. “Let’s go out for dinner then. You ever been to that western restaurant on fifth street?”

“Across the florist?”

“Yeah, next to those kitschy hipster gift shops,” Akabane says.

“That place is a tourist trap,” Gakushuu says.

“Food’s still good,” Akabane says. “This is too comfortable. I’m going to take a nap.”

“It’s almost lunch,” Gakushuu reminds.

“Lunch can wait,” Akabane yawns. He flips onto his stomach and pillows his head with his arms. Then Gakushuu hears soft breathing. 

He waits a few minutes. “Are you really asleep?” 

“Not with you talking,” comes Akabane’s muffled reply. “You should nap, too.”

“What, with you?” Gakushuu raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” Akavane looks up and grins saucily, “I’ve been trying to get into your bed for a whole year. What’s the point without you in it?”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. “Do you ever get bored of this?”

“Of what?” Akabane asks innocently, eyes wide.

“This,” Gakushuu gestures weakly to nothing, “thing.”

“Honey, babe,” Karma starts, “sweetie-”

“Yes, exactly, that,” Gakushuu says, slightly frustrated. “Plenty of girls in Kunugigaoka would gladly go out with you, bad boy reputation or not, actually, maybe because of the bad boy reputation, but-”

“I’m gay as fuck, Asano,” Akabane interrupts hotly, then flushes a deep shade of red.

Gakushuu shuts his mouth. Opens it again. “Oh,” he gets out. Then, “do you actually like me?”

Akabane shrugs. “Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.” He’s stiff and seems uncomfortable.

Gakushuu makes a decision. “Fair enough.” He places Akabane’s laptop on his table and lies down on the bed next to him. 

“What?” Akabane looks genuinely confused, “are you doing?”

“Taking a nap,” Gakushuu says, “were you not suggesting that just now?” 

Akabane’s eyes are wide. “I, I, I’m gay,” he splutters.

Gakushuu stares at him, deadpan. “I’m blonde,” he says back.

At that, Akabane collapses back onto the bed. He bites his lip and frowns, curling up next to Gakushuu. 

Gakushuu stares. Akabane squeezes his eyes shut and takes a long shuddering breath. 

“You okay?” Gakushuu asks softly. 

“No,” Akabane mutters. “Can we cuddle?”

“We’re an inch away from cuddling,” Gakushuu says. He’s not sure if it’s a yes or a no. He’s not sure if he wants to say yes or no. 

Akabane makes that decision for him. He wraps himself around Gakushuu’s arm and shoves his face into his shoulder. 

Gakushuu stares. Then he shifts to get into a more comfortable position and feels Akabane respond in turn, and then they’re pressed together, Akabane’s head on Gakushuu’s chest and their legs tangled.

Gakushuu’s hand hovers above Akabane’s head, hesitantly. Then he pressed down and runs his fingers in his hair and Akabane lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Are you gay?” Akabane asks.

“I’m bisexual,” Gakushuu tells him.

“Nice to know I have a chance if I decide to like you,” Akabane says nonsensically.

“You’re a nuisance,” Gakushuu says automatically.

“And yet I still got you to sleep with me.”

This is pretty much where the big deviation begins, I think

Akabane stirs. Gakushuu blinks bearily, sees Akabane on his shoulder, and glances at the clock. Barely an hour has passed. 

“Wake up,” Gakushuu nudges the sleeping boy.

“Ngh,” Akabane says. 

“I’m hungry,” he says, “up.”

“Ngh,” Akabane says, again. He rolls off Gakushuu and continues to doze.

“Wake up,” Gakushuu says. He sits up and pokes Akabane in the side. 

Akabane swats at his hand. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Gakushuu cajoles, “lunch is waiting.”

Akabane lets out a yawn, revealing his sharp canines, then snuffles back into the sheets. It’s pretty cute, reminds Gakushuu of a sleepy cat. 

“Up,” Gakushuu says. He kicks Akabane off the bed and listens to the satisfying sound of a large thump and a muffled swear. 

Tamiko is puttering around the kitchen. “Saw you boys asleep and didn’t want to disturb,” she says teasingly. Gakushuu flushes.

“Ma’am,” Akabane greets, a little embarrassed.

“I’m reheating lunch,” she says, “any dinner plans?”

“We’re thinking of going out,” Gakushuu tells her.

“Avoiding your father?” Tamiko guesses.

“Why else?” Gakushuu rolls his eyes. Akabane blinks at this exchange. 

“He’s nice,” Tamiko says mildly. She sets plates in front of them. “It’s curry chicken today. I’ve already eaten. There’s rice and bread. Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Gakushuu says. 

“Drinks?”

“Fine.”

“Not you, our guest. You are?”

“Uh, Karma Akabane.”

“Well, Mr Akabane, is water alright? Would you prefer juice? Soda?”

“You can just call me Karma,” Karma smiles, “water is great.”

Tamiko hums. She gives both Karma and Gakushuu an affectionate pat on the head and saunters out. 

“She’s nice,” Akabane says.

“Mhm,” Gakushuu agrees. He watches Akabane as they eat. It’s a little surreal, sitting next to someone during a meal as opposed to across them.” 

“What about this?” Akabane points.

“What?” 

“The wall,” Akabane says, “the color. That blue?”

“We repaint every once in a while,” Gakushuu tells him.

“What about other blues?” Akabane asks, “the plate?”

Gakushuu looks down at his crockery. “It’s an okay blue,” he supposes.

Akabane looks deep in thought. If anyone knew him enough, and Gakushuu would consider himself one of those people, they would know that a plotting Akabane meant trouble. 

(And yes, I meant it when I said I accidently wrote myself into a hole and made this WAY more complicated than I could manage)

Karma dreams of himself and his parents, and then he wakes up with dried tears . 

He doesn’t expect to see a multitude of missed calls and texts. He expects even less that they’re all from Asano.

They’re all apologies, or what Karma thinks is Asano’s interpretation of an apology, at the very least.

“Are you alright?”

“Where did you go?”

“I paid the bill for us.”

“You left your jacket at mine.” 

“I’ll wash it and return it Monday.”

“Akabane?”

“You better not have done something stupid.”

“Can you at least text me back so I know you’re alive?”

(Missed Call: Assahole)

(Missed Call: Assahole)

“Karma Akabane I swear to god, you better text me back.”

“I told you to charge your phone before you left.”

(Missed Call: Assahole)

“I shouldn’t have pushed, okay?”

“If you’re mad at me, can you text Ren?”

(Missed Call: Unknown)

“I told him to drop you a call. You have his number now.”

“Akabane? Are you okay?”

“Please text me back.”

(Missed Call: Assahole)

(Missed Call: Assahole)

(Missed Call: Assahole)

(Missed Call: Blueberry)

“Nagisa says you’re alright.”

“I’ll see you monday?”

“Stay safe.”

Karma rubs his eyes. He stumbles to the bathroom, washes his face, then deliberates giving Nagisa a call, but it’s six in the morning on a Sunday and he’s starving. 

Karma vaguely remembers acidic words thrown across a restaurant table and then he’s getting up from his seat and out the door. He doesn’t quite remember what their fight was about but he hadn’t dreamt of his parents in years, so he could harbor a guess.

The jacket, Karma realizes with a sinking feeling, is one of his favorites. He makes it downstairs to shovel cereal into his mouth then opens a word document on his laptop, and starts typing. 

At eight forty three, Karma calls Nagisa, who picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” Nagisa says, voice warm, “you feeling alright?”

“No,” Karma rubs a hand over his face. 

“Asano was pretty worried,” Nagisa says, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Karma shrugs, even if Nagisa can’t see it. “I didn’t pick up my phone.”

“I know, but if you were in any actual trouble, you would have used the emergency voicemail.”

“Right,” Karma says, “what did Asano say?”

“He told me you two were talking about your parents, and he pushed you too much on something you didn’t want to say, and you yelled ‘You don’t know me at all! Stop pretending you do!’ and ran off. He didn’t say what.”

“My head still kind of hurts,” Karma mutters, “can’t recall much about it. I remember throwing bread at him.”

“That’s kind of funny,” Nagisa laughs quietly. “You want to talk about it?”

“I told him I was gay,” Karma says softly.

There’s a silence on Nagisa’s end on the line that reminds Karma of a knife edge. “That’s not why he got into a fight with you,” Nagisa says, voice low.

Karma feels a chill run up his spine. “No,” he says, “it’s not.”

“He was,” he fidgets, “surprisingly cool with it. We took a nap together.”

Nagisa sounds disbelieving. “Like, on the same bed? You went to his house?”

“Yeah,” Karma says. “He invited me over, it was weird, even though I guess I annoyed him into it. He told me,” he pauses.

“Hm?”

“Uh. It’s nothing.”

“Mhm,” Nagisa sounds unconvinced. “Okay. What next?”

“We ate lunch, did more work, then went out for dinner,” Karma runs a hand through his hair, “that hipster place on fifth with the salads that Kayano likes.”

“Tourist trap,” Nagisa mutters, then, “then?”

“Well,” Karma looks down, “he asked me where they were. My parents, that is, how long they’ve been gone and when they’ll come back. I mean, normal stuff, I was used to. I thought I was used to it. Then he asked me what, well, what I missed most about them. I couldn’t, no I didn’t, I don’t know how to answer that.”

Nagisa makes a comforting noise.

“He said,” Karma continues softly, “you can miss someone that’s still there and I mean, I feel that, I get that, but-”

“Karma,” Nagisa says.

“-he said I didn’t miss them as they were now, I missed who we used to be, and said maybe I tried so hard and did so well because I wanted to be acknowledged and remembered again by them-”

“Karma,” Nagisa says again.

“-well I don’t,” Karma snaps, “I don’t care what they think of me, I don’t. They can go to hell for all I c-care.” 

Karma’s face is wet again. 

“Maybe he wasn’t just talking about you,” Nagisa says gently.

“What are you,” Karma starts. Stops. He groans. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“You want to avoid your problems in ice cream and pillow forts?” Nagisa asks.

“You mean it?”

“Yep.”

Karma sniffles. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Nagisa says. “Give me an hour.”

“Strawberry,” Karma says.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” Nagisa tells him. Karma imagines him rolling his eyes.

--

Nagisa’s on the phone when Karma opens the door. 

“Yeah,” he’s saying, “yeah, I know.” He looks at Karma and rolls his eyes, and Karma takes a plastic bag from him. 

Nagisa stares judgmentally at Karma, gaze roaming over his body, then says, “in all honesty, he looks like shit.”

“What?” Karma says.

“Yeah, I’m with him now,” Nagisa clips the phone between his ear and shoulder and unties his shoes. “Yes, he’s alive. Just looks like the most hungover middle aged man.”

“Hey!” Karma says, slightly offended. He starts smoothing his hair down. 

There’s a pause over at Nagisa’s line. “No, he doesn’t actually drink.”

“Yes,” Nagisa rolls his eyes, “mhm, okay I’ll remind him. What? No. Jesus.”

Then, “holy shit. Are you serious?”

“Who’s that?” Karma mouths. Nagisa’s grinning, and waves a hand in Karma’s face. 

“Uh huh,” Nagisa sounds gleeful, “okay. Okay. Yes, of course, how long have you known him?”

Karma crosses his arms, and raises his eyebrow.

“Yes, okay, I think he’ll wrestle the phone from me if I talk any longer. Bye.”

The moment the call hangs, Karma does lunge to grab the device. Nagisa flips over the couch and Karma parkours over, and pins boy sans phone onto the carpet.

Karma sees the caller ID. “No,” he says.

Nagisa grins.

“Why the hell are you talking to Asano!” Karma yells. 

“He was worried,” Nagisa shrugs, “he called, not me.”

“How did he get your number?” Karma asks accusingly.

“I gave it to him.” 

“Why?!”

“Last day of school, he asked to keep in touch in case you started a hostile takeover of the school and no one knew how to stop you.”

“That’s stupid,” Karma says, unimpressed.

“Yeah,” Nagisa shrugs, “he told me he thought I was cute like, 2 days later.”

“What?!”

“We went for coffee,” Nagisa shrugs, “he said that a boy tried asking him out so he should try his luck too, but we both agreed it wouldn’t work out.”

“WHAT?!”

“He’s pretty cool, I guess,” Nagisa stares at Karma oddly, “reminds me of you, though. You two would either destroy the world, or rule it.”

“What.”

“That’s a yes to the, I knew he was bisexual,” Nagisa confirms.

“That’s,” Karma sits back, head spinning, “b-but, how, why?”

Nagisa pats his face consolingly. “We should put the ice cream in the fridge or it’d melt. Get off me.”

--

Karma’s too stunned to stay mad. His jacket is slung over his seat on Monday when he walks into class, and Asano pays him no mind aside from a brief flicker of a gaze. 

During break, Karma approaches him. “You,” he says, darts his eyes left and right to confirm they’re alone, “asked Nagisa out?!”

Asano, to his credit, doesn’t seem phased. “You know I like boys,” he says, “what’s this about?”

Karma opens his mouth. Closes it.

Asano gets the world’s most annoying smirk on his face. “You’re jealous,” he says.

“I am most definitely not,” Karma hisses. He’s blushing but he refuses to break his gaze from Asano, who takes an incredibly smug sip of his drink and leans back on his chair with his arms crossed.

“Yes you are,” Asano teases, “of who, is the question.”

“I’m not!” Karma glares harder. “I just.” He falls silent, scuffs his shoe.

“Just?” Asano prompts. 

“Shut up,” Karma says. 

Asano stands up. “I don’t like Shiota,” he says, letting his arms fall to his side, “sure, he’s still cute, but so are you.”

Karma blushes. “You think I’m cute?” 

“Half the school thinks you’re cute,” Asano says, like it’s some extremely obvious fact that it’s Karma’s own fault he doesn’t know.

“I don’t care about half the school,” Karma buries his hands into his jacket pockets. He gets where the implication lies and he feels pretty vulnerable.

Asano smiles at him. 

“Well,” Asano says.

“I think you’re cute too,” Karma admits.

“I know that,” Asano grins. It shouldn’t be as charming as it looked.

“Conceited, aren’t you?” Karma says. It comes out more acidic than he meant it to be.

Asano’s eyes soften. “I apologize, for Saturday.” 

Karma tugs his jacket tighter around him. “Whatever.”

“I should have recognized you were uncomfortable,” Asano says, and the sincerity in his voice floods like warm water and Karma shivers. “Let me make it up to you?”

Karma stares, warily. “Are you asking me out?”

“You’re always the one more brash with your advances,” Asano practically sings, and it’s clear how much he’s enjoying the reversal of roles. Karma’s a little distressed. 

“Honey,” Asano practically purrs, eyes glinting with mischief, and Karma feels his knees go a little weak. He’s very much aware that he’s being mocked, but “darling” curling off Asano’s tongue as he stares with half-lidded eyes does unwarranted things to Karma’s lizard brain.

“Stop that!” Karma yelps. He jumps backwards and crashes into another table.

Asano’s grin turns a little sharp. “Meet me after school? I’ll text you the details.”

Karma retreats to the doorway and stares, face red, a little hurt and attracted. He buries his hands in his jacket pockets and bolts.

--

Gakushuu didn’t think Akabane would come, not after cornering him in class earlier that day. Maybe he went a bit too far.

“You came,” Gakushuu says. 

“Yeah,” Akabane fidgets.

“The patrons and our waiter thought I broke up with you,” Gakushuu tells Akabane. "On Saturday."

“On the first date? Shocker,” Akabane snickers. Gakushuu shoots him a dirty look. 

Akabane heads towards the pastries on display and Gakushuu hovers at his shoulder, peering over. He gets two cakes that look way too sweet to be consumable, and hot chocolate.

Gakushuu gets a latte. He watches Akabane stuff his face and sip happily at his drink, and then blushes when Gakushuu leans forward to wipe a stray crumb off the side of his mouth. 

He can be fucking romantic if he wants to. Gakushuu is going to seduce the hell out of this boy.

You know. Just for fun. 

To prove a point?

“What are you trying to prove, even,” Akabane says, face red. 

“I don’t know,” Gakushuu admits, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“You asked me out just for the sake of it,” Akabane says, sounding sour, “because I brought up Nagisa?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gakushuu says, “besides, you asked me out first.”

“I did not!”

“You called the restaurant a date,” Gakushuu points out.

“That was a joke!” Akabane turns redder. It’s kind of cute. “Do you even like me?” He demands, crossing his arms.

“Maybe,” Gakushuu echoes Akabane’s own words back. 

“Stop being an ass,” Akabane huffs, “I’m trying to be serious here.”

Gakushuu stares. He’s aware he has the upper hand here, Akabane is visibly out of his element and has already admitted two days prior about his possible interest, so the ball is in Gakushuu’s court. He could shoot him down, but some inexplicable part of Gakushuu’s mind or heart actually lowkey likes the boy, for some reason.

Besides, Gakushuu’s pretty sure he feels the same way Akabane does, and that puts them back on the same plane on the playing field. He mourns his slight advantage just a little, but decides to go with the truth.  

“I don’t like you,” Gakushuu says plainly, shelving the strange look that crosses Akabane’s face to mull over later, “but I could.”

“What does that mean?” 

“I don’t currently want to date you, but wanting to in the future isn’t out of the realm of possibility. I could see myself getting into a relationship with you, abielt it being one driven by competition and challenge, it might even be fun.”

“I mean,” Akabane takes a breath, then relaxes into his chair. “Same, I guess. You’re not too bad.”

Gakushuu snorts. “High praise.”

Akabane flashes him a grin. Then, “so what do we do now?”

“What do we have to do?” Gakushuu raises an eyebrow.

“We both indicated a, uh, possible interest in each other,” Akabane says. He actually sounds embarrassed about it. Gakushuu rolls his eyes. 

“It’s possible,” Gakushuu says, “We now have to consider whether to entertain that possibility.”

“Do you want to?” Akabane looks warily at him.

Gakushuu returns the look. “Do you?”

Akabane opens his mouth. Closes it. Thinks. 

“You still have cake,” Gakushuu says. He drinks his latte and watches Akabane stare down at his sweets and then slowly start to eat them. He scrolls through his phone for a bit, then puts it down when he notices Akabane staring.

“What?”

“Yes,” Akabane says in determination, then turns a pretty shade of pink.

“Hm.” Gakushuu looks at him. Akabane is attractive, intelligent, and annoying in ways that might actually be endearing if Gakushuu looked at him in a different light, which, he supposes he would start to, anyways. 

“Yes too, I suppose,” Gakushuu says. Akabane smiles at him and it seems sweeter than the diabetic things he’s eating, and Gakushuu kicks him under the table.

--

Gakushuu’s in kind of a weird mood, and Gakuhou notices. Of course he notices. 

“It’s nothing,” Gakushuu says.

“It’s something,” Gakuhou narrows his eyes from across the table, “well? Spit it out.”

Gakushuu glares at him. “Since when do you care about what keeps me up at night?”

“If something’s keeping you up at night, then it’s clearly a problem,” Gakuhou counters, “you haven’t been this bothered since last year. It’s disrupting my dinner.”

“What the hell happened last year?”

Gakuhou stares, deadpan. Gakushuu groans. 

His father shoots him increasingly odd looks throughout their shared hour at the dinner table, and Gakushuu retreats to his room and throws himself on the bed. Akabane left his jacket behind again, and Gakushuu kicks it off the bed, before leaning over to pick it up and drape it over a chair. 

His sheets smell a little like both of them, because Akabane had insisted on mandatory cuddling time as an integral part of courtship, whatever that was, and pinned Gakushuu to the bed for the better part of an hour before hearing Gakuhou’s car pull into the driveway, made a face, and jumped out the window.

Gakushuu’s phone buzzes. He picks it up without checking the caller ID, and Ren’s voice floods his head. 

“You and Akabane were being real weird today,” Ren says, “everything alright with you two?”

“Might be potentially dating,” Gakushuu says.

“Might be? Potentially?”

“Yeah,” Gakushuu rolls to his feet and goes to his desk to grab his laptop, then back to the bed. “He’s possibly interested in me, and I’m possibly interested in him, so we decided to see if it would work out.”

