Walpurgis Night [ An Assassination Classroom fanfiction ]

Humid Time

" What're your opinions on the new transfer student, Shiro ? "

" Ritsu is pretty cute, isn't she ? And she can do so many things too, it's really amazing ! "

" You have to admit the way Korosensei's head swelled is quite surprising too, haha ~ "

" Agreed ! I never thought anything could actually become that big ! "

" And to think his hair would become a mushroom that's actually edible ... I'm at a loss for words. "

The bursts of laughter that ran out from the group was like a single ray of warmth amidst the bleak and gloomy surroundings and the constant pattering of rain. 

You could tell there was a single question on everybody's mind despite how the words never quite escaped their lips, but despite their laughter and smiles, the question remained. 

' Why hadn't you come to school ? '

Once the school trip had ended and the train pulled into the station we had first left from, a single black limousine had been waiting, and the four suited men ( excluding the chauffeur ) who stood with their hands clasped behind their backs had immediately separated me from the others before escorting myself to the car. 

Following that, I hadn't attended school for about a week and spent those days at home instead ... if such a place could even be called home at all. 

The Board Chairman had sent his regards to the principal of the school which had initiated the trouble, his voice honey sweet throughout the whole interaction as he skilfully weaved subtle threats. It was a one-sided game of chess from the very start, in which the odds were all tilted in a certain someone's favour, leaving the other with no possibility of winning. 

Either way, the conversation had ended with the quiet extraction of a substantial amount of money as compensation, and as the Board Chairman put down the phone still wearing the same rigid smile, he crossed the distance between us before striking me across the cheek. 

" Stand up. " 

He would command, and I would do so, only to have him strike again, this time, a different place. 

This cycle would repeat and repeat until I could stand no longer, and then he would force me to, and even during the times when my vision faded till I was on the brink of collapsing, I would stand until I could do so no more. 

" You were injured because you were weak, and the only way to become stronger is to let new and stronger cells grow in place of those weak ones you lost, during this period of recovery. Resting at this crucial period only makes you weaker. "

Even at home, the only times I properly rested were the times when I was sleeping, which was kept strictly to six hours a day. Any more, even a single second, would mean forgoing breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, or all three meals, whatever his mood. 

He would strike when you were least expecting it -- walking down the corridors, studying at your desk, walking down the steps, wearing your shoes. And despite the fact his ' opponent ' was an injured person, he wasn't any less cruel in his attacks, and one could even say he had became more harsh and strict instead. 

" Learn to stand and run no matter the circumstances. "

I could no longer count the number of times I had been thrown against the ground, losing consciousness for a split second before I was jolted awake by the sudden frigidness of the water he would splash on me, and then I'd fall into the darkness again. 

I never knew what happened during those periods of time I was unconscious, for I would find myself in bed when I awoke. But sometimes, I'd remember hearing a voice murmur, so softly it was no louder than the slightest breeze, a voice which sounded as though tears were about to spill.