OUTSiDER (Assassination Classroom Fanfic)

2. Portent

The last of his coffee was gulped down quickly-- leaving the cup on his desk, he passed the chairman at the door, bidding a polite goodbye as he apologized once again for the late stay on school grounds.

He made no move to question why the principal would be in school at this hour-- it was difficult to bring up, and hell, Naomasa wasn't interested either. He wouldn't wanna trigger some weird event flag by prying too far in. 

One golden rule of the animeverse-- you should never meet up with the main antagonist by coincidence, especially those breed of antagonists that turn into a good guy halfway through. Those guys are teeming with death flags, so I infer from the wise words of one not-historical Okita something.

Naomasa left the school grounds-- looking back once to notice the Board Chairman seeing him off from the chairman's office window. Their eyes meeting, he waved. Nao waved back.

ー

"Sorry, Sakurai-san, yeah," Nao mumbled into his phone, the lady on the other end voicing herself snappy and angered, "I missed my appointment, I know-- I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I was... yes, I know it's important, but--"

His home-- the Sakurai Florist's-- was about a ten-minute's walk from the school. 

Still, it was the frightful hour of the ox. 

Naomasa was in no way scared of the dark or anything-- nor was he afraid of getting robbed-- he may be beansprout-armed, but he could pack a mean punch if he wanted to!

However vague, he held memories of his previous lifetime-- the life of a girl that lived through to college, yet died on one dark and stormy night-- it made him cautious of his surroundings in such a quiet hour. 

"No shit!"

The loud voice gave Naomasa a horrible fright, and the teacher flinched away as laughter erupted in the very same direction-- an alley. 

"Duude, there's no way we'd ever."

"Just for today, y'know?"

In pure curiosity-- these voice sounded like teenagers, after all; as a teacher, he couldn't just ignore them. 

He took an untimely turn into the alley, tripped over his feet, and yelped disgracefully as he spilled his belongings over the ground in clumsiness.

"Oh, fuck."

There was silence. Looking up, he found a small gathering of students under a lonely street light. Some of them held cigarettes, others were slouched about in sloppy dressing. They didn't wear their uniforms, but as a teacher of many classes, Naomasa knew exactly who they were.

"You guys are first years," he muttered with a curse under his tongue. Picking himself up, trying to forget his inelegant stumble, he dusted himself.

The students were similar to the irritable bunch from the morning-- bold, courageous, rebellious-- and still not understanding the hierarchy system of this elite academy.

Potential Future 3-E students, Naomasa defined them, like Terasaka, people who don't understand the concept of this school yet.

They tutted, "it's Kuma-sensei," one blond boy raised a sarcastic tone, "fuck off, teacher, don't you know you ought to turn your eyes away in situations like these?"

Naomasa wanted to cringe-- here it was, and it made no goddamn sense.

He sighed, picking up his bookbag and stepping closer to the four teenagers, "you made it into Kunugigaoka, and you waste your opportunity like this? You'll end up in the E class, y'know."