“That’s…” Ren sounds skeptical, “weird. Possible interest?”

“I may be interested in him,” Gakushuu explains, “and he may be interested in me, but we don’t know yet. But we both agreed to test that maybe.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Ren says, “do you like him or not?”

“Possibly.”

“Oh my god,” Ren sounds exasperated, “okay, if I’m getting this right, you and him are, uh, trial dating.”

Gakushuu hums in affirmation.

“So, hypothetically, what happens if you two, uh, like the trial?”

Gakushuu snorts. “Download premium.”

The silence over the line is full of judgement. Gakushuu snickers.

“Does Akabane know what a stupid sense of humor you have?” Ren says.

“My sense of humor is the best,” Gakushuu says, “not that you’d understand. You probably pour milk before adding cereal.”

“I don’t know what that means. That’s the fifth time you’ve said that to me, I’m begging you to stop.”

Gakushuu lets a slow smirk spread across his face. “Then beg.”

The long beep that sounds when Ren hangs up is satisfying. Gakushuu scrolls through his phone and opens a text from Akabane, that features a revised list of possible date ideas, which are all stupid. He signed off the email as Possible Babe, with a emoticon heart. 

As ridiculous as it was, Gakushuu finds a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re stupid,” he texts back. 

A reply comes almost immediately. “Choose one, idiot.”

Gakushuu considers the list. The first is an outing to an art museum, which is the level of class Gakushuu can actually kind of appreciate, although he’s not sure whether Akabane would actually enjoy himself there. He thinks it’s a concession made for him, and it’s kind of sweet.

The second option is staying home and making out. Making out is in all caps, and embedded with ridiculous emojis at the end. Gakushuu actually considers the option for a beat longer, and then decides he doesn’t really want to make out with Akabane. It’s not a bad choice per say, but they’re only trial dating after all. Besides, picking that option would mean jumping the gun and indicating a higher level of interest than Akabane might not reciprocate. Even if he technically suggested it, it might be a bait.

The third option features a water park, and he thinks it’s the option Akabane would like the best. It’s the safest option, per say, because a museum offered many talking points but tended to delve into the human psyche with its content, and Gakushuu knows he and Akabane tended to clash heads with their opposing views. A water park simply provided mindless activity that didn’t need deep conversation to enjoy, and came with the added bonus of seeing Akabane shirtless.

So naturally Gakushuu picks the museum.

“Got it, maybe-baby,” Akabane replies. There’s a winky face emoticon at the end of it.

“Maybe-baby,” Gakushuu murmurs to himself. That’s actually catchy. Should he give Karma a pet name too?

“Akabaka,” he types. Ponders over it for a second, and sends. 

There’s another pause, before a message is sent back, and it simply reads “Shuuey”. It’s less creative, given that it’s just an abbreviation of Gakushuu’s first name, and yet it makes him smile anyways.

He changes Akabane’s contact name to Akabaka.

And this is as much as I got before realizing hey, I can't write the rest of any of this at all! And I scrapped all of it. It's all in bits and pieces and pretty incoherent even when put together (which is why I decided to give up on it and streamline the plot into something that actually makes sense.)

But Nagisa/Gakushuu nation let's go

Chapter Text

They deserve this

Akari sees Asano one Thursday morning, quietly leaning against a banister and watching her. She almost misses him in the crowd milling by the barricades. He’s the only one without his phone out, and he offers her a little wave when their eyes meet.

Akari smiles back, but she doesn’t head over. She’s still on the job, after all, her director calls for another take and she gets back into position.

Surprisingly, he’s still there when the crew wraps up for the day. He must have left at some point in time, Asano was holding two takeaway cups. She doesn’t see anyone that seems to be accompanying him; Akari confirms that when she walks up and one of the cups gets passed over to her hands. He’d picked a quieter corner to wait, but there were still groups pointing and whispering.

“Business boy,” Akari greets. She shakes the cup. She hasn’t seen Asano since middle school; he’d grown up quite a bit, she notices, he’d been tall back then and he’s taller now. It makes her feel a little awkward. He has a little bit of an undercut that’s growing in, it’s a nice look on him.

“Hi,” he says, “nice work.”

Akari takes a whiff of her coffee. Caramel hazelnut - “you googled me,” she says.

Asano shrugs, but he doesn’t deny it. “There’s a facebook group about the movie,” he says, tilting his head towards the phones aimed in their direction, “I’m getting papped .”

“That is not my fault,” Akari says. She takes a sip of the coffee. It’s fragrant.

“You googled me ,” Asano says, eyes twinkling.

She’d scrolled through his Wikipedia page on her five minute break. Yeah, he has one. She’s a little jealous, even though she has a page herself.

Akari rolls her eyes. “What are you doing here?” She says. It’s not that she’s annoyed to see him; they’ve never really spoken, and he was an… antagonist, for the lack of a better word, against her middle-school class and their goals. She likes to consider herself more of an anti hero - she has a redemption arc and a noble sacrifice. She’d never felt much animosity for Asano, given that his father annoyed her far more and she too was playing against her class on the chessboard, but it’s still a little strange to see him.

“I was nosy,” Asano says, “I wanted to see if Haruna Mase was really coming down to campus.”

“You’ve seen it,” Akari says.

“So I have,” Asano agrees, then, “Haruna Mase looks nice on campus.”

Despite herself, Akari feels a little smirk tug at her lips. “Flattery gets you nowhere,” she says, “not even knowing my favorite coffee order does, millions of people do.”  

“Shame,” Asano sighs, all dramatism, “and here I was thinking I was going to be compensated for my consequent lack of privacy, and twenty dollars.”

“This coffee is not twenty dollars."

“I included the bus fare, unless you wanted Starbucks from across the street, which, I’m sure said millions will come for my head if I fed you shitty chain-brand coffee.”

“You took a bus to get me coffee,” Akari says. She’s a little touched.

“To get to and from class,” Asano says, “my faculty is across campus.”

Okay, less touched. “Convenient,” she says.

Asano narrows his eyes, smiling a little. “It was ten minutes out of my way.”

“Consider me charmed,” she says. “Shouldn’t campus shuttle be free?”

“...I’ll take that coffee back now.”

“Rescinding a gift once given.” Akari huffs, holding the cup out of his reach. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

“It was four bucks,” Asano admits, “I can make up for the sixteen, if you like.”

“What, get me four more coffees?” Akari says. 

“That can be arranged,” he nods.

The next morning he’s waiting for her again, in a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up and two more takeaway cups. “You left before I could get your number,” he says, handing a cup to her.

He hadn’t asked; they’d caught up with each other’s lives until Akari had cold coffee and blamed Asano, who then promised her five. Akari squints at him, skinny jeans and mussed hair. “Are you a fuckboy?” She says accusingly. 

Asano splutters in his cup. “Yukimura,” he hisses, red blossoming on his cheek. She laughs, and enters her number in his phone.

“If I get a hundred spam calls I’ll know it’s you,” she says.

“I’ll be sure to stop at ninety-nine,” Asano tells her. 

“Who’s that?” Her co-star asks, nodding towards where Asano is now leaning against a wall at the far end of the building. “You were talking to him yesterday.”

“An old classmate,” Akari says. Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She squints at Asano, he’s definitely on his phone right now. The text is from an unknown number, and she clicks on the profile image to enlarge it. Th at’s how the undercut was supposed to look.

“He is a fuckboy,” Akari gasps. 

Benjamin looks over at her screen. “He’s cute,” he says, “for real, is he one, though? I wouldn’t mind.”

Akari shoots him a look.

Her third coffee is presented to her in the evening; Akari scowls at it. “I want sleep, idiot,” she gripes, and Asano rolls his eyes at her but holds on to it.

“My co-star has a crush on you,” she says.

Asano looks mildly interested. “Which one?”

“Benjamin Andrews,” she says, “he plays Marcus.”

“Huh,” Asano says, “cool.” He drinks a little of her coffee.

Akari squints at him. “Are you gay?”

“I’m bi,” he says. 

“Were you and Karma dating in high school?”

“I,” Asano starts, pauses, “not really. We were… something, I suppose. Did he say anything?”

“I suspected, a little, with the way he used to talk about you,” Akari says. ”Were you two...?”

“Ah, experimenting,” Asano mutters, and the blush was back again. It’s kind of cute. “We were,” he waves a hand around, “it was. Fun.”

"It was fun ,” Akari parrots. The blush deepens. “Did you two fuck?”

“Jesus,” Asano says, scarlet.

“You’re such a prude for a fuckboy,” Akari teases.

“I’m not a fuckboy!” Asano says. “What makes you- how do I- why would you think I’m a fuckboy.”

“You have an undercut,” Akari points out, then, “fuckboys have an undercut.”

“That’s not a- name me one fuckboy that has an undercut.”

“Sakakibara,” Akari says immediately.

“That’s on me, I set the bar too low,” Asano mutters to himself. He runs a hand through his hair and frowns a little to himself. “Is it weird?”

“No, you look good,” Akari says. “At least you didn’t get the weird tacky one he had. Yours is… tasteful.”

“Oh,” he says. “Thanks.” Then, “he still has that look, by the way. He thinks it makes him look suave. He tried to convince me to get one, which,” he gestures to his hair.

“I think it’s cute,” Akari says. “A little out of character. So if you’re not a fuckboy, are you a virgin?”

“My sexual experiences aren’t on either ends of a spectrum,” Asano says.

“Did you lose your virginity to Karma?” Akari says.

“What’s with you and- I’m not answering that question.”

Akari smirks at him. “Okay,” she says. “Have fun staying up. I’m filming early tomorrow.”

She only sees Asano the next afternoon. He’s in glasses.

“Oh my god,” Akari says. A conversation she had with Karma years ago comes to mind; she doesn’t remember much about it except that he blubbered a lot and maybe cried a little. Akari understands him now.

“Yeah, it’s not caramel hazelnut this time, but it’s nice, I promise,” Asano says.

“Not that,” Akari waves the coffee away. She takes out her phone and snaps a picture of Asano’s wide-eyed expression. “I dig the glasses. Wear them more.”

“My eyes are irritable this morning, I didn’t want to wear my contacts,” Asano says.

“Wear them more,” Akari repeats. “Benjamin wants to say hi.”

“I have class in a bit,” Asano says.

“Are you still ruining lives?”

“In what sense?”

Akari shrugs.

“Maybe,” Asano grins at her. “You’ve made me very popular, you know.” He taps through something on his phone, then shows it to Akari. It’s the facebook page, with photographs of the two of them. 

“Like you weren’t popular already,” Akari says. She makes a mental note to scroll through the posts in her own time.

Asano pockets his phone. “Here, tomorrow?”

“Nope,” Akari says. She stretches. “It’s my day off. I’m going to sleep in and do nothing.”

A strange look passes over Asano’s face. “Okay,” he says. “The day after, then.”

Akari looks at him, eyes narrowed a little. “Okay,” she agrees.

When she gets back to her hotel room, she stalks Asano on social media. Akari had gone to Kunugigaoka as Kayano Kaede so nobody had made the connection, and there are speculations of them being in a relationship. She snorts to herself. Asano hasn’t texted her since yesterday to give her his number. He’s kind of cute, she thinks again, but she’s not going to dwell on it.

Akari sleeps in and wakes up early afternoon the next day. Benjamin has texted her several pictures of set without her, and Asano sent her a picture of coffee.

Akari thinks for a moment. “Yes,” she types back.

He must be online, because a typing speech bubble appears next to his name. He’s sent an emoticon of a smiley, and a location pushpin emoji with a question mark next to it.

Akari huffs out a laugh. She didn’t expect Asano to be an emoji person. She sends the location tag of her hotel. 

He sends a thumbs-up emoji, then “half an hour”. What a nerd.

“Looks like you weren’t lying about sleeping in,” Asano greets, when she’s down at the lobby.

Akari flicks a lock of hair over her shoulder. It’s artfully messy , okay? “I’m in incognito,” she huffs at him.

“Sure,” he says. “That’s what it’s called.” 

She elbows him. “You’re the one to talk.”

Asano runs a hand through his hair. It somehow turns messier. “I feel attacked,” he complains, “it’s the weekend. I’m allowed to sleep in too.”

“You have an undercut ,” Akari says, “you look like an idiot.”

Asano pouts at her. They end up buying a comb from a dollar store.

“Let’s go back to mine,” Asano starts, “we can-”

“I knew you were a fuckboy,” Akari says.

“God, Yukimura,” Asano wrinkles his nose, “why do you want me to be a fuckboy so much?”

“The thought of it is funny,” Akari says, “our straight laced student council president becoming an American fuckboy.”

Asano blushes. "Shut up."

Akari snickers. “Karma sure said a lot of things to me and Nagisa back in high school, when you two-”

"Shut up!"

Akari grins at him. "Now I'm interested to know if you're as good of a kisser as he claims you are."

Akari is a movie actress. That was a cliche line to start all cliches, so she really should have expected it when Asano kisses her. His lips are soft and taste a little like coffee. He’s not the best kisser, but it’s up there.

They break apart slowly. “...That’s not what I meant,” Akari starts.

“Oh,” Asano says softly, taking a step back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s,...” Akari pauses, “I think you need more practice.”

Asano looks up, his face so red he looks offended.

“Your place,” Akari nods. 

His apartment is small and tasteful, and Akari doesn’t pay much attention to the decor. His couch is comfortable and Asano is warm and that’s all she really cares about for the next hour. She doesn't remember falling asleep but she remembers waking up disorientated, and the sun has set.

Asano is sitting at the dining table with papers spread out around him, the glasses on and a pen in his mouth. He's humming.

"You left me on the couch," Akari says.

His gaze flickers to her, distracted. "I didn't want to be presumptuous," he says. He glances briefly at a shut door, probably his bedroom. 

She touches her neck - which aches - and frowns. "You gave me a hickey."

Asano looks up again, and over her. "You didn't say no," he says cautiously.

"Yeah, it's whatever," she sighs. "It'd just be a pain to cover up tomorrow."

There was a shadow of a smirk on his lips. It goes quickly. 

"What are you doing?" Akari says. She scans her memory for Asano's work history. "Who are you working for?"

"Google," he says.

Akari rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. She scrolls through his Wikipedia again and oh, he's working for Google .

Asano is staring at her in amusement. She flips him the bird and continues scrolling. "You work in tech support."

A wave of irritability washes over his features. "Technical consultant," he says longsufferingly, the face of a man who had this conversation one time too many. 

"Do you even take computing?"

"I have credentials." Asano mutters.

Akari hums. “Feed me,” she says.

“What would you like?” Asano says. He gets up and opens the refrigerator. “I don’t have much, I’m afraid, I wasn’t expecting company. Do you want takeout or-”

“I want you,” Akari says. 

“Oh?” Asano says, and Akari watches him turn pink. “Oh.”

Akari smirks. “I mean, I also want food, but we can be cliche and make out before it arrives.”

Asano continues blushing, but he picks up the phone. “Any preference?” He mumbles.

“Strawberry,” Akari says, winking.

Asano stares at her for a beat, (face still pink), and narrows his eyes. "Did Karma tell you that line?"

Akari takes a moment to parse what he said. "Oh, oh, right. His nickname for you was strawberry. How unoriginal."

Is it weird to hook up with one of your friends' exes?

Probably yes

Chapter Text

"Emmerselda"

or: an Afterword

reflection of an illumination: 

or: an alternate retelling

There are so many ways to tell a story:

("Honestly, Gakuho," Lex says, smiling a little. "Start from the beginning.")

The start of the rest of Gakuho's life begins when Gakuho realizes he loves his son. He realizes it on October second when Gakushuu is 18 years old, on a day that begins unremarkably and ends equally so. 

And a couple of decades ago if you told him that he'd live a lifetime in every human day, he'd never have believed you, because he could have blinked and slept and stretched and a human month would have sped by. 

But there are no decades or centuries or millennia in the life Gakuho learns to live.

There are early mornings, Gakushuu humming to himself and he cooks breakfast in the kitchen. An hour goes by after he's cleaned up and then he's curled on the couch by the sitting room, flipping through pages of the book he's decided to read today. Every few minutes he flips the page, and every few seconds he takes a breath or blinks. There are afternoons when they are busy with their own work, and every so often Gakuho glances at the clock and notes that it'd be some few hours or minutes until Gakushuu returns home. At night it takes Gakushuu two minutes to brush his teeth and five minutes to wash his face. Every little thing he does, it seems like an incredibly long time, and Gakuho wonders if this is what humans feel, with the weight of their mortality. 

How much does each moment weigh to them? 

Gakuho realizes he loves Gakushuu the same way he realizes the very first time around that he would throw his life away from him. The thought comes fleetingly past his head but his heart snaps onto it and holds it there, and he jolts with that sudden knowledge, the puzzle piece clicking into his brain like he'd always known.

"Oh," he says, sounding a little quizzical, and from across the room Gakushuu looks up, curious. 

"I love you," Gakuho tells him. 

The beginning of the end of Gakuho's life is the day a deadline is put on Gakushuu's head. He's fifteen now, but on the dawn of his eighteen birthday everything ends. And up till this point one and a half decades passed by in a blink of an eye and a forever ago, and Gakushuu holds onto him with trembling fingers and hides his head in his chest. 

And then the longest three years of Gakushuu's life goes by in several lifetimes and a breath of a second, and then he's braced against the floor and watching people try and tear his baby apart - screaming, crying, and Gakushuu is calling out to him, begging them to stop, and Gakuho says that he'd do anything, anything … 

…and it somehow works. 

("This is hardly the time for this," Aina scolds lightly, but for all that she says she makes no move to stop him. 

"He's the most raw and vulnerable as he is now," Lex argues, "he'd say whatever without his propriety filter.")

Nobody makes a move to leave, because this is probably the best entertainment anyone has ever got in millennia. Gakuho feels faintly like he's the court jester given a pardon by the king but at that moment he hardly cares, whatever embarrassment he feels washed over by an overwhelming sense of relief. 

He holds Gakushuu to his chest and brings a sleeve to wipe the grime away from his forehead. He watches at Gakushuu blinks, disorientated, and reaches a bloodied hand to clutch at the lapels of Gakuho's jacket. "... Papa?" 

"Papa's here," Gakuho coos, then whips his head up to glare in the direction where laughter bursts out in, but he can't distinguish who it is through the haze of his tears. 

Aina and Lex are standing around him, peering curiously at the kid Gakuho has in his arms, and Lex has his notepad in his hands. "How do you feel?" He asks, a little too eagerly. 

Gakuho doesn't answer. He buries his nose in Gakushuu's hair. It smells like blood. 

"Aww," Lex says, and he turns around, arms outstretched, addressing Court in a way reminiscent of an overenthusiastic circus ringleader. "We can't kill him. We can't kill him! Look at how adorable they are!" 

Aina kicks him in the shin. 

"Well, they do look rather…" Lord J, leaning forward. 

"Adorable," Lady Li says, curling the world like it both offends and pleases her. 

Lex leans over and ruffles Gakuho's hair a little too hard, cementing the image of adorable . Gakuho might snap at him if not for how he and Aina have their wings spread out, separating them from the audience stands. Not that it obscures much view, but that wasn't the point. 

"Come on," Lex cajoles. Aina shoots him a dirty look and he ignores her. "The kid's so cute. He's so fluffy. Have you felt how fluffy it is?" And at this point Gakuho runs the limit of his self restraint and he growls. Lex ignores him too. 

"We're not keeping the kid because he's fluffy ," Lady Jasmine says. 

Lex is an idiot. Lex is a dumbass. Lex is getting the best big brother award. Lex says, "come on Asmi. Baby. I'll do chores for the rest of our holy matrimony for all that you have me?" 

Lady Jasmine rolls her eyes and sits back. 

"That's a four-three," Lex says. 

Gakuho sags, curling in tighter around Gakushuu, and sniffs. "Thank you." 

"You three are insufferable," Aina snaps, flaring her wings irritably.

Gakushuu doesn't wake up for three days.

The first day Gakuho spends in interrogations and the hospital and interviews, as everyone picks his brain apart and then tries to pick apart Gakushuu's.

The second day he spends in Pue getting reamed by Aina for how much of an idiot he is, watches in dismay and belated embarrassment as media of his stupid groveling is circulated everywhere for the world to see (never mind that Court cases weren’t allowed to be publicized), and on the third day he runs back to the human world with his figurative tail tucked between his legs and three unwanted guests.

"I guess this has a little cutesy sort of appeal," Bel says, poking around the nooks and crannies around Gakuho's Japan estate. 

Cutesy was not the sort of word people - humans - would use to describe Gakuho's mansion. 

"It's certainly quaint," Lex says, and Aina hums in agreement. Whatever. Not everyone can live in sprawling luxury like the two of them. He sympathizes with Lex because he spends his afternoons sweeping an estate the size of Kunugigaoka with a non magical broom. Lex has a dictation spell for him to plot his books while he does chores so he's not subjected to mind numbing boredom, and Gakuho is sure that he'd cajole his way back into Lady Jasmine's good graces within the next few decades. (Demons aren't monogamous because you can't put up with someone for all of eternity but Lex has somehow convinced someone way above his rank to pretend to be so. Gakuho spends his time with Lex both awed and terrified of him.)

"Can I have a present for my 193th birthday?" Bel says, throwing herself over Gakuho's good couch. 

"It better not be something stupid." 

"I want a blanket made from Gakushuuey's down feathers." 

"I'll roast you like a rotisserie chicken." 

"Kuho's being mean to me!" 

Aina and Lex steadfastly ignore the both of them. 

The beginning of Gakushuu's life, marks the start of the longest string of Gakuho's worst decisions.

("That's hardly true," Lex says. "That's barely two decades ago. Remember when you locked yourself in your room for three to throw a hissy fit when Bel ripped half your library apart?" 

"I wasn't having a fit . I spent that time trying to put everything back together."

"You could have magicked them back." 

"It was delicate ."

"I knew you didn’t know the spells. You should have just asked me for help." 

"No. Go away.") 

Anyways , the beginning of Gakushuu's life marks the start of the longest string of Gakuho's worst decisions. He has a half demon child anyways knowing very well what the consequences from that may stem to be - but in his defense, he hadn't expected to actually like the kid. 

Gakushuu grew so slowly. At five months old he was still nonverbal, six months and he'd yet to show any promise for magic, seven months and he'd not shown signs of any wings. But perhaps it was how slowly he grew up, how unnecessarily long he stayed a dependent, that forged the parental attachment between them in the first place.

There certainly wasn't time or space for that sort of bond to form between Gakuho and his own parents, because he'd gotten over that petty childhood stage by the time he was four. Gakushuu continued being spooked by his shadow until he was five - which, frankly, was equal parts adorable and exasperating. He'd sneak into the foot of Gakuho's bed when he thought Gakuho wasn't looking, events of which happened with increasing frequency when he was four (when his mother died) and teetered away when he was nine. Gakushuu began the habit of sneaking into Gakuhou’s bed again again when Gakushuu was sixteen, sometimes Gakuho would put his work aside to lie there and let Gakushuu hug him, and other times he would quietly work as Gakushuu curled up next to him. 

It’s funny how one changes when the world is about to end.

Gakushuu wakes up on day four and thinks, “the afterlife sure does look a lot like my bedroom.”

He stands up on unsteady feet, his lone wing trailing awkwardly behind him, and he feels a little disappointed that the illusion of whatever happens when people die hadn’t bothered to give him back his other wing. What a shame. It was the least he deserved, really, after all the shit he’s been through, he thinks, staggering to the door and then peering out, wondering what he will encounter in this strange strange new world. Maybe he’s in purgatory?

Huh. Purgatory sure does look a lot like the hallway in his house.

“Ow,” he says. Why does he have aches while he’s dying? That’s one of the places he got stabbed. The afterlife seemed to just be a recreation of the immediate consequences he’d died with - hence the missing wing and the stab aches. He should be lucky that he’d manifested in his bedroom instead of… that place. Maybe heaven does exist after all.

“Ow,” he says, more on reflex, when he reaches the stairway in his house. With how his leg feels, he doesn’t quite want to attempt going down the stairs. 

Gakushuu weighs his options. He can’t die a second time, right?

“Ow!”

That. Hurt.

An unfamiliar face appears in view. “Did you just throw yourself down the stairs?”

“Who are you?” Gakushuu asks, before realizing that he’s being rude. This wasn’t his house, even though it looked very much like it. Maybe this was his afterlife spiritual guide. “Oh, I did. Sorry. Hi.”

“Why didn’t you take the stairs like a normal person?”

“My leg hurts too much to go down it,” Gakushuu says.

There’s a pause.

“Well,” she says, “does it hurt now?”

“Very much so,” Gakushuu nods, then winces. Nodding hurts. “I figured I couldn’t die twice.”

“Oh?” She says, a thoughtful look on her face. “What makes you say that?”

Was this a test? How odd. “I’m dead,” Gakushuu says, nodding to himself. “I died by demon trial. They didn’t like me. This is the afterlife.”

“It sure is,” she agrees, grinning. Oh, okay. Cool. Did he pass?

Come to think of it, she kind of looked a little like Dad. Maybe that’s just how the afterlife worked. Making things look like things you’re familiar with to make you feel comfortable. Emotionally, Gakushuu feels like he’s on a puffy cloud drifting through space. Physically, he feels like he’d just vaulted down the stairs in real life.

“Sorry if this is too forward. Can you make my bones stop hurting?”

“Can’t promise that, sweetie! Gosh, you’re adorable .”

“Um. Thank you.”

“BELINABALZARIPHOSPA!”

“You’re back!” Gakushuu’s new friend squeals, throwing her arms in the air. Gakushuu looks over in awe at the man standing at the doorway of his not-house. He kinda looked like Dad, just a little bit.

“When did he wake up?”

“Dunno,” Bel says. She turns to Gakushuu. “His name is Zlexalophrieseenri.”

“Nice to meet you, Zlexalophrieseenri,” Gakushuu parrots obediently. “My name is Gakurashuelisiky.”

Zlexalophrieseenri gives him a long-siffering look that makes him resemble Dad even more. “I know. Call me Lex.”

“He’s the best,” Bel says. “I adore him. Shuuey, say something funny.”

Gakushuu thinks. Bel had been asking him about stories regarding Dad. Maybe Lex would like one too. “When I was 4 I found out I could do a bit of necromancy, so sometimes I’d bring back dead bugs around the house and make them crawl into my Dad's stuff. He always got pissed off and he secretly hated those large beetles the most but I think he never found out it was me or he would have yelled at me. He resealed all the cracks in the house because of it.”

Lex’s eyes glitter, and he sits down in front of Gakushuu, hands clasped. “Tell me more.”

For siblings the four had a considerably closer bond than most. Aina and Bel were technically his half siblings, and Aina wasn’t biologically related to Bel at all. Blood ties were petty relations anyways, and Lex had taken her in when she was 14. Then he'd sweet talked his way into Lady Jasmine's bed sixty years later and Bel's been "housesitting" for him ever since. 

Aina would have probably killed Bel for being annoying if Bel hadn't singlehandedly slaughtered seven demons when they pissed her off. It was a lot of paperwork, but that kind of power is apparently worth keeping around - yeah, Aina's magnanimous like that. She’s currently a berserker on the battlefield and very much contrary to Gakushuu, she’s on paper for the sharpest wings ever recorded. 

Gakushuu has the good fortune of being fluffy . Gakuho's the luckiest man in the world. 

“Well I miss grocery shopping,” Aina says, “wasn’t that fun?

“Hardly,” Gakuho grumbles. “Did you need every type of cheese from the aisle?”

“There are new types from when I last tried them,” Aina enthuses. “Exciting!”

The door opens, and Gakuho stops short at the threshold. Aina scowls at the obstruction but looks over his shoulder, and her eyebrows disappear into her hairline. In the living room where the coffee table pushed to the side to make space for three people to sprawl about on the rug, there are three people sprawled out on the rug. 

Gakushuu looks up at the interruption. “Oh, wow, that guy looks like my dad.”

“Sure does, buddy,” Lex coos, and buries a hand in the soft tuft of Gakushuu’s hair.

Gakuho recovers from his shock. “What the fu-”

("The look on your face was hilarious," Lex says. 

"Shut the fuck up," Gakuho says.) 

"Akabane and Jelavic barged in when they found out you are alive," Gakuho says, absently stroking Gakushuu's wing. 

"Then they sprinted back out when they realized we were here," Bel says cheerily.

"You didn't try to singe my ex-boyfriend, did you," Gakushuu says warily.

"No. Well maybe a little. Who barges in without knocking anyways?" 

"Wait, ex?" Gakuho pauses in his ministrations. "You broke up?" 

Gakushuu shot him a dirty look. "I'm supposed to be dead ." 

8 years later Akabane marries the love of his life and Gakushuu is there in the audience, watching, a soft smile on his face. 2 years after that they have an adorable little girl named Yuki. 

It takes a while, for them to come to terms with this. Gakushuu says, "I live forever, right? Or well, at least I should… It's not fair for either of us. I'd shackle him with whether I should live or die every couple years or so, and we'd keep leaving each other behind."

"You still love him." 

"Of course," Gakushuu says, as he's curled up next to Gakuho. "I won't stop loving him."

One day after Gakushuu wakes up (and Aina and Lex and Bel were still here ), Karma Akabane and Irina Jelavic knock (again) and creep meekly into Gakuho's house and stand ramrod still in terror. Then Gakushuu emerges from the upper floor and says, "stop scaring them!" And flutters into their open awaiting arms, and the three of them end up sobbing on Gakuho's upholstery. 

And in the end Gakushuu returns to the demon realm anyways. "As much as I felt I belonged there… Well, I suppose I don't really belong anywhere . I simply ran out of time." 

He lives his human life with a strange detachment, in the sort of way where he knew that his college majors or friends or jobs didn’t quite matter as much as it did to any other human. If he was a human, he might have called it depression. 

“Because no matter how attached I am to my human side, I’m just as tied to my demon nature. Human society - it’s norms, expectations - are all run because everyone has a limited lifespan. People live fast and die fast, so they rush everything through... If I stay there long enough I’d surely go stir-crazy. Societal plans are short-sighted because it’s simply not just in people’s nature to see much longer than you live. Even ‘long term plans’ (he says with air-quotes) are considered to be twenty, thirty years. How many times over can you get a PHD before humans declare that you have officially nothing more to learn? Humans cut down trees who live too long, and monuments barely centuries old are labelled as ruins. I’m as much as a human as I am not.”

There is no such thing as forever. Some time in the future, the very last human who remembers Gakushuu dies. It’s a promise of forever that nobody breaks, but that is simply it. It lasted as long as it did in the way it matters, and then it’s let go.

“It’s not about forgetting,” Gakushuu says, (a billion years ago, later, at the end and at the beginning where time doesn’t matter and there’s another version of himself that loved so much he wished he never loved at all,) “we let go, and we move on, but the past does not fade into obscurity. It’s still as important as the present and the future.”

So he says goodbye to Yuki's children and says goodbye to Yuki, and Yuki says goodbye back in a way that tells Gakushuu she knows she won't see him again. Gakushuu and Gakuho go back to their first home one last time (where Irina's daughter's son has a new baby girl christened Kaori) and Gakushuu - for blood protection, because he'd tied himself to Irina and he'd tie himself to her and her descendants for as long as they both would let him - draws a sigil by the aspen tree in the front yard and it's roots spread further under the estate. 

So life goes on.

At some point in time Gakushuu - through a mix of science and luck and his own specialty brand of neither-here-nor-there magic - gets a brand new wing.

"It's not the same," he says, to his flabbergasted audience of one when he emerges (after barricading himself in his room for the better part of a decade) with two feathery wings off his back. 

By which time Gakuho is two thirds in the way of publishing his fourth novella on what to do when your half demon child decides he doesn't love you anymore - a parodic series he began about a year after Gakushuu's research-induced self-isolation, whose first book was promoted in conjunction with one of Lex's research papers on the fine art of navigating a life when your sibling decides to awaken some long lost parental instinct of his and loves his half-demon kid. 

The whole saga of Gakushuu-related content is surprisingly popular. Gakuho had unknowingly made a brilliant PR choice by kicking up a whole fuss when he was praying for Gakushuu to not die and now, through the eyes and words of Gakuho and Lex, the world is unnecessarily invested in whatever would happen to their little halfling next.

Gakushuu was a little bit of a celebrity now, if there was a version of celebrity status where your fans wanted you to die at the same time.

So mid-way through Gakuho’s narrative - as he details the time last year where he tried to spend some time with Gakushuu in the form of a human game called chess and Gakushuu had zoomed past him with a month’s supply of food and said “sorry busy talk to you later” and shut the door behind him - does Gakushuu burst out of his room, beaming from ear to ear, two wings flapping out behind him.

“Holy fucking shit,” Gakuho says.

Bel gets her blanket made of Gakushuu’s down feathers, which she later finds out are the failed results of his wing regrowth experiment. 

“You are my favorite living nephew,” Bel tells him.

“I’m your only living nephew,” Gakushuu says.

“For now,” Bel says breezily.

When Gakushuu is 142, Toi brings home Mileazumarinalphefrixes. 

Gakuho looks at Gakushuu. 

"You're definitely not getting one out of me," Gakushuu says, slowly sipping his tea. 

When Gakushuu is 146, Gakuho brings home Hakuhelisicarmilafinlis.

"Holy hell," Gakushuu says, and goes for the good liquor in the cabinet. 

Gakushuu's have had plenty of experience with human children. He'd babysat for Yuki when she was a child, then much later when Yuki's children were children. Human children, according to Gakushuu, were easy, and he mourns his peace a little, having distinctly recalled how terrible his fellow peers have been to him when he himself was a child. Gakuho greatly begs to differ. 

Demon children, as it turns out, ended up being no different for Gakushuu at all. Perhaps it was the lineage he shared that made children of both species universally glued to his side and pliantly obedient. 

"Even Toi hasn't been this agreeable when she was an infant," Aina muttered, as Gakushuu sweeps past her with Haku bouncing happily on his hip. "She's full demon, right?" 

"Yes!" Gakuho hisses. "I'm not doing all of that again!" 

"Demons just suck at parenting," Gakushuu says breezily. "Dad clearly has the aptitude for an emotional connection. Maybe all demons do. Maybe all you guys are missing," he says, as he tosses Haku a little and then gives her an obnoxious smack on the nose which makes her giggle , "is a teeny little bit of love." 

"Gross," Aina and Gakuhou say at the same time. 

"I've always had the impression he wanted me dead," Gakushuu says. "That's not the furthest thing from the truth, I guess, because all the demons wanted me dead and I associated them, by extension, with Dad. If I'm being honest he wasn't the best at showing me he didn't want me dead." 

Lex snorts. "Tell me about that." 

"There's always been a divide between us. I never understood what he was trying to do and he never understood me. Every time we went to the demon realm I knew he hated that I was shackled to him. For the exact reasons I never fully comprehended, but I knew it was a burden on him. It made me always question why he had me in the first place if he couldn't stand to have me around."

"I learnt to - well 'get over it' isn't the best term. I'd be disillusioned if I said that I could get over something that was essentially a permanent execution order over my head. I found a niche for myself, I suppose. With the whole, wing thing. As much of a black mark I was I could at least prove my worth in something. Karma helped too - he made me feel like I had a place somewhere. Even if I hadn't belonged to either."

Haku grows up to be a brilliant demoness who struck terror into the hearts of anyone who dared look at her family the wrong way - but before that, Haku is a little demon who thinks, despite what her many similar aged peers say, that her big brother Gakushuu is the bestest thing ever . 

"He's defective," Leo says. 

"You are!" Haku snaps, wings flaring irritably. They're four, in their prime age to socialize with their peers and also engage in skirmishes to the death. Demon children are herded into a building where their exasperated parents can leave them alone (because five was a terrible age to deal with as the children wanted their independence but weren’t quite ready to be kicked out of the house yet); and they decided to kill two halflings with one stone and teach the little rascals the finer arts of navigating how life worked. 

The demonic equivalent of elementary school, if you will. 

Tam, their class chaperone-teacher-aide, scowls at the both of them. "Behave, you two." 

So Haku turns around and lunges at Leo.

Haku had a temperament which Gakuho would aptly describe as the polar opposite of Gakushuu. There were many possible reasons for that. 

For one, Shiina had been a mild-mannered human, and her influence on Gakushuu back when she parented him in the most impressionable years of his life must have rubbed onto him. The human world in itself, in fact, was a relatively quiet environment - you couldn’t exactly challenge someone to a battle to the death if they pissed you off - which made Gakushuu a calm individual. He fought with his words more than his fists but he wasn’t incapable of physically throwing hands. After all, he was still rather powerful for his age - a bulk of his power just came in a form that no one but him could understand.

His passive demeanor was also probably from the trauma. Most likely from the trauma.
Definitely the trauma.

As non-confrontational as Gakushuu was, however, Haku was not. She took after Bel far too much.

“You can’t get into fights every time someone insults me,” Gakushuu says. 

(He'd been called in by Tam, whom he'd struck up a tenacious friendship with. Tam, who'd been about 20 when he'd watched Gakushuu try to not be executed, says "that sucks. it shouldn't have happened to you" and meant it , and Gakushuu decided they were friends now. They were supposed to be getting brunch in an hour and they were supposed to be going dutch, but Tam now had three long lines running up his arm from where Haku slashed him, so Gakushuu guesses he's treating this time round. 

And then Tam’d slam him into the bed until one of their bones break. Maybe.) 

“Of course not every time ,” Haku says, because even she knows that’s too much to count. “But if they dare to say it to my face-”

“-eW!” Leo hollers.

Haku snarls, “WHY YOU-”

“How did this happen?” Gakuho says. 

“I’m never at a loss for words,” Lex says. Pauses. “But I seem to be at a loss for words now.” 

In a giant courtyard in the Pavilion where one would normally find miniature battle royales as demonlings tried to tear each other apart, now hosted a bundle of uncharacteristically cuddly little children, with Gakushuu at the centre of it all. 

Whatever this scene was, it seemed to warrant an audience. Which was fair, given the circumstances, because demon children were notoriously hard to handle (as expected) and here Gakushuu was, handling them. Spectators watch with no little amount of perplexion. 

Gakushuu shakes one large wing and sends a few children falling out of the fluff, giggling to themselves. They are some kids at his feet, glaring up at him. “Do it again!” One of them demands, and Gakushuu raises a hand and says a spell - ah, his own little blend of magic - and sends sparks flying. 

“How’d you do that!” They rage a little, equally enraptured and furious, as most demons are when they encounter a problem that cannot be solved. The novelty of Gakushuu’s magic seemed to intrigue them enough to have demanded their curiosity instead of their ire, which was an interesting turn of events indeed.

Gakushuu seems to be playing into that, tapping his chin with a faux surprise and says, “surely you’ve figured out some light show magic by now? How could you not know-”

“-We do!” They chorus, and then launch into fervent demonstrations to prove their worth. And Gakushuu’s human upbringing truly comes through here - his need for affirmation, because he pays it forward, making a show of gasping and saying “I don’t know how to do it that way!” and even clapping a little, and for some reason it works in a way that everyone should have expected, because the children preen under that and latch onto Gakushuu to insist on his immediate attention for their next round of showmanship.

“Aww,” Tam says, from where he’s standing at a corner with his arms crossed, watching the scene with a little confused amusement. 

“Your wings are so soft!” An exclamation comes, from a child buried in the tuft of feathers at his back. 

Haku turns around, excited. “He can use them like a blanket!”

“Which you shouldn’t be doing with your own,” Gakushuu quickly interjects. “Your wings are all sharp, you know. Remember that!” And he looks up at Gakuho, eyes twinkling, and Gakuho scowls at him.  

Haku is only three when Gakushuu, from his room, hears an unholy shriek coming from her tiny lungs. He leaps into action immediately (knowing very well that Haku is at the age where she shrieks at everything and this may very well be an over exaggeration on his part, but sue his big brother instincts) and dashes down the stairs, only to be greeted by the sight of her on Gakuho’s lap, glaring up at their father with utmost fury on her little face.

Gakuho, on the flip side, looks horrified. His entire palm is bleeding, dripping blood onto their floor, and from the centre of the wound sticks several long thin blades of Haku’s feathers.

At Gakushuu’s entrance, Gakuho looks up and meets his shocked gaze with an unwaveringly dismayed one.

“Did you-”

“Don’t-”

“-try to-”

“-say-”

“-pet her?”

“-it,” Gakuho finishes, then sighs, miserably. “This was purely muscle memory.”

Gakushuu blinks. Puts his hand over his mouth, blinks again, shakes a little, then starts laughing.

“Oh shut up. You ruined me.”

"Hello, Tam," Gakuho says. Tam's here, today, in his house. Tam was here yesterday. Tam is coming round an awful lot to Gakuho's house.

"Hello, Kuho," Tam greets politely. He's over a simmering pot in the stove, humming to himself. The kitchen in Gakuho's house is a unique addition. Most people just hop over to the human world if they get a craving, but that was sporadic and not worth the investment of a daily cooking setup. 

Whatever Tam was making (for Gakushuu, who else?) smelt awfully familiar. 

"Is that chicken soup?"

Tam brightens. "Yeah! If you can tell I mustn't be doing too terrible of a job."

"Oh," Gakuho says. The soup brings something to mind. It’s something Gakushuu misses. "It's Karma’s birthday."

Tam nods. "He's mopey."

Gakuho leans against the doorframe. "So what is it that you kids are up to these days?"

Tam lets out a bark of laughter. "Please. You're not that much older than us."

How true, and odd to say. Gakuho's perception of time is being increasingly challenged. 

"There's a generation between us," Gakuho shrugs. 

Tam smiles good naturedly. “That sounds like a human thing to say.”

“It is,” Gakuho agrees. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still running on human time. Keeping pace is still strange, even if I no longer have to actively count down Gakushuu’s hours.”

"Ah, the human world must be interesting," Tam says. "I'd like to live there for a bit. I don't wager Shuu would be enthusiastic about the idea. Maybe I'll talk him into a short trip."

“We lived in Japan back then. We’ve actually not had much of an opportunity to venture out beyond that. How has work been?”

“Ah, it’s been going. I see too many of those little brats on a daily," Tam rolls his eyes. "Dealing with them a few hours a day is hell enough. Although come to think of it Shuu is great with kids…"

Gakuho leans forward eagerly. "I've postponed the idea of grandchildren until Haku grows up but if you can speed up the process-"

Tam lets out a bark of laughter. "A quarter human. Ain't that novel. Shuu would rightly murder me if I suggest it."

Gakuho sighs. "I'm selfish."

"Maybe a little," Tam says. 

"Human influences have made me contemplate my non-existent mortality," Gakuho says. "A human acquaintance of ours was on her fourth generation."

"That sounds nice."

"I'm happy with two children."

"It'd be a while before Haku grows up," Tam says. "I'm amazed. She's attached to her family a lot more than peers her age. It's not a bad thing."

"The Gakushuu effect," Gakuho solemnly informs him. 

“I’m glad,” he says. “There’s still a long way to go. Shuu needs more people on his side, not just family. He’s an easy guy to like, if they gave him a chance.”

“He does need more friends,” Gakuho thinks. 

“I’ll bring him out more, when he’s feeling better.”

Haku’s mother, Dem, is a nice, wiry demoness who finds Gakushuu interesting more on the side of humor than disdain, and that’s pretty much a win in Gakuho’s book. She’s visiting today, seated at the dining table with a mug of tea and a plate of cookies she's eyeing with interest. Gakushuu had found out that a steady supply of food is a novel experience and offering snacks to guests pique their interest. It's working.

"What ever in the world did you do, Kuho?" She sighs dramatically, although not maliciously. "If I hadn't made that baby with you I'd sworn you'd gotten another halfling."

"You chose to leave her with me knowing my track record," Gakuho says.

They're watching the kids outside the window. Haku is seated cross-legged scribbling on a book, because she'd found Gakushuu's magical equations book and decided she needed one of her own. Which she didn't, because she had normal and basic magic that any manual could explain, but there was no harm in her new hobby. Gakushuu is doing pushups with aforementioned Haku on his back.

"Is Shuu thinking of having a child?" 

"It'd kill him and the baby," Gakuho says.

Dem laughs. "I suppose so. What a shame it is. It would have made a great study. A waste of his powers, and wings." 

"I was thinking of heading down to Rue for a few summers," she says, and breaks off a biting of a cookie. "And I would like to extend that invitation to your family."

Gakuho pauses in stirring his coffee. "Family?"

"Yes, that includes the halfling," Dem says. "If he's here to stay for the next few centuries, I don't see why not."

It's at Rue that Gakushuu meets his second boyfriend, Sol. Sol was a twice-removed half cousin on Dem's side and he hated Gakushuu from the first moment he saw him, and they had a scuffle that left both of them worse for wear. And then they fought more, and Gakuho was sure one of them might end up killing the other (he had confidence in Gakushuu, but also because currently killing Gakushuu was illegal). And he almost barged in on them in what he had assumed was a fight to the death until Dem's sister grabbed him and hissed "shut up" and they listened through the door. And then the both of them turned around and left. 

And now Gakushuu was wrapped around Sol on the couch fast asleep, and Sol was scrolling through his phone above Gakushuu's head looking like he was trying very hard not to look like he was enjoying it.

And there were so many bruises on them. (So many.) Gakuho doesn't want to judge, or be an overprotective parent or anything. (But he is.)

"Oh come on," Dem cuffs him on the ear. "How is this different from us? Need I remind you you broke my-"

"It's different because he's my baby!" Gakuho hisses.

"You know, Ceece, I never really understood why you liked that stupid fleece blanket you got from that human world until now," Sol is saying.

Gakuho opens his mouth.

Dem steps on his foot.

Gakuho glowers. 

Sol is almost Gakuho's age. Sol is Gakuho's junior by three decades. This shouldn't be weird, because they're not human, but Gakushuu is part human, and so Gakuho can't remove the human filter he's assessing the situation with. If he was a human parent and his human son was dating a human as old as he was? Gakuho would lose it.

Sol looks at Gakuho over the top of Gakushuu's head, and narrows his eyes. 

Gakuho stands up.

Dem yanks him back down.

And this is where I ended! 

Some notes:

- "Haku" is from "Hakuhou", my OC-character for Gakushuu's (twin) sister! She has appeared in one of my Karushuu week oneshots and one of the chapters in my incomplete fic collection.

- I only dedicated a super small part of this fic to Karma and Gakushuu's anxieties about whether Gakuhou loved him, but if I actually wrote this fic, there would be way longer sections for them! I got obsessed with worldbuilding, fluff/fun and the future when writing this, and so I never touched on the more emotional/angst topics. If I had planned to actually make this a fic, there would be a whole novella dedicated to Gakushuu and Karma's discussion of life, death, and trying to move on while still loving each other.

- Another idea I entertained was Gakuhou's treatment towards Gakushuu! It's fluffy Asanos in this fic, but I think I discussed this in one of the comments in my past fics. Gakuhou didn't (know how to) love Gakushuu for the better part of his childhood, and he didn't know how to be a good parent. Yet he's still the only thing keeping Gakushuu from dying. As Gakushuu puts it, sometimes in his childhood he wasn't sure if his father wanted him dead, because all of Gakuho's resentment at the demons' treatment towards Gakushuu, was mistakenly directed towards Gakushuu as well. And yet it was obvious that Gakuho didn't want Gakushuu dead, because why else go to such lengths to protect him? Gakushuu has a complicated trust-distrust relationship with Gakuho, which is made even worse as Gakuho learns how to navigate having newfound emotions and obviously has difficulty expressing them. I planned to have a lot of angst surrounding these two, learning to be a family again now now that the imminent threat of death isn't above them.  

- I just think that monogamy is not expected in any sort of society where people live forever. Because, uh, you'll go insane with the expectations and the literal staying together with someone forever! I imagine the demons here to be casually polyamorous, but of course the rules of a standard relationship still applies. with respect and consent and what not. Children are largely independent and most parents are "single" parents, because it doesn't take a lot of effort to raise a demon child + having two parents together complicates lifestyles. And honestly when you live forever, age differences don't mean much. But of course leave anyone below 100 alone!!! 

- Gakushuu is still the favorite test subject of the demon laboratories, but after successfully magicking a broken wing back, he's roped into actually helping them. There's still a lot of people who think he's more useful to science when cut up, but he's earned the role (somewhat) of medical-magic-experimenter. Nobody understands his work which mean's he's irreplaceable. He's here to stay!

- Public opinion about him is still mixed. The more time he spends in the demon realm and proves his worth, he's treated better. There will forever be people who think he's the abomination of nature, but the kids think he's pretty cool. Gakuhou is still laughed at by people but he receives anonymous gift baskets regularly from people who underwent life-changing surgical procedures, so that's nice. 

- Fun fact: the name Lacey (an OC from one of my other fics, you know the one) came from here! She was supposed to be one of Tam's girlfriends who absolutely hated Gakushuu. Instead, I used the name for another one of my fics as Gakuhou's girlfriend, who also similarly absolutely hates Gakushuu (the cat). The fic is "Siri is my cat gay" btw

- Tam and Sol meet. They don't... dislike each other. But they do. A lot. Cuddling Gakushuu is both their favorite activities but prime cuddling time is for best one-on-one, so they compete for his affections constantly. Gakushuu 100% knows what's going on and he encourages it. Picture Isoshuu and Karushuu. 

- Gakushuu does get harrassed by a lot of people who wish to just fuck around with him (and possibly murder him). When Sol finds out, he's absolutely vicious. (Tam too, of course, but he's on the more mild-mannered end of the spectrum and not-that-great at fighting, so he calls Gakushuu's other feral boyfriend to hunt the perps down, while he makes soup. Gakuhou is endlessly worried. He would go on a rampage himself, really, but Sol appears on his doorstep grinning and absolutely dripping in blood. Gakuhou makes him wipe his feet on the welcome mat.

- After a long time, Gakushuu eventually goes back to Earth on vacation. He misses it, and decides to stay a lot longer at his old estate. He's familiar with Irina's descendents, so they're all friends. He helps them out with fun witchy stuff for a bit. He doesn't look for Karma's, because they've long moved on and no memory of him is left, so he's not going to shackle knowledge of his existence to them for several more generations. He does, however, visit the graves often, with many flowers.

- There is 100% no way I'll ever complete Emmerselda as a full fic. 

- Maybe, MAYBE. At some point, it happens again. It always had, many times in history, after all. Half-demon, half-human. They poke at her, run endless tests, talk amongst themselves, scribbles in her file. Finally someone walks in. He bends down to her height and smiles at her. "Hi, I'm Gakushuu."

"I'm Emmerselda."

"I'm just like you. Let's figure it out together, okay?"

Chapter Text

just general ideas that I ended up not including in the published fic

Inspired by what I wrote in Sail Away:

Gakushuu's mother is an assassin as well. She's dead now, either by childbirth or on one of her missions early on in Gakushuu's life, which prompted Gakuhou to fully retire so his son still has one living parent.

Her assassin name was going to be scorpia (scorpion), hence why I wrote this as my starting paragraph for Subtraction

Do you know that Monarch Butterflies are poisonous?

They’re one of the most well known and recognized species of butterfly, with their signature orange wings laced with black stripes and white dots. A little known fact about them is that they’re poisonous - not as lethal as you would expect, say, a scorpion to be, nor as intimidatingly creepy as a centipede. The seasonal migration of the Monarchs are a sight to behold if you’re ever passing by.

Fun fact!

Several of the original drafts included Gakuhou still being an active assassin. The eventual published fic had him fully retired by Gakushuu's birth (although he does train Gakushuu personally.)

When reading this set of scenes, if you see some allusions to that, it may be why.

I ended up keeping most of what I had written in my 2020 draft, for the Okinawa arc and Korosensei's assassination attempt!

one of the original beginning scenes

there are many ways Gakushuu could find out, could have found out, about the secret on the mountain of Class 3-E of Kunugigaoka Middle School. He could have waited for it to come out on the news a whole year later, he could hear of it halfway through the middle of the semester through a slip of a tongue or a word of mouth, he could have demanded for answers with a knife a few inches away from someone's throat. 

This time he finds out when he's in Barcelona from an acquaintance of an acquaintance of an acquaintance, an anonymous offer that seemed too good to be true floating by. He has his own set of channels separate from his father’s, does a bit of digging, and it seems as if the whole mercenary community has already gotten wind of this hit - a failed government experiment that can travel at Mach-20 speeds and is supposedly indestructible. Then his back is pressed to the wall of a payphone booth as he waits for the call to connect.

"Yes?" Says his father on the other end of the line.

"Why the fuck is our school on the Japanese government's hit list location?" Gakushuu hisses, frustration and panic slipping through the anger of his voice, fingers curling over the receiver. " What did you do ?" 

"Come home," Gakuhou says, and hangs up.

one of the original scenes planned for Irina's introduction

tw: non-con

The unscrupulous people he targets trip over their feet for young blonde, bright-eyed boys - he’s small, fair-skinned, and he makes the prettiest noises when he’s being touched all over, or so they tell him. It gives him great pleasure when he snaps their necks between his thighs - well, what did they expect, putting their heads there? 

Irina Jelavic had been far younger than he was, and had been gifted the misfortune of being born a girl. He wants to say that he’d gotten a choice, but how much of a choice did he get to make about any of this? He was born into it, after all.

His first time: he’d been intoxicated then, morphine running through his veins and adrenaline from the high of the mission, glistening sweat pressing his hair to his forehead and the need to please and gain approval.

His father had a brief pain flashed on his face and then replaced with his calm indifference, Gakushuu liked to imagine it was because he thinks about the life he’s led Gakushuu down to. He says “you don’t have to,” we can find another way, but Gakushuu straightens up and gives his best smile and says yes. His father whispers instructions with a heavy voice and something that almost sounds like regret, Gakushuu swipes lipstick on his bottom lip, and then drinks and stumbles into the waiting arms of his target. 

another one of the scenes originally planned for Irina's introduction

Gakushuu almost trips over his feet when he spies Irina Jelavic across the school campus courtyard.

He calls Lovro and cusses him out.

“Oops,” Lovro says pettily, not apologetic at all. “I must have missed my reminder to tell you about her.”

“I’m not joining 3-E,” Gakushuu says.

“Yet,” Lovro says. 

Gakushuu splutters in indignation as Lovro hangs up on him.

yet Another scene originally meant for Irina's introduction 

(honestly you can tell how much I scrapped)

tw: non-con

Gakushuu had met her once, 10 and trussed up in the back of a van. The door opens and she’s flung in too, 15 and high out of her mind, before they're locked in. She huffs out a “how rude, didn’t even give me a tissue” and then turns to survey Gakushuu with interest in her eyes.

“I know you,” she says, and flicks to where his hands should be behind his back. “You’re already free, aren’t you, come help me.”

“You can get out by yourself,” Gakushuu says evenly.

“Ugh, but I’m sore all over,” she groans. “I’ll make it worth your while, cutie.” 

He narrows his eyes at her but moves over anyways, and makes quick work of the ropes on her hands and legs. She adjusts herself and pushes her breasts back into her top, and then grabs him and kisses him for a bit. “How old are you, by the way?”

“10,” he says.

“Aww,” Jelavic says, but she releases him and smooths his hair back down. She doesn’t apologize, he doesn’t expect her too. They bide their time and trade bits of news, she’s here for Donovan and he’s here for Iiyd, he’d overheard he’s on his way to ‘the square’ first thing tomorrow (wherever that is), she tells him she knows and points him towards ‘the warehouse’ wherever that may be.

When he hears the first bit of whirring - the factory machines reboot at 4am in the morning - they break out together. “Wow,” she tells him, when she finally sees him in the light. “your eyes are really pretty.”

It was dark in the van. “You’re pretty too,” Gakushuu says and she laughs. 

Another Irina scene 

(listen, I wanted them to be friends, okay?)

Irina ambushes him in an empty corridor after school hours. Gakushuu almost flips her, but she leaps out of the way, giggling. 

"Ri-ri!" Gakushuu scolds.

"Shuu-chan!" Irina ruffles his hair. "It's been forever! You've grown so tall now!"

"Your hair's gotten longer," Gakushuu says lamely. 

Irina rolls her eyes at him.

Pretty much every assassin knows Lovro, and by extension they know about his adopted daughter Irina, who is now a gorgeous twenty year old woman and completely off limits if anyone wanted to keep their hands and heads.

Gakuhou had linked Gakushuu to Lovro as is customary for all assassins - if the world of hired hitmen had any sort of network, he was at the centre of it. Lovro had jumped at the opportunity to get someone relatively close to Irina's age on board - granted, six years apart is not a small difference especially when you consider that Gakushuu is seven, but there's not exactly an overwhelming abundance of children in the field that Irina can interact with.

She was thirteen, learning how to kill a man with her thighs and dress up to look eighteen so they'll end up between her thighs in the first place, and Lovro was concerned she was going to crack like a walnut.

Luckily enough for all of them, war and murder beat the typical teenage rebellious phase out of her, so she didn't throw any tanturms at unwanted responsibility and quietly agreed to babysit Gakushuu as Lovro and Gakuhou watched them anxiously from a distance. They were best friends almost immediately, and Irina taught Gakushuu how to braid her hair.

Gakushuu's ever grateful for the connections because he has a wonderful friend in Irina, and also Lovro is biased towards him so he gets the best deals and the latest information.

Which brings him here, braiding Irina's hair again as she regales him tales about her past jobs.

Gakuhou wanders into the living room, absently sipping a cup of coffee. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Irina beams. “Yes, please!”

One of my original plans was to have Gakushuu investigate Koro-sensei and look into 3-E as he's a curious kid

but I ended up recharacterizing him as someone who wants Nothing to do with 3-E (because the more he interacts with them, the more likely he'll get found out) as he just wants to live his life peacefully. Furthermore, unlike Canon Gakushuu, he already knows what's up with them and thus has no further incentive to actually "uncover his father's secrets"

However I did write a lot about it, and it has a very similar tone to Kunugigaoka Knows (another reason why I cut it tbh, it doesn't fit the eventual tone this fic took) so here it is

Gakushuu meets Karasuma Tadaomi one day before he's slated to take over as the homeroom teacher for class 3-E. 

Or rather, he bursts into his father's office - all bright eyes and blinding smiles - and catches the government service agent off guard.

His father hides a snicker behind his hand.

Gakushuu smiles disarmingly. "Apologies," he says, "I didn't realize you had guests over."

"My son, Gakushuu," his father introduces. "Karasuma-Sensei, the new teacher taking over Yukimura-Senei's spot in 3-E."

Gakushuu winces, genuinely. "A-ah, Yukimura-Sensei…" 

Her death is alarming, and still under his investigation. He's been to the funeral, met her smarmy creepy ex-fiance, and tried breaking into her apartment (but it's a crime scene now, which is both parts inconvenient and suspicious.)

Karasuma-Sensei (Agent Karasuma) shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of both Asanos. Gakushuu doesn't blame him - his father has a disconcerting stare. Gakushuu's told he has one, too.

Gakushuu turns to him and holds out a hand to shake. "I'm Gakushuu Asano, the student body council president. We'll be working together often through the year."

Mr Karasuma takes his hand. "Of course, Asano."

Gakushuu hums pleasantly as he bugs the 3-E classroom.

Gakushuu keeps an extra eye out for 3-E - but even if he hasn't, he doesn't think he would miss the giant 3 meter tall clearly-an-octopus-in-disguise, caricature of a human, lumbering into the assembly hall with a chortle. 

Because no one in this school is blind, speculations begin. Gakushuu sighs.

On his corner of the assembly hall, his father looks like he's having an aneurysm.

Ren leans forward and taps him on the shoulder. "Um, Asano. The 3-E teacher…" 

Gakushuu sighs, again. He thought that this whole sham was supposed to be, you know, top secret . 

"...Obviously, um, not a normal human being?"

Gakushuu sighs a third time. "Yeah."

He's glad he's not remotely involved in that shitshow. 

Karasuma-Sensei looks aggrieved. 

The late Yukimura-Sensei has a sister. Gakushuu knows this because one of the women at the funeral muttered quite rudely about Yukimura-Sensei's own family's lack of attendance. Gakushuu felt bad for her.

He does not have a file on every single Kunugigaoka student - that's ridiculous! Only on some - but he starts picking apart each one of the 3-E students as targets of interests. 

Kayano Kaede, a student who coincidentally transferred at a convenient time to land her in 3-E one day before the octopus supercreature (who calls himself Koro-Sensei) arrived, is…

Kayano Kaede, the name of a minor character played by actress Haruna Mase in a short film when she was 8. Haruna Mase, actress, stage name; real name, Akari Yukimura.

Gakushuu watches her watch the octopus super creature.

So. She knows something.

Gakushuu doesn't have a conspiracy cork board, but writing things down would certainly help him. There's surely a bigger connection there with Yukimura-Sensei's sister abruptly transferring to her old school, in her old class, with a completely different persona. Surely she's not just interested in paying a memorial to her sister?

This is stupid. This is stupid!

Gakushuu doesn’t even think of how stupid it is (he’s been desensitized) until he’s flipping through his notes in the library and his earpiece is playing an audio feed from the 3-E classroom, where Koro-sensei starts of his lesson plan by outlining the dos and don’ts of being an assassin.

An assassin!

First of all, who does this octopus think he is, giving stupid obvious advice about killing people-

Second, who in their right mind would come up with this- the 3-E children are middle schoolers- How did any government approve- why-

-yeah, he was fourteen, but that wasn’t the point!

The point was that they weren't born into this like he was. The point was they think it's all a game because no authority figure is treating this with the severity it deserves, and it makes the children flippant as well because they don't know any better. The point was all of this wouldn't hit them until they come close to danger and by that time it might be too late! 

“Assassins,” he hears through the tinny voice in his earpiece, “are careful.”

Gakushuu lets his head thunk on the table.

Next to him, Sakakibara places a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Asano, are you alright?”

It takes Gakushuu an embarrassingly long while to find out the cause of death for Yukimura-Sensei. 

A lab accident in her fiance's workplace, where she works her second job as a biology research assistant. Twenty five other people died that day. There's some sort of cover up going on - it's heavily redacted, and he doesn’t find it on major news sources. Instead, he finds an article alluding to an accident and an explosion on a tabloid no one reads, and again a second mention on a “why is no one talking about this?” forum thread whose original poster account that has since been deactivated. 

Akari Yukimura must know something…

...but as curious as Gakushuu is, it’s only been a week and a half since Yukimura-Sensei’s death. There is one entire school year left for pieces to fall into place - no need to reveal his hand so early to a character as unpredictable and unknown as Yukimura - er, Kayano.

"I need a favour," Gakushuu says.

Gakuhou stares at him, amused. "My services don't come for free."

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. "I'll cook you your favorite meal this Saturday."

His father's eyes light up. "What do you need?"

Gakushuu leans forward. "Yanagisawa Labs."

His father smiles at him, one finger tapping his chin, looking somewhat disappointed - like he didn't expect Gakushuu to take this long or need his help.

Karma

Gakushuu wakes up with the feeling of dread. He checks the calendar and sees - with the sinking feeling in his stomach - that Karma Akabane’s suspension is over today.

Now, see, the thing here is: Gakushuu’s not stupid. He’s aware of how he appears to be in front of the school population. He’s a straight A student, the council president, the principal’s son, for god’s sake, He has a carefully cultivated persona so that most people wouldn’t think he would be capable of cheating on a test, let alone being a hired killer.

And the thing about Akabane is that Akabane is, essentially, Gakushuu’s foil. He’s The Rebellious kid, The Antisocial kid, The Effortless Genius kid. He’s the antithesis of Gakushuu, they’re complete opposites, and their polarizing nature helps keep this school in equilibrium. Equal opposites.

Not really, because Gakushuu is, obviously, far better than him. 

Except now it’s apparently the government’s grand plan to give Akabane a firearm. And the boy can fight, Gakushuu knows he can fight with his fists and his knives. Now they’re going to add a gun to his curriculum?!

Gakushuu hates this. He absolutely hates this.

“If Akabane blows Kunugigaoka up,” Gakushuu tells Ren, who - bless his soul - is oblivious but supportive and nods along, “I’m going to let him.”

“Um.” Ren says. “I hope he doesn’t. But I support you.”

Gakushuu beams at Ren. Sometimes he thinks that if he wasn’t statistically likely to die in a firefight before he’s twenty five, he would let himself be closer to Ren.

Kyoto

He follows them to Kyoto. Crosses his arms, flicks through a magazine with feigned disinterest, watching from the corner of his eye the carriage barred from visitors that supposedly holds 3-E and their mysterious octopus creature. Why the government hadn’t rented out the whole train for the class intrigues him, they could certainly afford it, perhaps they wanted to keep a low profile? 

Only assassins who have taken up the Deal and signed multiple agreements are told the scarce details of it - the location of the targets, the children involved. It might have worked in any other profession but by now it seems that even the most uninterested assassins have gotten wind of the finer details of Koro-sensei and 3-E. There are a lot of reasons why no unauthorized hits have been carried out thus far, his father being one of them.

Gakushuu’s not affiliated to him in the underground. They’ve worked publicly on hits once or twice - back in Gakushuu’s sapling days, if only to build a reputation and an association with a big name. Some of the more… quelling rumors have started when it seems that his father had taken up apprentice of a young child - and he works with children, doesn’t he? But he’d since then made a bit of a reputation for himself, and the whispers go where he cannot hear.

Red-eye

In Kyoto Gakushuu tails Red-eye to a Starbucks and makes a discreet and obvious entrance, Red-eye grins and buys Gakushuu a macchiato. “Mini-Mukade!” he greets, “You’ve taken the Deal? Leg all healed up?”

“That was 2 years ago, Red,” Gakushuu snorts. “Nah, just in the area. Saw you firing at some middle-school kids and decided to say hi.”

“Cool,” Red says, not believing him. “You do look like a teenager now.” He sips his latte. “Most people normally have disguises if they’re planning on leading a noticeable public life, just a thought. Did you know you have pretty eyes?”

“Give me a break, I was 12,” Gakushuu groans. “They dug the contacts out of my eyes and stabbed me in the corneas with their fingernails, I had an infection that lasted weeks. There are plenty of blonds everywhere, it’s mostly the eyes that are a problem.” He angrily drinks the coffee. “Fuckin’ genetics.”

Red smirks at him. “Make it your gimmick. Violet-eye.”

“Dad’ll kill me,” Gakushuu laments. 

“You take a crack at the octopus yet?” Red asks him. “He’s just next door from you, it ain’t ought to be hard.”

“Nah, too high profile,” Gakushuu says.

“So I reckon those little classmates don’t know who you are? I’m sure they’ll appreciate the help, they look like they need it.”

“Our classes have a little bit of a rivalry. Besides, I can’t trust all of them to stay quiet about it.”

“They’ve kept the octopus secret this long, haven’t they?” Red points out.

Gakushuu scowls at him. “Fuck off, Red,” he says, and Red-eye ruffles his hair in an oddly affectionate manner. It’s not something Gakushuu would permit Gakuhou to do unless they were acting, but it’s not something Gakuhou would do of his own accord anyways.  

Post-exams

(for some reason I originally wrote a tiny scene post-exams where Gakushuu just kills someone, but I decided that it was illogical for him to do because 1. he's not a senseless killer who murders strangers, just when he has a job, 2. he's not going to take a job when he's trying to stay on the down-low and not be looked at by 3-E, and 3. other than be annoying it didn't add substance to the fic.

Examinations are nothing. They’ve been nothing for a long time, just like assassination, a methodological application of his skills. Cross out, strike, write, shade, check, load, cock, trigger. After his last paper he gets into a stranger’s motel room bed, breaks his neck, pens a flowery apology letter to the motel staff and lets them find the body. Buys himself an ice cream and shrugs his jacket slightly off-shoulder, peers into the reception and asks why there were so many police in the lobby.

“Oh, um,” she says, “there was, an, um, robbery.”

“Oh shit,” he gasps. A nearby patron’s ears carries her into the conversation and she asks, “which room?”

“Um, a few rooms,” the receptionist says apologetically. “If you see any… um, missing items from your room, please, um, do report it to us.”

Gakushuu thanks her, it’s his last stay here, you see, he hopes they catch the robber soon. The receptionist pales and nods, smiling strained.

Sports Festival - Pole Toppling

This scene would have definitely changed the tone for a bit - but then I thought that 1. I don't really want to follow up with anything that happened here so I don't think I should include it, and 2. Gakushuu wouldn't do this

This scene follows the aftermath of Gakuhou betaing up the exchange students. Gakushuu is going home. recap: he has a handprint shaped bruise on his throat, and it hurts for him to speak

tw: violence

Gakushuu hurries. The courtyard he has to cross is an open space but it's empty and-

"Asano!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Gakushuu should just run away. Pretend he doesn't hear anyone.

“Asano, wait up!” It’s both Isogai and Maehara. What dignity does he have to 3-E? Is he willing to surrender it all and just sprint for the exit so he doesn’t have to talk to them? 

Gakushuu weighs his options - running away seems like such a great option right now. Except when he tests his weight, pain flares up his back again, and something in his leg - not quite hurting yet but aching enough as a protest) warns him not to run.

Gakushuu sighs. His father is going to give him hell when he finds out that Gakushuu can't keep a secret.

"Asano," Isogai says. "Um, sorry for bothering you, it's been a long day and-"

"We wanted to make sure you held your end of the deal," Maehara says loudly. 

Gakushuu opens his mouth, but he can't speak. He should have just powered through the vending machines, and maybe he would have missed them entirely as well.

"Come on, man, won't even face us?!" Maehara says, as Isogai tries to shush him. "And giving us the silent treatment as well, you-"

"S-!" Gakushuu manages to get out, and curses in his head. 

Maehara and Isogai blink in surprise. 

Maehara says, "you, uh, want some water or something?"

Gakushuu looks longingly at the school gate. Unreachable respite - he mourns it a little.

Then turns around.

Isogai curses loudly and Maehara - who actually took out his water bottle in an awkward offer to him - drops it in surprise. And then they're right in front of Gakushuu.

"Who did this to you?!" Isogai looks distressed. 

"Listen, we can call- we know someone who can help," Maehara says hurriedly, pulling out his phone. "We can-"

Gakushuu quickly grabs his hand and shakes his head.

Maehara looks startled, but he presses his bottle to Gakushuu's hands. Gakushuu drinks it - it hurts, but then his throat feels significantly less dry.

"Don't call," he croaks out. He doubts either of them understand sign language. If only Irina were here.

"What?! Asano, your father tried to kill you!" Maehara snaps.

Isogai elbows him hard.

"What?" He hisses. "Tell me I'm wrong. Who else could it fucking be?"

"It doesn't…" Isogai looks conflicted. "Asano?"

Gakushuu's tired. It's not like they'll buy it anyways. "Fell down the stairs."

"You have bruises the shape of handprints on your throat!"

Gakushuu shakes his head. As ridiculous as it is… as long as he admits nothing, everything can only be mere speculation. (So what if it's incredibly spot on? You can't arrest a thief if the victim doesn't claim anything was stolen from them.) "Don't call. Stairs."

"What-"

"Didn't talk about your job," Gakushuu tells them. With any luck, once they get the information they were here for, they'll leave him alone.

"Do you think that's what we care about right now?!" Isogai yells.

Sigh.

"Doesn't matter. I'm ok."

"Actually, Asano, no you're not!" Maehara says.

Isogai frowns. "Are you… going home?"

"I don't think you should," Maehara cuts in before Gakushuu nods. "Do you have somewhere you can stay over? Honestly this is super weird but you can stay over at mine if you wanna-"

...Gakushuu is touched. In all honesty. He would say more but he's honestly tired, and he wants to go back and bandage his wounds and figure out a way to apologize to his exchange friends, and now he has to figure out how to buy Isogai and Maehara's silence. Something tells him they're definitely going to let some information conveniently slip to either Karasuma or the octopus.

Gakushuu shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

Isogai reaches out to touch his arm. "Asano-"

"If you tell anyone," Gakushuu warns, pointing to his throat. "I'll talk about your job."

That shuts them both up… but instead of looking angry, they both look sad.

"Alright," Isogai says softly.

Gakushuu looks at him for a moment… well, he's not exactly telling the full truth, but he doesn't think anything he says will dissuade them from trying to - god forbid - "help him". This mostly-agreement will have to do.

Gakushuu quickly leaves.

Reaper arc

One of my long, original plans was to have Gakushuu attempt to fight Reaper.

These are several of my plans while figuring out how to handle the Reaper arc:

Draft 1: Gakushuu overhears Reaper's plan as he tells 3-E about it. Reaper warned 3-E not to call Karasuma/Korosensei, but Gakushuu calls them instead (anonymously), and then does nothing.

Draft 2: Instead of doing nothing after draft 1, he plans to head over to deal with Reaper. BUT he's not stupid, and he doesn't want to die, so he tries to ask Gakuhou for help. Gakuhou, who may be stupid, is smart enough to know that's a bad idea (and secretly loves his son) so he refuses to let Gakushuu go and say 3-E can kill themselves if they want to.

Draft 3: Gakushuu plans to head over to deal with Reaper, but he knows his father won't help, so he goes by himself. 

Draft 4: Gakuhou knows Reaper's plan, and he doesn't care about 3-E's life or death. Gakuhou says that whatever decision Gakushuu makes, he will have to live/die with the consequences. Gakushuu chooses to go after 3-E as with in draft 3.

Draft 5: Reaper kidnaps Gakushuu along with Irina at first to use as bait. There are many iterations of this plan, but I scrapped all of them because I didn't want the reveal to happen at this point in time.

any version of ^ the above drafts where Gakushuu goes after Reaper

His hands tremble ever so slightly on the handle of the gun - he has only one shot to take, because if he loses the element of surprise and Reaper’s not dead, he will be.

They’re moving too fast for a clear opening. Dammit, Karasuma, Gakushuu curses internally, tracking the two blurs through his scope. Silently he dashes through the rafters, following the fight from above, and when he reaches an angle overlooking the other edge of the hall, in the cage, he sees 3-E watching the match in what seems to be more awe than anything. 

Are they idiots? All it takes is for a fraction of a second for Karasuma to falter, before Reaper gains the upper hand and then kills all of them! Why are they cheering? This isn’t a fucking sports match, don’t they understand their lives are at stake here?!

Gakushuu has never hated 3-E more than he did in this moment. 

He readies his gun again, tracking the fight, and that’s all it takes - a fraction of a second, an opening, Reaper’s special move, firing a single bullet from a device hidden in the tip of his index finger, the class screams as blood spurts and Karasuma staggers backwards with his red flowing through his fingers and down onto the floor

drip, drip, drip

Gakushuu takes the shot. 

He doesn’t stay around to see if he hits his target - if he was lucky enough it would be a headshot, but no sooner had his finger pressed down on the trigger of his gun he’s on his feet. Only a second later does bullets rain down millimeters from where he had been hiding, then chasing his path all the way down the high beams into a gap in the wall, and Gakushuu claps his hands over his ears and winces.

The gunshots stop as abruptly as they begun. Only when 3-E begins to cheer does Gakushuu risk a peek and crawls out of his hiding space, to see Karasuma holding up a bloody fist, and Reaper knocked out cold. The wound hadn’t incapacitated Karasuma, it seems, but neither had Gakushuu’s shot to Reaper - there isn’t a mark on him, nor any blood to indicate a shot, Gakushuu tilts his head and sees a little bit of light reflect off a crack in the asphalt. Damn . 

“What was Reaper shooting at?” 

“Didn’t you see? Someone shot him! The bullet hit the wall!” 

“There’s another assassin?” 

“Stay low, we don’t know who they are or what they want.” Karasuma says. “Just because he aimed for Reaper, doesn’t mean he’s on our side.”

“He’s long gone.” Irina. “See the hell of bullets Reaper shot on the ceiling? Any assassin worth his salt would have taken off by now. They’re not hanging around waiting to get caught by any of us.”

Good point. Thanks. Gakushuu leaves as quickly as he can, although there’s a swarm of police already cordoning off the place that he could have done without. He would have loved to get the bullet back, but he saw Karasuma slip it into a ziploc. If he didn’t hand it to the police Gakushuu might have tried stealing it off of him, but he doubts the bullet would go anywhere but Investigation.

any version of ^ the above drafts where Gakuhou knows about 3-E

I took some parts of this conversation and put it into the published fic, but seeing it in it's original context makes more sense, I think

Gakushuu would love to shove this in his father’s face, but he knows that in the grand scheme of things his shot did essentially nothing - one could argue that it bought time, but a second mattered less to a professional of Reaper’s caliber than what the media might portray - Karasuma was in good condition to end the fight.

He reports to his father as propriety requires but he’s bitter as he does so, and as expected, the response is less than stellar.

“I told you,” his father says with mild reprimand, with the audacity to insinuate that this had been his plan the entire while. “They didn’t need your help.”

“You didn’t know that,” Gakushuu hisses, slamming a palm on the heavy mahogany of the desk, “you could never have planned that. You were prepared to send them to their deaths! They’re children!”

“And they emerged unscathed,” his father says, infuriatingly smug. “Of course it’s a ludicrous notion to imagine that I’ve deduced their actions down to the second but surely you have the foresight to see that with Koro-sensei, Karasuma and Irina, they never would have lost. You should have more faith in your classmates, Asano.”

Gakushuu’s fists tremble. “They were against Reaper . Even you wouldn’t go up against Reaper. You were prepared to let them die.”

“And what if I did?” His father leans forward. “What satisfaction would you gain from my admission? I knowingly and willingly sent a class of middle school children to be slaughtered like lambs under the century’s most notorious serial killer.”

“Drowned,” Gakushuu spits, “he was going to drown them.”

“That’s not a pleasant experience,” Gakuhou says. There’s a little smirk quirked on his lips. “You would know that, wouldn’t you?”

Gakushuu glares at him, speechless in supplication.

“Surely you’re not second guessing my morals now,” Gakuhou says, easing back into his chair. “The lives of 28 children wouldn’t even put a dent on my list - or yours, might I remind you, in case you’ve suddenly developed an unnecessary conscience. Are you perhaps worried about them, Asano? Did you go from wishing to crush 3-E beneath your heel to developing an attachment ? How adorable.” 

“I wish you would had just left me in the fucking Bronx,”  Gakushuu snaps, and he turns around and leaves his father to ruminate in the darkness of his office. 

Post-finals (after the slap)

One idea I had at first was for Gakushuu and Gakuhou to get into a real, actual, physical fight after results release.

I figured it would be inconsistent because it would happen after Gakuhou's visit to 3-E and his talk with Koro-sensei, so he would be nicer/have had a change of heart after that and not try to kill his son. And also fight scenes are not my forte.

My published fic had Gakushuu get a broken arm during his fight with Koro-sensei, but in a previous version he actually gets it in a fight with Gakuhou, and yes he goes fight Koro-sensei with a broken arm anyways.

the original scene I wrote where Gakushuu freaks out and immediately joins 3-E

"I want in," Gakushuu grits out, hot tears running down his face, salt stinging the cuts on his cheek and the scrapes over his knuckles as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, "as soon as possible. How quickly can you get me into the fucking classroom?"

and that's pretty much it for most of the scenes I didn't include!

Chapter Text

huh

“Sensei, what did you do?!”

Koro-sensei, understandably, freaks out. “I didn’t do anything!!”

In front and center of the 3-E classroom, twenty eight tiny children are crying.

“Sensei!” 

Nobody expects to walk into their classroom on a school day to see their giant yellow octopus of a teacher trying to wrangle and soothe a class of elementary school kids.

Nobody expects to walk into their classroom on a school day and see elementary school versions of themselves .

“Koro-sensei,” Isogai says sternly, after everything has calmed down. Karasuma-sensei arrived just as they kicked Koro-sensei out (“you’re a 3 meter tall giant monster, of course you’re scaring them, get lost!”), and had ducked out of handling tiny children to instead call Bitch-sensei for help. The children take the news of apparently being in the future rather well, considering that once Koro-sensei was locked out, the tears quickly stopped. 

The children are in the age range of seven or eight, and they portray (a little unpleasantly) a rather accurate reflection of recollections. Little Kayano, or rather little Akari, jet black hair and powdered blush on her cheeks, seem enamored with her counterpart’s green locks (“is this for a new role?”) Little Nagisa has long hair, which the older Nagisa makes a face at and quickly pull into the same pigtails he wears.

But there was some sort of connection or kinship when meeting yourself, it seems. Little Itona, who seems more skittish and tinier than the most, practically runs headfirst into a stunned Itona and knocks him over. 

Kataoka tells the class that Koro-sensei is just their weird very human teacher in a funny suit, and everyone gets settled with their younger counterpart. 

...Except for one little Gakushuu Asano, who’d hopped onto the seat teacher’s desk at the corner of the classroom and watched everybody with a wide-eyed, far too disconcerting gaze.

Karasuma-sensei gingerly lets Koro-sensei in with a glare, and Koro-sensei sobs like the dramatic b*tch he is.

Oh, no swearing in front of the kids. Wait, what do we call-

B- uh, Irina-Sensei kicks the door in, hauling with her a whole mountain of grocery bags. “I heard your distress call and I’m here to save the day!”

Irina-Sensei, somehow now perhaps the only qualified adult (Karasuma-sensei looked like he’d get a heart attack if he had to talk to anyone younger than fourteen) had the good sense to bring juice boxes and snacks with her. 

“So, now that we have this, uh, it all out of the way,” Karasuma-sensei says, awkwardly. “Octopus, what?!”

“I don’t know!” Koro-sensei starts, and he starts blubbering, and sobbing, and waving his many many tentacles, the kids start looking close to tears, and then Karasuma-sensei cuts his losses and kicks him out of the classroom again.

Ritsu, who doesn’t have a younger counterpart because yes, looks distressed. “He just came in through the window with them! He was trying to get me to analyze them, I don’t think he knows where they’re from, either.”

The children stare at her starry-eyed.

“The future is so cool,” Little Takebayashi says.

Little Asano sips his juice box and says, “why is everyone in my dad’s classroom?”

The tables are shifted to the sides, everyone sits in a large circle, introductions are made, and the children get along like a house on fire.

Even little Asano, which is a little weird at first, but he’s seven.

He’d led Irina-sensei to dig out a toy chest full of blocks in one of the storage rooms no one really goes into and then started sneezing up a storm. But legos are legos, dust is cleaned up, and the children are having a blast.

All Karasuma-sensei got out of Koro-sensei was a teary “I don’t know! I was flying and then I closed my eyes and then I opened my eyes and they were there!”

“You can’t close your eyes,” is all Karasuma-sensei says.

Koro-sensei says, “I know!” 

“Well,” Karasuma-sensei says. “We clearly have to do something .”

Irina-sensei says, “you mean, we have to find a place to keep them?”

The children, oblivious, continue playing amongst each other. Everyone else gape at each other in horror.

Karasuma-sensei sighs, and pulls out his phone.

It takes ten minutes for Principal Asano to make his way up to the old classroom on top of the hill. Ten minutes, since Karasuma-sensei gave him a call and then gave him a second call after he hung up the first one to emphasize that it was an emergency, so ten minutes since he had to postpone his meeting with a sharp smile that made his investors apologize for him having to postpone instead, and that means ten minutes of slowly ruminating all the ways he’s going to take his headache out of the stupid octopus, and-

“What are you doing,” he says, flatly, to the octopus peeking into his own classroom from the keyhole in the door. 

Koro-sensei shrieks in alarm. “A-ah! Principal Asano! I-I was just- wait don’t go in!”

The door slams open. Everyone jumps. The temperature in the room drops.

Five of the kids start crying.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”

Ten more kids start crying.

Karasuma-sensei delicately clears his throat. “Principal. As you can see, there is a bit of a, uhm, delicate situation-”

“Father,” little Asano says, as he stalks up to his father with a sharp glint in his eye, reminiscent of the older Gakushuu Asano that everyone in 3-E knows so well. 

Principal Asano gapes wordlessly down at him.

Then Little Asano opens his mouth and says, “With all respect, you should lower down your an-mosity. You’re scaring my acquaintances.”

Everyone gapes at him.

“With all due respect,” Principal Asano corrects, defaulting to teacher-mode still in shock. “ An-i-mos-i-ty .”

Little Asano rolls the word on his tongue a few times, nods to himself, then wordlessly goes back to his original spot on the floor to pick up a lego piece.

“We can arrange for alternative lodgings at one of the dormitories for now,” Karasuma-sensei says, rubbing his temples. “Obviously having the children house their own, selves, is not an option if we want to ensure confidentiality.”

Principal Asano’s gaze flicks to his younger son.

“The dormitories? Please,” Irina-sensei says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been to that place. It definitely doesn’t have the infrastructure for twenty-eight eight-year-olds.”

“...A sleepover?” Koro-sensei suggests, tentacles wriggling. 

Karasuma-sensei shoots him a glare.

“That seems like the most plausible option,” Principal Asano says slowly.

“This classroom is no place for an overnight stay,” Irina-sensei points out. “They’re babies. They’ll probably start crying without their teddy bear, or a bed.” Then she looks pointedly at Principal Asano, who awkwardly looks away.

“When I heard you cancelled a meeting, I knew something fishy was going on! It’s always 3-E this, 3-E that with you, I knew something was up and holy f-”

Principal Asano grabs the nearest thing and launches it at full speed towards his teenage son’s head.

The nearest thing is a textbook. 

Asano, frozen in shock, goes down. 

Karasuma-sensei glares at him.

Principal Asano says, “I was expecting him to catch it!’

Two children start crying.

Little Asano says, “was that me? Did you just kill me?!”

“This is a concussion-fueled hallucination,” Asano says diplomatically, once he gets up. He’s swaying a little.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Principal Asano says, “you don’t have a concussion.”

“How is that, in any way, for you to decide?” Asano says. “I see a giant yellow octopus, a tiny me, and doubles of everyone else.”

“Everything you’ve just described is real,” Principal Asano says, squinting at his son. He drags the younger Asano into the light and inspects his head. “Shit, you do have a concussion.”

“Why did you throw a book at him?!” Karasuma-sensei says, rolling out the first-aid kit.

“I told you, I expected him to catch it!”

“I don’t want to go to the mean man’s house!” Little Terasaka wails.

He’s not alone in the sentiment. All the kids are protesting. 

Principal Asano, banished to sulk outside with Koro-sensei after dabbing too hard with antiseptic on Asano’s head wound and making him hiss in pain and making Little Asano scold him for hurting him more and making more kids panic because mean-man-is-being-mean-again, sulks more. (He’s a teacher, goddammit, he’s supposed to be good with kids!)

“Why can’t we go home?!”

Karasuma-sensei looks panicked. “Um-”

Irina-sensei sighs. “Looks like they may have to slum it out in the dormitories then.”

There’s a discussion happening in the back of class, and finally Karma speaks up. “They can come back to mine. My parents aren’t home, anyways.”

“Some of us can sleep over and help watch the kids,” Maehara suggests.

“Sleep,” the older Asano agrees. “That sounds good. I have a headache. I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“No!” Little Asano suddenly yelps, drawing everyone’s attention, but he just slapped himself. “You can’t fall asleep with a concussion! You’ll die!”

Asano cracks open an eye to glare at him. (Little Asano is unaffected.) “Let me die.”

“Um,” Karasuma-sensei says.

“No!” Little Asano says, empathetically. “We promised not to die until we’re grown-up!”

The door slams open. “WHAT?!”

Little Asano claps his hands over his mouth. He’s been exceedingly calm since he got here, likely because of the familiar environment and his general sociable nature, but suddenly his eyes are wide and watery.

“Go away,” Asano says, waving in the general direction of the doorway. “You’re scaring the kids.”

“What does that mean?!” Principal Asano demands.

Little Asano, aged seven and a half, bursts into tears.

"Okay," Karma says loudly. "So I have Asano penned down for the sleepover. Who else is coming?"

Asano, who should not be walking around, is walking around as he bounces his younger self on his hip and cooing to him as he cries his heart out.

Principal Asano has been banished to the storage room, where he is also freaking out. 

"This is the weirdest concussion dream I've had," Asano says absently. 

"Mhm," Irina-sensei says to him. "Do you want a juice box?"

"Yes please."

"So mean-man's definitely not coming, right?" A teary Little Hayami asks.

"Of course not," Hayami says seriously. "I will shoot him if he comes."

"Wait," Asano says, eyes wide. "Are those real?"

Hayami quickly hides her gun, the same time everyone in class scrambles to shove their weapons in the desks. "No."

Gakuhou: so what exactly happened again

Koro-sensei, sobbing: I don't know

Ritsu: I DONT KNOW

Gakuhou: come on, Asano (the older one), let's go to the hospital-

Isogai (the younger one): No!! We can't let you kidnap him, mean man!

Gakuhou: this isn't kidnapping, i'm his father!

Kanzaki (the younger one): everyone knows fathers suck!

3e: yeah pretty much

Nagisa's hair: exists

The girls: it's free real estate

Kayano (the younger one): i miss sis

Kayano (the older one): me too man

Kayano (the younger one): what

Kayano (the older one): what

Asano (the older one): zzz

Karma (the older one): who's turn is it to wake him up lmao

Nakamura (the older one): let's spin the comically large wheel of names that we made for this specific reason

Karma (the younger one): i hope it's me. i want to put wasabi in his mouth

Terasaka (the older one): so akabane was just born like that, huh

Chapter Text

I have been really mean to Gakushuu even back then huh????

date of origin: 16 February 2019

It’s a little poetic, Gakushuu would think much later, something about the inner strength of a person when they’re unarmed and cornered, right after his mind goes into tangents about weapons and definitions of, and he concludes that yes, Gakushuu’s greatest weapon had always been his words, and now he doesn’t know what to do, except keep his head high and pretends the tears aren’t going to fall.

He’s never felt so helpless in his life, he’s never had himself backed into a wall like this, logically Gakushuu knows he’s not to blame for whatever consequences that stems from this; he’s fifteen for god’s sake, not like he was lured into the back of a van with the promise of sweets but the guilt clawing up his chest is mocking him with a voice that’s sounding just a tad too similar to the principal- his father , if only he had been slightly more vigilant and hadn’t skipped those few training sessions, maybe he wouldn’t have been snatched from the fucking front gates of the school like this was some bad soap drama-

ok sorry I don't want to disrupt the flow of reading or anything like that but I read this first two paragraphs that is literally one sentence each and ok??? I have never heard of full stops. I have never heard of sentence breaks. I am so sorry.

I truly overdid it with the prose. The descriptions. The way too long sentences. Who is this 2019 Gwen. Who are you. I was out of my mind. 

Everything right now is a huge wall of text and honestly even I can't read it. I would like everyone to know that 2021 Gwen did her best to break up so it's legible.

The moment his hands come untied, he’s clapping them over his mouth, h e wants to throw up so badly and the room is spinning.

He can’t even question why 3-E is here or why they look like they’ve just stepped out of a secret agent fiction with stealth suits and are apparently rescuing him. 

He’s having a panic attack, he realizes as much, when exclamations of concern and questions start flooding in and Isogai is saying something to him and Gakushuu can’t hear it, he can’t focus well enough to read lips but he sees Isogai’s mouth moving.

“-reathe, breathe, Asano,” Isogai is saying, Gakushuu realizes, once the ringing in his ears dies down a little and it seems to be the effect of the still-smoking doorway that blew up, holy shit, did 3-E blow up a door? They broke into a kidnapper’s hideout, jesus fuck-

“-Asano!” Isogai’s grabbing him by the shoulders and snapping him out of his thoughts, “are you alright? How badly are you hurt? Can you tell us what happened?”

He swallows a bit of blood and gags, and something must happen because the students crowding him scatter, and someone falls into view. It’s the teacher from 3-E who Gakushuu exchanged few greetings with on the very sparse occasions they pass each other and he does seem to fit the secret agent narrative.

Gakushuu hysterically wonders, is this what my father has been hiding from me all this time? 3-E is the secret-service in training? And Karasuma-sensei kneels down in front of him and says words that Gakushuu cannot hear and Gakushuu-

“Fuck,” is the first word that rings clearly in Gakushuu’s head, and Karasuma-sensei’s growing horror on his face seems to echo that sentiment, when Gakushuu forces himself to wrench his hands away to open his mouth and blood pours from his lips and runs down his chin.

Whatever that’s left of his tongue falls with a sickening splat on the floor between them.

Then it’s all a blur, Gakushuu doesn’t remember much else of whatever happens in the time elapsed from tasting bits of his own flesh to waking up in a hospital room.

What he does remember is a lot of screaming, an unfair amount of screaming, really, given that Gakushuu’s the one with an actual injury and 3-E seems mostly unscathed other than mentally, (and Gakushuu, much later when he finally finds some dark humor in the whole ordeal, would feel slightly proud that he still had the flair for the dramatic without his words, a comment which makes Isogai make a face and Akabane hi-five him.)

He must have passed out at some point because Gakushuu remembers seeing Akabane and thinking “who decided to give this boy a gun?” and then he remembers nothing at all, and then he’s opening his eyes to a hospital room.

The first thing he realizes is that his entire body aches, and the second is that he can’t feel anything in his mouth. He panics, he brings his fingers up to his face and presses them against his bruised cheeks, feels numbness and wetness and low throbbing pain around his jaw, and then sticks a finger in his mouth.

And pulls it back out, and turns to see the principal- no, his father, making a pained face. He doesn’t expect to see his father there but he should, really, Gakushuu opens his mouth then shuts it as quickly, heart beating hard.

“Gakushuu,” his father’s voice breaks, “Gakushuu, you-”

Gakushuu makes a noise, that sounds like something clawing at the back of his throat, then covers his mouth with both his hands. Shuts his eyes. Opens them when Gakuhou cradles his face with a tenderness Gakushuu hasn’t felt from him in years and asks, “are you okay?”

Gakushuu, with a sinking feeling, knows that he absolutely isn’t , but he can’t even vocalize the thought; he physically can’t open his mouth, his body wouldn’t let him, and what good would that do anyways? His hands stay over his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Gakuhou says, and Gakushuu thinks that he looks like a mess, a far cry from the professional persona he always has on even in his own house, and Gakushuu might have made a snark remark but he can’t, he can’t and he won’t ever be able to, he won’t ever speak again-

The sound that escapes through his lips is a grosteque, inhuman one.

Gakuhou moves his hands and wipes a tear from Gakushuu’s cheek and he hasn’t even noticed that he’s started to cry, but now he can’t stop, and he’s shaking and heaving and hiccupping and his father holds him, and he won’t ever be able to-

Gakushuu quickly learns that silence is something he cannot stand, in the short hour between his doctor’s checkup and his father’s return with Gakushuu’s belongings. Blood is rushing in his ears and he’s normally fine with working in quiet environments with nothing but a paper and pen to occupy him, and he’d always chosen to stay quiet but now the option is taken from him. It suffocates him. 

When Gakuhou returns, Gakushuu’s crying silently. He knows he can still make noise, but it’s undignified butchering of actual words and he doesn’t want to hear himself, he doesn’t want to feel humiliated.

Gakushuu doesn’t know how long it’s been.

Time doesn’t pass in the white expanse of nothingness of a room they kept him in, suits filtering in and out and medical staff methodological and evasive. He spends most of the time drifting in and out of consciousness, falling asleep to his father’ warm presence and waking up to a new assortment of IV drips being plugged into his body. They’re running tests of sorts that his father grows increasingly antsy about as time passes.

He’s never been this out of the loop before, Gakushuu thinks, he’s never been the person in the room that knows the least, but here he’s the only one who has no idea what’s going the fuck on.

People talk over his head and Gakushuu can’t say a single word about it. He scrunches his sheets under his fists and bows his head and focuses on listening and piecing together the clues of the puzzle, wondering how 3-E fit into all of this.

Gakushuu hates it, the silence, people ignoring him like he’s not there; his father gives his hand a squeeze. Something is said about Gakushuu being cleared for visitors but Gakushuu’s not ready to see anyone, he can’t talk his way out of it or explain why he’s sitting in a hospital bed, everyone’s going to jump to their own conclusions and think he’s weak, he’s vulnerable-

He comes down from another panic attack and roughly pushes the principal away. He won’t be able to explain what’s wrong so he just shakes his head and buries his face in his hands. It’s expected, someone is trying to reassure his father, post traumatic stress disorder is perfectly normal- 

He can’t say a thing, he won’t ever be able to say a thing again. He’s trapped, in his own little world with his thoughts, he never spoke his mind but now he wants to go back and say whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Why didn’t he use his voice when he still had it? He’d never truly understood taking privileges for granted.

The government agent who boredly watches him read through the papers and gives the monotonous spiel of how Gakushuu “can’t breathe a word of this to anyone” and then blanches at his word choice. Gakushuu almost appreciates how funny his expression turns.

He continues to look over the contract, of non-disclosure, the details of the mis-happenings of class 3-E and the true nature of their infamous Koro-sensei.

And yes, it does turn out that Karasuma-sensei is, indeed, a secret agent.

Gakushuu’s not surprised that he gets visitors after he’s apparently “cleared” for it.

He supposes he should already know that 3-E would check up on him, but he certainly isn’t prepared all of them crowding into his hospital room at once. He’s grateful but mostly embarrassed; he’s at his lowest point and he wants no one to see him, not even his father, but he’s kept his cool thus far in front of most of the student body so he forces himself to hold his head high and keeps his mouth shut tight.

“I made you soup,” Muramatsu stammers, and Gakushuu wants to thank him but he can’t do that because he can’t use his mouth for an undetermined period of time which also means he can’t eat, and that fact seems to strike Muramatsu the same time as it does the rest of the class because they look down guilty at their gifts of food items.

“I told you not to get him food,” Akabane huffs quietly from where he’s perched on the windowsill, and he makes eye contact with Gakushuu and winces a little, and Gakushuu realizes that it’s him trying to be nice and apologetic.

I t touches him, in a odd way, like the fact that 3-E even bothered to visit him - he knew Isogai and Kataoka would come, out of obligation if anything as the class representatives, but it’s not like he got along well with any of the 3-E members so there was no reason to pay him a visit.

“You didn’t say why,” Terasaka mutters, and he must be feeling pretty bad too because Gakushuu’s previous interactions with him had been loud and brash and he seems pretty subdued now. The whole class is, Gakushuu observes, regarding him with varying levels of guilt and pity, and it hits him like a ton of bricks that they think this entire situation and him in the hospital bed is their fault.

Stupid, really. Gakushuu feels a little contrite, it’s none of their faults; not his, not his father’s, not 3-E’s, that some madman had decided to take revenge on “those wretched excuse for children” by kidnapping “the beloved prince of Kunugigaoka High”.

Gakushuu had been flabbergasted about the lack of rationality in that particular process of thought, back when he was still in the initial phase of regarding said kidnapper as merely a minor inconvenience and thought that he should be able to talk himself out of the situation if the man was as deluded as he seems. Look where that got him?

Talking. He always talks, words are his weapon of choice and he’s been great at it, perfecting it for years under the mentorship and against the rival that is his father, he’s always known what to say and when to say it to get him out of trouble, not that it worked for his father but it did for everyone else, and now he’s been stripped bare of said weapon and he’s open and weak-

Not that his words did anything to help him, in the end. Maybe if he had thought a little faster or bitten his tongue when he got shot in the leg he might have still had it, but he had to scream because it fucking hurt and that man had to turn his nose like Gakushuu’s pain merely inconvenienced him and say, “I’m going to shut the kid up.”

You could still make noise without a tongue, so on hindsight the coherence of the action didn’t quite make sense much like the entire kidnapping plan, but it did work. Gakushuu had briefly blacked out and woken up to choking on his own blood and saliva and the worst of feelings in his life.

“I should have killed him,” Nagisa spits, Gakushuu’s taken aback by the sudden hostility. And he’s more bewildered when the rest of the class agrees. 

“He was the one who liked to talk the most shit,” Kanzaki snarls, and there seemed to be a lot Gakushuu didn’t know about 3-E, after all. 

“How dare he,” Yada hisses, and Maehara very coldly promises Gakushuu to find that man and cut him up into little pieces, and then the door opens and Gakushuu recognizes Karasuma-sensei, who shoos the class out tiredly and gives Gakushuu a nod when he shuts the door. 

He feels exhausted after the encounter, 3-E stayed for barely 30 minutes but he’s drained. The gifts are left on his table as an act of goodwill but he knows the pastries would mostly go to the hospital staff. He doesn’t really feel bad about it, he’d watched Akabane snag a cookie off the tupperware before he left.

3-E is alright, he adds as an afterthought, to be the first people to see him like this. They were the ones who rescued him, tied up and figuratively gagged and looking the worst he could ever possibly look in his life, that seeing him in the ward must have been a drastic upgrade.

It makes him feel substantially better. 

3-E’s other teacher, who Gakushuu now knows isn’t a teacher at all but must be doing something right with the way 3-E are acing their language examinations, also pays him a visit.

She’s pretty in an understated way, and looks at him without pity, which is a refreshing change Gakushuu appreciates but is also wary of. She doesn’t make small talk Gakushuu can’t return, that Isogai forces himself to suffer through while his classmates watch on commiseratingly.

“I’ve had a lot of things taken from me,” she says, “I know a thing or two about being helpless and hopeless. I’ve been voiceless for a very long time, in a world where your words may be your strongest weapon, and I’m sorry they took that away from you. But I’m here to offer you a piece of advice I wish someone told me when I was your age.” She smiles a little. “Your voice isn’t the only way you can speak.”

She pats his head and Gakushuu stares up at her with wide eyes, feeling a little like a puppy. “You’re a strong kid,” she says almost flippantly, “You’ll live.”

He will, Gakushuu thinks, won’t he.

Shortly after that, his doctor gives him the ok to be discharged and Gakushuu counts down the days to finally going back to his house. He doesn’t want to see a single white sheet again, and he wants to be able to cry in his room in peace without a nurse checking up on him. He feels practically ready to burst in sad emotions and self-dread, and then the unthinkable horror happens: the virtuosos come to visit.

Gakushuu has no way of telling his father that he thinks this is a horrible, horrible idea. Frantically waving his hands and shaking his head is beneath him, although he’s desperately considering throwing a silent tantrum like a child. He can’t face the virtuosos. What will he say? 

The principal looks at him with a pitying expression and Gakushuu feels baited and he nods his head before the true realization of what he agreed to struck him. But it’s too late to back out now, he’d already agreed and changing his mind would be too much of a weakness even as his father reiterates that it would be perfectly fine if Gakushuu didn’t want to see them.

It’s stupid and petty but Gakushuu’s sense of logic is pretty screwed now; if he’s vulnerable in one area he needs to make up for it in another, stubbornness be damned.

“Do you want me to… explain anything?” His father sounds hesitant. It’s a refreshing sight for Gakushuu, despite the morbid setting for it, whose used to Gakuhou spitting at his face like he knows Gakushuu would be crawling up from hell with split palms and scraped knees just to flip him the bird. Now he skirts around awkwardly, sometimes he slips up and asks a question and then contorts his face and apologizes , and sometimes he cards his fingers through Gakushuu’s hair and tells him that everything will be fine in a way that seems like he’s trying to convince himself of that, too. 

Gakushuu hates it. It’s uncomfortable and he wants to be able to talk it out with his father, disregarding the very obvious reason of why he can’t. Maybe he’ll write a letter. Or they’ll have to text each other, once the mountain of bandages are gone from his hands. 

But that was the problem for later. Gakushuu shakes his head, and Gakuhou looks incredibly put off, but he fetches the four assholes that Gakushuu finds incredibly relieved to see. They’re still stiff and wary of Gakuhou, but practically collapse on the hospital bed the moment he leaves.

“Gakushuu!” Ren, ever-dramatic, wails. Gakushuu misses him. 

“What happened to you?” Seo says, clambering over one side of the bed with Koyama gripping at the sheets with knuckles the same shade of white. “Are you alright?! We heard you were kidnapped.”

“By some crazy person,” Koyama adds, “your dad- uh, the principal didn’t say much else.” From what Gakushuu deduced from 3-E’s very brief and acidic recounts from the man, and the fact that he cut off Gakushuu’s tongue with a pair of rusty blunt kitchen scissors, it’s not far from the truth. 

“We baked some cookies in case you were bored of hospital food,” Araki says earnestly, and the other three chiming in about the ingredients and the mishaps they encountered trying to prepare the snack and the many many people asking about Gakushuu back at school, and it occurs to him suddenly, what a ridiculous situation this is.  

He laughs and it’s like a gasp of air that got startled out of him, and then shame is creeping back up on the back of his neck, and he immediately shuts it. 

Everyone pauses. Ren says, “are you alright?” And draws back in hurt when Gakushuu doesn’t respond, instead staring back in silence.

Gakushuu wants to respond to him. He does, he wants to say something, he wants to tell Ren to stop chasing skirts because he’ll tug the wrong ponytail one day but he also wants to tell Ren that he’s his best friend. He wants to tell Araki he’s a little shit that should respect personal boundaries but takes beautiful pictures, he wants to tell Seo that he’s a little fucking bitch that could stand to be a little nicer but he cooked well, he wants to tell Koyama that he’s an annoying fucker who needs to learn to shut up sometimes, but is pretty good at origami.  

Gakushuu lets out a whine, and cuts himself off abruptly. Presses his palms to his mouth. 

“Asano?” Araki says, startled. 

“Gakushuu,” Ren’s voice breaks, “please, talk to us.”

This is a bad idea. Maybe he should have said no instead, but there’s no way he can call out to someone for help now, short of slamming the call button above his bed. They would understand, Gakushuu thinks, if not, his father would and explain to the medical professionals that his son’s four friends’ visit was too emotionally overwhelming for him to handle. Gakushuu is 98% sure the principal would say so gently, but the mockery of his father’s voice in his head still has a sarcastic patronizing tone to it.

Gakushuu shakes his head. But the gods must pity him in some way because the door opens, and it’s Isogai, with a paper bag in his hands and here to save Gakushuu from emotional turmoil. Gakushuu practically slumps over in relief.

“I didn’t know you had visitors,” Isogai says, “I can come back later.”

“Oh, what’s he doing here,” Koyama says, eyes narrowed. Seo bristles, “he got to visit us before you?” 

“Well sorry about that,” Isogai says a little meanly. “I didn’t realize that there was a waiting list for-” Then his words die down when Isogai glances over at Gakushuu, eyes turning wide and sorry. Gakushuu doesn’t want to know how much of a mess he looks like right now.

“They don’t know, do they,” Isogai says, eyes darting between the four, and Asano. 

“Know what?” Koyama demands.

Isogai ignores them. He walks over to place the bag on the table and Ren gives an aggravated exclaim when he gets displaced from being next to Gakushuu but Isogai gracefully sidesteps his complaints and sits down on the bed between them. “Do you want me to get them to leave?” 

“Get us to leave?!” Ren rages, “who does he think-”

Gakushuu’s not sure now, he wanted them to give him space but Isogai’s presence just makes things more complicated, and his thoughts are muddled but Isogai snaps at Ren to “shut up for a moment and let him think,” and by some miracle it works, and Ren shuts his mouth with an annoyed click.

Slowly, Gakushuu shakes his head. They’re a comforting presence, maybe he’ll just want Ren by his side for a moment but he’s not sure how to… convey the message, and he doubts the other three would leave willingly before they get answers. They’re still his, friends, and he doesn’t want them to leave on a bad note, even if they’re exhausting him now.

“Okay,” Isogai says, “do you want me to leave?” He looks so genuinely concerned, and Gakushuu is reminded why Isogai is his favorite of the class representatives, not that he ever mentioned it. He feels immense guilt now, threatening to get him expelled for having a job when he clearly needs the money, at that time he had been thinking that Isogai had so much potential but was clearly slacking off in his studies since he held a part-time job and had felt bitter for… no apparent reason, a collective rage at his father and losing to 3-E that he directed at the poor boy. 

But here Isogai was, ready to defend him and shutting Ren up with a sharp glare before he started a tirade and then turning back and smiling again at Gakushuu with all the patience in the world. 

Gakushuu appreciates him. He’ll text him an apology, once all of this calms down and he gets his fine motor functions back.

Gakushuu shakes his head. At that, the four obliges and Ren sourly makes space for Isogai, and Gakushuu knows Ren long enough to know that the dumbass feels aggrieved, and even indignant that Isogai was seemingly dictating his actions, and that Gakushuu is communicating with him but not anyone else.

Isogai takes the paper bag, hesitates, then pulls out a plush toy. It’s a stuffed octopus that’s bright yellow, and he hastily shoves it into Gakushuu’s hands. “I, um I mean 3-E, we wanted you to have this. For, uhm, okay, you’ll understand, uh, later. For good luck.”

Good luck, huh. He turns the octopus over in his hands. It’s nice and soft, although an awkward size to hold and way too many limbs to comfortably hug. It’s kind of wonky looking, and it’s wearing a black tie with a crescent moon on it. 

Gakushuu thinks, the moon’s missing a part of it permanently, just like he is.

“Do you want me to… uh,” Isogai says. He gestures awkwardly to the four, and then shrugs like he’s not sure what he’s asking either. Gakushuu’s not entirely certain what he wants Isogai to help him do, if he wants Isogai to help at all.  

“The whole story? As much as I can anyways,” Isogai offers. 

Gakushuu bites his lip, but it’s not like he can tell them himself that he… can’t tell them, so he inclines his head as a yes. The virtuosos are regarding Isogai with apprehension, and their looks are demanding answers that Gakushuu can’t give, no matter how hard he wants to. 

He suddenly feels extremely tired. Something in his face must show because Isogai moves and, and it’s been a long week, the first face he sees was Isogai pulling off the blindfold and it was him who sat with Gakushuu in the ambulance trying hard not to cry as he jumbles his words to attempt to explain the situation, whose probably doing all of these and visiting him more often out of some obligation as class representative, but… Gakushuu’s tired, he’s tired of everything. He curls forward and leans against Isogai, which makes everyone start in surprise. Isogai, first to recover, places a hand on Gakushuu’s back.

“What is-” Ren starts.

“He can’t speak,” Isogai interrupts. 

Gakushuu closes his eyes and sighs.

“The hell you mean he can’t speak?” Seo says.

“Asano can’t talk,” Isogai repeats, and cringes. It’s an odd time to think of Ms Jelavic, but Gakushuu does. He opens his eyes, holds out his left hand, and starts spells out S-O-M-E in sign. He’s met with four blank stares, and Isogai who doesn’t know sign language but gets it. 

“He can’t speak in… most languages,” Isogai corrects.

“Is… this a prank?” Araki finally speaks up.

“No,” Isogai says. 

“What?” Ren demands.

Isogai takes a deep breath. “You guys… heard he got kidnapped, right?” 

“Yeah,” Seo says cautiously.

“He,” Isogai’s eyes dart furtively, and he takes a deep breath. “His kidnapper cut his tongue off.”

There are four sharp intakes of breath, and Gakushuu prepares himself for the onslaught of screams and questions and demands of proof and promises of revenge, such as with 3-E, except it doesn’t come. When he lifts his head up and the four are staring at him in abject consternation, and Isogai looks ready to kill. 

Finally Ren breaks the tension with a, “what the fuck?” and then the belated screaming comes. Gakushuu doesn’t even want to face the disappointed looks of the four virtuosos, (there’s no more five of them, he thinks mockingly, they’ll have to slum it out without him or maybe replace him with, shockingly, Akabane)s. Gakuhou must be standing nearby, because the door opens and Gakushuu hears the four idiots quieten down and squeak out a stiff hello, before retreating.

Gakushuu has never been more grateful to have his father scare off his friends in his life, really.

“Principal Asano,” Isogai greets politely, and they exchange small talk before Gakushuu opens his eyes again to see his father’s bemused look. Isogai looks rather embarrassed and makes a hasty retreat like the other four. 

Gakuhou, thankfully, doesn’t bring it up. He stares at the octopus plush and says, “how cute. That looks exactly like Koro-sensei.”

Gakushuu gives him an incredulous look that can only be interpreted as, what the genuine fuck do you mean?

His father hums smugly and seems to be considering a snide remark, then seems to remember that Gakushuu can’t defend himself and looks lost. Gakushuu huffs and sits the octopus plush in front of him, and his father pats his head as what Gakushuu recognizes as a clumsy apology. 

He very quickly realizes what Gakuhou means, staring at Koro-sensei without his hideous human disguise, yellow tentacles flailing and he speeds around the field as his class carries modified military weapons and try to kill him.

Class 3-E is insane. 

They notice him when his father very quickly blocks a knife from embedding itself into Gakushuu’s forehead, but there’s really no need when he takes the weapon and sees that it’s made from something rubbery. All their bullet pellets seem to be made of the same material as well, he notes, bouncing effortlessly off the trees and their other classmates that stray shots hit but apparently useful at killing their target?

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Hara says, “I aimed wrong.” Gakushuu gives her a little smile. 

“Asano and Asano, welcome to my assassination classroom,” Koro-sensei greets, way too excited. 

“Ignore sensei,” Akabane sighs theatrically, flipping a knife, “he’s just sad and lonely because Karasuma-sensei’s doing official stuff and Bitch-sensei won’t play with him.”

Bitch-sensei? Was that an unfortunate name, or a deliberate insult? Gakuhou seems unperturbed, and the class rolls their eyes at that, and Ms Jelavic rolls her eyes from where she’s lounging in a bench and watching the kids. She nods at Gakushuu and Gakuhou in greeting.

Gakushuu catches Ms Jelavic’s eye, raises his left hand, and fingerspells H-I.

She looks delighted and signs back to him. YOU UNDERSTAND?

S-O-M-E-W-H-A-T, Gakushuu signs.

When they’re walking back down to the main campus, Gakuhou says, “I didn’t know you knew sign language.”

Gakushuu shrugs. 

“I was going to. Suggest it,” Gakuhou says. Then, “I’ll learn it.”

Gakushuu almost trips in surprise, but his crutches catch him. Is… his father… attempting conversation? 

Funny how they’re communicating more than they used to, now that Gakushuu can’t speak.

Ren fumbles and drops his books when he spots Gakushuu across the hallway. Gakushuu’s pretty certain the only reason he doesn’t run over is the principal standing next to him. And thank god too, because the other students are practically vibrating with curiosity but they’re all giving the principal wide berth. 

“Stop your gawking,” Gakuhou sighs, sounding exactly like Gakushuu in the moment. “You can bother my son tomorrow. Sakakibara, my office.”

Nobody stops their gawking. Gakushuu thinks if it’s because it’s the first time Gakuhou referred to Gakushuu as his son in public.

Ren seems pretty shaken up about it. He keeps shooting Gakushuu increasingly panicked glances, and standing in the principal’s office is a very familiar scene if not for the fact that Gakushuu is currently in the plush chair behind the desk. Maybe almost losing Gakushuu made Gakuhou realize what a fucking precious gem of a son he had, Gakushuu thinks.

Gakuhou divulges slightly more information than Isogai had, abielt untruthful, stating that the kidnapper had no ulterior motive other than the fact he was off his rocks and that Gakushuu was, in fact, mute for an indefinite period of time. It’s honestly no more information that Ren already originally knows except in full sentences, but maybe hearing it confirmed made it ever the more real and gruesome. 

“Gakushuu will come back to school tomorrow,” Gakuhou says, “ I’ll break the news personally to each class so they stop gossiping but just make sure no one hounds him. Gakushuu knows sign language but I doubt anyone here does, so nevermind about that.”

Ren looks at Gakushuu pleadingly, who just shrugs. There’s nothing to be expressed in this situation. 

Gakushuu kind of dreads tomorrow but tomorrow becomes today and what the heck, he’s Gakushuu Asano, there’s nothing he can’t handle. He thinks that up until the point 3-A freezes the moment he steps through the classroom door, and instantly wants to turn around.

Masami, nearest to the door, breaks the silence first by thrusting a lunch box forward and blushing furiously. “I made you sweets to say get well soon!” She blurts.

Gakushuu looks at Ren. Everyone does.

“He can’t eat,” Ren says uncomfortably.

Gakushuu nods sadly. He’s still drinking his meals. At that, Masami starts apologizing as does half the class, and Gakushuu’s honestly grateful and offering food to hospitalized people makes sense but he can’t even chew like a normal person anymore, did this class pass biology on a fluke?

But, Gakushuu thinks a little fondly, between Masami’s blubbering and their homeroom teacher yelling for everyone to calm down and the general hysteria, he supposes they were his idiots.

As opposed to tradition for very obvious reasons, the graduating valedictorian doesn’t give the school address. Ren does, but he spends the entire speech staring at Gakushuu in the audience like some sentimental idiot. When the curtains draw and the emcee starts the final section of the ceremony, Gakushuu catches the eyes of the virtuosos and nods. 

The plan was relatively simple. Get in, rescue 3-E, flip off the nosy reporters, and get out. 

Except maybe Gakushuu didn’t account for the simple fact that he was also a topic of interest, because one of those assholes with a bit of a brain linked his kidnapping months prior to Koro-sensei, and suddenly there’s a microphone shoved in his face. The four virtuosos look panicked. Gakushuu’s pretty sure he does too. 

“Hey, asshole,” and there is someone Gakushuu never expected to come to his rescue. Akabane steps up from behind Gakushuu and aggressively snatches the microphone from the spluttering reporter, and smashes it. The feedback makes everyone wince. 

“Don’t you people have any sense of decency?” Akabane snaps, “you’re apparently incompetent too, if you don’t remember what happened during the kidnapping that you so desperately want a story about.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then someone yells, “do you have any comment on becoming mute?”

Akabane looks haunted. Gakushuu kind of wants to slap himself on the head, but it’s undignified in front of so many cameras.

The cacophony starts up again. “How does that even work?” Akabane mutters, and he pushes Gakushuu behind him to walk a few paces forward. Gakushuu doesn’t mind him leading, he feels overwhelmed, especially when he can’t tell someone off personally. 3-E clambers up the bus.

Isogai steps out of the queue. “So,” he starts, rubbing his arms, “uh, good luck at Kunugigaoka High!”

Gakushuu smiles at him. Isogai smiles back. “You should drop by the cafe I work sometimes, just to say hi. You know, the job I still have, thanks to you.”

Gakushuu winces. He never did get around to sending that text.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Isogai shrugs, “okay, you were mean about it. But it was against school rules so you were doing your job as student council president and I didn’t hold it against you for that, and you kept your promise after and didn’t tell your da-uh, the principal about it so-” and then seems to realize he was rambling, and shuts his mouth. 

Isogai waves, and clambers up the bus, and some of 3-E shoot him bewildered glances but don’t mention it. The last person on the bus is Akabane, who pauses and gives Gakushuu an unreadable expression.

Then Akabane says, “I’ll kick your ass in high school, just you wait, second-place.”

Gakushuu smirks at him. Bring it on, he tries to convey, and he knows it works because Akabane’s face breaks out into a beatific grin. Akabane extends his fist. Gakushuu fist-bumps him. Akabane looks incredibly amused, and he boards the bus. 

“What the hell was that?” Ren is the first one to ask. 

Gakushuu shrugs. A upside of this whole thing, he thinks a little morbidly, is that no one can hound him for answers now. 

The break passes all too quickly, Gakushuu goes to both therapy because he’s not too proud to admit that he needs it.

He and Gakuhou uncomfortably handle having familial relations with someone you can’t speak with while not having familial relations in the first place, and Gakushuu watches with glee as his father tries his hand at sign language. He’s learning and Gakushuu appreciates that, but it’s still funny to watch him flounder in the process.

He hangs out with the virtuosos some days, who have also taken to starting sign. Gakushuu visits Isogai at the cafe and they have coffee, and sometimes he runs into 3-E students around town and they wave and smile conspiratorially. “You’re part of us now,” Nakamura had told him casually, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t run into Akabane at all, but he meets Nagisa on the train once and he informs him that Akabane was visiting his parents overseas. He’ll be seeing the most of Akabane when school starts anyways. 

Gakushuu finds out later that most of 3-E still felt bad about what happened to him. It’s stupid, and he realizes he never addressed the situation. Isogai startles when Gakushuu walks into the cafe and blushes when he tugs his hand to pull him into a booth. Then is thoughtfully quiet when he reads the long message Gakushuu has typed out. 

“Oh,” Isogai breathes, and Gakushuu tries hard to not roll his eyes when he sees that Isogai looks unnecessarily touched. “This is-”

Send this to your class for me, Gakushuu taps out. He forwards the message to Isogai, who nods. “We should hang out more,” Isogai mumbles, and Gakushuu taps his phone meaningfully, which is how they start texting on the regular. 

Chapter Text

Fake Dating feat. Karma, Gakushuu, Rio and Kanzaki

Originally written for Karushuu Week 2021

(fake dating your best friend always seems like a good idea… until one of you becomes interested in someone else.)

Of course Karma would become Rio's fake boyfriend so she doesn't get harassed by that weirdo at his workplace. What could possibly go wrong?

"If I was actually your girlfriend," Rio says, "I would have been so offended by how you're clearly ogling my boss right now."

"Sorry," Karma says. "Wait, your boss?" Karma quickly reevaluates the man.

"No, not the same one," Rio quickly says. "Creepy boss is on your two o'clock."

"Ah," Karma says. "Different department?"

"Something like that," Rio says cryptically. She takes Karma's arm and steers him away so he stops glancing at Asano from the corner of his eye and blowing their already paper-thin. "I should have expected this. Asano is totally your type." 

"Sorry," Karma says. "I'll be a good fake-boyfriend."

"Good boy," Rio pats his cheek.

Karma nods solemnly. "I love Rio Nakamura and Rio Nakamura only."

"Okay, let's go." She hauls him to the buffet table. "That guy. Dark hair, grey suit."

"Ah," Karma glares at him. "Can I punch him in the face?"

"Preferably nothing that will get me fired."

Rio's department supervisor - Taka, if Karma remembers correctly - meanders over with a self-assured look on his face, and his smile drops for a fraction of a second when he sees Karma. Quickly replaced by a razor-thin grin. 

"Rio!" Taka says. "You look ravishing today."

"It's Nakamura to you," Rio says through gritted teeth.

"Rio," Taka bulldozes past her. "Who might this be?"

Karma steps in front of Rio, the perfect picture of a possessive lover. "I'm her boyfriend." 

He extends his hand to shake, which Taka takes with a hint of annoyance, but Karma grips his hand so hard that Taka winces.

"Oh," he says, (rubbing at his hand with a grimace). "You never mentioned anything about a-"

"What I share about my personal life is up to me," Rio says firmly.

"Yes, of course," Taka says, "I-"

"Hope I'm not interrupting the conversation," a smooth voice calls out behind them, and oh my god it's Asano. 

Karma has known Nakamura long enough to be able to tell that she is mentally face-palming.

"N-not at all, s-sir," Taka says, and oh, so this Asano must be higher up that him in the company hierarchy. 

"Mr Taka, glad you could come this evening," Asano nods at him. Taka opens his mouth to no doubt attempt another blunder of a reply, but Asano ignores him to turn to Rio. Hah.

"Miss Nakamura," Asano says. "Your report on Miyazaki crossed my desk a few days ago. I have to say I'm impressed with your insight. I think HR will be contacting you soon about further opportunities."

Rio's eyes sparkle. "Are you serious?! Holy shit, I won't let you down, sir!" 

Finally Asano turns to Karma and oh my god he's pretty. Nakamura steps on his foot.

"You must be Miss Nakamura's date. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Karma nods dumbly. "Um. Yeah. Same."

Rio steps on his foot again. 

Just as quickly as he appeared, Asano get whisked away into the monetary conversations of high society. Taka turns tail and runs to nurse his pride from being rebuffed by his superior, and Rio drags Karma to a corner to scold him about being gay.

"Can you blame me?" Karma says.

"I don't understand," Rio shakes her head. "Everyone. It's everyone." 

"Of course you don't understand. You like girls." 

"I don't understand," she repeats. "You're lucky Taka was too busy cowering in fear to notice how stupid you look." 

"Rio, he's hot."

Rio sighs longsufferingly. "You have no chance with him."

Karma sighs with her. "How is it that the one day I have to commit to being straight is the one day I meet my soulmate?"

"You're being dramatic," she gripes at him, "there is no way-"

"Nakamura?"  

Rio shrieks, fumbles with her plate, and drops it. Karma snatches it out of thin air. 

The new voice belongs to a pretty girl with dark hair and light eyes, and a grin grows on Karma's face. He recognizes this girl alright, from all the pictures Rio shows of her when she's drunk and sobbing about her crush at 3am. 

"Oh no," Rio breathes. 

"Oh boy," Karma agrees.

"Um, I just came over to say hi," Miss Kanzaki says. 

Rio is struck dumb. How the tables have turned. 

"It's nice to meet you," Karma says graciously. "I'm Nakamura's…" He looks left, right, and does not see Taka anywhere. "Friend."

Rio does not step on his foot this time.

"Friend?" Kanzaki looks confused. She's adorable. "Taka was going around saying…"

"Ah, between you and me?" Karma leans forward. "I'm just here to scare him off."

Rio seems to get her bearings back. "Karma!" She scolds, then gets a glimpse of Kanzaki's face, and turns pink. 

Karma snickers. "Since my job is done for the night, I'll hand my little lady off to you, how about that?" 

"Don't pass me around like a party favor!" Rio says, but she makes no attempt to resist. In fact, she seems all too eager to get rid of Karma, and immediately spins Kanzaki around. A wise choice because Karma has a wealth of embarrassing stories about her.

"-so you didn't come with a date?" Karma hears Rio say.

Okay. What does he do now.

Karma pulls out his phone to text Nagisa. "I'm bored."

The text comes in fast. "Aren't you at the party?"

"Yeah, but Rio's girlfriend came, so I let them do their own thing." 

Nagisa is typing. "Lmao."

"Ha ha," Karma types back. "Do you think I can get away with hitting on her boss?"

"She'll kill you." Ah, Nagisa. Ever the voice of reason. "Besides, aren't you supposed to pretend to be in a committed relationship with her? Isn't her boss the one harassing her?"

Oh, right. "No, different boss. Bad Boss is a sleazy old man. Good Boss is pretty cute and offered her a promotion."

"That's very sketchy of you."

"Thanks."

--

I almost made Karushuu Zoom

College years, established relationship, feat. Gakushuu's MIT roommates

"Of course he's making my life hard," Gakushuu is ranting. "That's the only thing he ever does!"

Do not be fooled by Gakushuu's arid tone or the scowl he's wearing on his face. He always sounds and looks like that, so it's nothing too much out of the ordinary. When speaking about his boyfriend of eleven months and three weeks, Gakushuu's eyes light up in a way it does not do for anyone else. He doesn't take instruction from anyone else, but he follows Karma around on his whims and fancies. He doesn't like physical contact but when Karma's nearby, he reaches out of his own accord. On a good day, one might even see him smile. 

Their one year anniversary is coming up and they're on opposite ends of the world.

"Flying to meet each other seems a little excessive," Gakushuu thinks aloud, as he clicks through the hiked up prices of last minute flight tickets.

"I thought you and your boyfriend agreed to just Zoom through?" Gakushuu's roommate says.

"I know," Gakushuu sighs. "But…"

Chris waits a beat, then two, then decides that Gakushuu's too much of a "tsundere" (Emi used that word to describe Gakushuu, which made the boy blush and stutter, so the moniker stuck) to speak his mind.

"You miss him," Chris supplies.

Gakushuu sulks. 

"Well I'm sure you can make even an online call super extra special," Chris says. 

"Yeah…" Gakushuu drums his fingers against a table, deep in thought.

"But why are you all here," Karma says, as he rearranges his pillows and blankets and laptop into a nest. His mug of coffee is balanced on top of his textbooks on his bedside table.

"We want to say hi to Asano too, duh," Nakamura says.

"It's my anniversary and my boyfriend," Karma says indignantly. 

"We'll be out of your hair soon," Kayano says, munching on a donut she stole out of Karma's fridge. 

"Uh huh," Karma says, narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry Karma," Nagisa says, making himself comfortable in the beanbag chair. "I tried to stop them."

"I'm sure you tried very hard indeed," Karma says.

--

Karma is a Let’s Play Youtuber

“Do you have any holiday plans?” Karma reads aloud. “Oh, not really, no. It’s just going to be a quiet holiday here.” 

Ping!

“Is it weird to have both you and your boyfriend’s birthdays on… oh, hah, yeah! For those of you who don’t know, my birthday falls on Christmas and my boyfriend’s birthday falls on New Years. It’s pretty funny. It’s not really… weird, I guess? It can be inconvenient sometimes, and people get you one gift instead of two. But if we do go on holiday, we can celebrate both our days at once, which is pretty nice.”

"What I am getting him for his birthday? I'm not going to spoil the surprise!"

"Who is my boyfriend? Yeah, nice try, I'm not telling."

"Am I his sugar daddy- hah! Yeah, I am! Okay, he'll kill me if he watches this. No, he actually earns more than me. Yep."

"How long have we been together? We got together second year of college. We knew each other before then, though-" 

"-Oh, yeah, this is the latest version of the game. It hasn't hit the Japanese market yet, it's coming in next year…"

"Saw your stream today," Gakushuu says. 

"Oh? Were you watching Lets Plays at work?" Karma teases. "Big bad scary CEO man on Twitch during office hours."

Gakushuu rolls his eyes. "Watched you fumble over that Spire puzzle over lunch."

"Hahaha, shut up. Like you could have done better."

"You know I would," Gakushuu says, giving Karma an affectionate pat on the head."By the  way, father says he's trying to bake a cake for your birthday again."

"Oh no," Karma says.

He likes that Gakuhou is trying, he really is. He appreciates being a part of their… already weirdly dysfunctional family. 

But like father like son, Gakuhou is incredibly stubborn. Stubborn enough to never admit that baking is not one of his laundry list of skills.

"Mhm," Gakushuu says, a longsuffering look on his face. He probably tried to talk Gakuhou out of it. He probably failed.

Onscreen, a tiny avatar is dealing extreme violence. On the tiny livescreen split screen, Karma is boredly tapping away and reading off questions from his chat.

"...Is Karma my real name? Yes."

"How can my boyfriend stand to be around someone named Karma? Well surprise! He doesn't have a choice because he has an even stupider name than me- ow! He just threw a pillow at me."

"Oh, yeah, he's on the couch. Babe, say hi."

There's a pause. On Karma's screen, the microphone shifts out of frame.

And then a different voice, smooth and soft and baritone, curls into the microphone. "Hello."

"Hello," Karma snickers. "So formal."

A pillow appears in frame. Karma ducks, and 

his character stumbles for a moment.

"Stop distracting m- hey, why don't you narrate for me?"

Karma's boyfriend says, "what do you want me to narrate?"

"Oh, an AMA. Everybody, shoot your question now to the beau."

"This one says I could be an ASMR streamer."

"Haha yeah, I fall asleep everytime he talks. Ow! Pillow!"

(Boyfriend) "What's my name? It's Work."

(Karma) "HAHAHAHA HOLY SHIT I'm telling your dad you said that!"

(Boyfriend) "Tell him what? He's the one who named me Work."

(Karma) "I'm in tears. The best part is that that's true."

(Boyfriend) "Next question. What do I like about Karma?"

(Karma) "Oh boy."

(Boyfriend) "I like that he's stupid."

(Karma) "Cold."

(Boyfriend) "Well, he can be very cute at times.”

(Karma) “Aww, you find me cute, babe?”

(Boyfriend) “Only sometimes. What do I do for a living? Am I… am I your sugar daddy? Karma, what have you been telling them about me?”

(Karma) “Haha, oops?”

(Boyfriend) “I… I work in sales. And no, I am not Karma’s… that. He has to earn his keep if he wants to stay in this house.”

(Karma) “I told all of you that he was a hardass.”

--

This was inspired by Accidental Baby Acquisition

"I told you five times already today, Ren," Gakushuu says patiently, fingers gripping the straps of his bag so hard that his knuckles are turning white. "I need to go back home to help with the baby."

"Gakushuu…" Ren says, less patiently. "I don't… understand you."

"Which part do you not understand?" Gakushuu says, even less patiently. "My father and I ran afoul of a witch who conjured a toddler version of me and now I have to make sure my father doesn't accidently kill him."

"Every part of that."

Gakushuu's phone buzzes, three times in quick succession.

Gakushuu's fingers twitch. 

Ren sighs. "Listen, if you don't want to hang out with me after school, you can just say it. I won't be offended."

Gakushuu opens his mouth, just as his phone buzzes again. He winces. "I'll see you."

"See you tomorrow," Ren says, already turning to leave. He waves absently, already pulling out his own phone.

Shuu slams straight into his legs the moment Gakushuu opens the door.

Gakushuu gently extricates the child's nails from where they're digging into his pants. "Hi, Shuu!" He says, in that bright way that you're supposed to speak to toddlers with.

"Hi," Shuu mumbles, in that mild subdued way that those sort of quiet toddlers speak back to you with.

"Follow me to our room and we can put my school stuff down," Gakushuu offers, and Shuu grips onto his hand tightly. Gakushuu walks through the sitting room - blocks on the floor, flash cards on the coffee table, past the kitchen - an unwashed glass on the island, a step stool by the sink, up the stairs and two doors down to his room.

Shuu clambers onto the bed.

"Where's father?" Gakushuu asks, setting his belongings down. He rifles through his bag to put his stationery back in place.

"Office." Gakushuu watches Shuu look over his toys, carefully deliberating over his choices, before gingerly plucking a soft rabbit by its ear and hugging it onto its lap.

"Have you eaten today?"

"Mhm."

"What did you have?"

Shuu's face scrunches up, Gakushuu snickers a little. Shuu says, "porridge, yuck," and sticks a tongue out.

Gakushuu laughs. "Porridge is good for you." He plugs in his phone to charge (seeing an unread message from Ren.) "Let's go bother father."

"Mhm," Shuu says. 

Gakushuh picks him up and bounces him on his hip. "How was your day today?"

"Dad made me do homework." He pouts. "It sucked."

Gakushuu doesn't bother knocking on his father's study - the door is open, anyways, likely so that Shuu can enter easy. 

If he thought the house was more of a mess than it usually was, he couldn't be prepared for the absolute mess of papers spilling out into the hallway.

Gakushuu sighs. 

He wades through the ankle deep sea of books. The source of it all is, of course, Gakuhou, who seemed to have gone through a whole ocean on research material and made no progress at all.

"Wow," Gakushuu says.

Gakuhou snaps up from his book and glares at him accusingly, as if Gakushuu had the audacity to go to school while he had to stay home and watch a kid. "I don't suppose you made any conclusions about this predicament."

Shuu's been with them for two days and Gakuhou looks like he’s not slept for a year. He truly is slipping on his parental abilities.

"Have you tried yahoo answers?" Gakushuu offers.

Gakuhou says, "get out of my office."

--

The unfinished next chapter to the fic where the adults are kids and kids are adults

Which came first: the chicken or the egg?

"Have you ever seen a pregnant bird?" 

"No," Koro says.

Akabane-sensei slams his hands on the table. "That's because it doesn't exist!"

"What does this have to do with math?!" Gakuhou blurts.

"The reason I'm standing here is because I scored better than your father in a math test when we were 15," Akabane-sensei says, pointing a finger at him. "And I will never let him forget it."

Irina raises a hand. "What does that have to do with pregnant birds?" 

Takaoka raises his hand. "Where's Shiota-sensei!?" 

"Karma!" Shiota-sensei opens the door, looking exasperated. "Stop terrorizing my class. I don't need a substitute for the five minutes I was at the washroom."

"And leave these tiny kids unattended?" Akabane-sensei gasps theatrically. "Kids, what's one plus one?"

"Three," Irina says, grinning. Next to her, Gakuhou, slams his head on his desk.

"That," Akabane-sensei starts, then pauses. "Huh. I guess-"

"Get out!" Shiota-sensei says. 

Koro leans over to Tadaomi, confusion visible on his face. "Why is one plus one three?" 

"I'll tell you later," Tadaomi reassures him.

"I'm sorry about Kar- ah, Akabane-sensei," Shiota-sensei says, grabbing the duster to erase the drawing of a smiley on the board. "You'll see him in your upper years, and I say good luck to that." 

Gakuhou's hand shoots up, although he speaks before Shiota-sensei calls on him. "Did he really beat my dad in math?!" He demands.

"I…" Shiota-sensei blinks. "We're digressing. Let's go back to the lesson. Has anyone completed the problem?"

Gakuhou pouts, as much as Gakuhou could pout anyways, but he turns back to tackling his worksheet with renewed vigor. After class, Gakuhou doesn't wait for them, instead dashing out of the classroom.

"He's going to ask Akabane-sensei about beating his dad in math," Koro says, who had somehow gained the affinity to read Gakuhou with a surprising accuracy. "Do you think assassins need math?"

"Likely," Aguri says, joining them from her corner of the classroom. "What if they want to design weird traps or ways to kill people? They'll need math for that."

"That can be someone else's job," Irina says. "Like the people in the back. If I'm an assassin, I'll just get someone to do the math for me! I'll be out on the field shooting people."

"Pow! Pow!” Aguri says.

Chapter Text

yes Neverland as in Peter Pan

If i was better at writing this there would be symbolism but as it stands there are none

Karma's the first one of them to not touch the ground. 

Or it's more accurate to say that he does. Two weeks into the school year Karma jumps off a cliff, frantic and hopeless and desperate, and Koro-sensei does not catch him. 

He tried to - not that he didn't try, but Koro-sensei is too slow and Karma falls too fast and he hits the ground at the bottom of the hill, and nobody else is there to see it. 

"So Koro-sensei catches him by forming a net underneath him with his tentacles, but by then the damage has been done. There's a hole in the dirt, cracked branches of trees and bushes he crashed through. Nobody sees any of that, because when Karma wakes up he's lying on his back on the net and staring up at the sky. Maybe things would have been different, if he chose to look down that day. But he looked up, towards the sky, towards that little hope he had in his heart back then, and maybe something in him wanted to live on, so he stood up and walked away and never looked back."

It's been a year. The grass has grown over the disturbance on the forest floor, leaves have sprung over the low hanging branches on the trees, and it's like nothing had ever happened here, and nobody else knows. 

"But Koro-sensei did know, is the thing. He saw Karma hit the ground."

It was something about the antimatter, but nobody understood the antimatter well enough to begin to explain it. The antimatter bound the bodies and souls of the children to Koro-sensei. When they died, Koro-sensei was all that held them here - maybe it explained why they grew so attached to him so quickly.

Whether Koro-sensei did so to fulfil his end of the contract, for some altruistic purpose, or a different justification entirely, nobody knows. He’d never divulged it to anyone, and now he was gone.

So at the very end of it all the contract drawn - the primary clause for no harm to come to the children - dissolves into lights in the warm summer air. Koro-sensei never lays a tentacle on them; 3-E die anyways, one by one. It's cold; case closed, and Tadaomi surrenders his badge.

“I knew,” he says, to a panel of people who don’t know what to ask him. “When I found out, it was too late. I was in an altercation with the assassin Reaper. I had my then-colleague there with me, Jelavic, and Reaper shot her clean through the skull. I apprehended Reaper but when I went to retrieve her body... she was alive again. I… didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know that she was dead. She’d simply thought she’d hit her head, it was still bleeding, but she didn’t behave as if anything was out of the ordinary. I watched her die, I wasn’t going to get her - she was trapped under a beam then. At best , had the bullet not gone straight through her brain, she would be unconscious, bleeding out. I was going to put a second bullet there because I believed I was dealing with something of the supernatural sort, and the octopus stopped me.”