•The Assassin's Teacher• ((Saiki K. x Assassination Classroom Crossover))

Weekly Training (Day 6)

Because at the end of the day,

all that really matters:

is a good brew of coffee.

With Saiki (Limited)

Back at it, the next day, Saiki didn't really know what to expect that fine fine evening.

His grandma was definitely crazy, or a genius, or both.

Saiki reached for his glasses, but then pulled away. He didn't need the trademarked glasses he owned, he was fine without them.

Saiki entered late last night back at the hotel, as he was a little drowsy, it didn't stop at the swim test across the East China Sea and coffee afterward, it was more training until the clock hit, five in the afternoon and Saiki was in a desert pantsed by someone and on the brink of probably crying of his tiredness.

But Saiki didn't stop himself from seeing that front desk guy in his unprofessional state that he was now starting to have the will power to clean up.

"Whoo, and he's back again!" he had hollered as Saiki stepped in sweaty and tired, "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!" the man at the front desk continued to shout in the dusty rat-infested lobbied room.

"You know what?" the man asked as Saiki just raised an eyebrow, he didn't really 'wanna know what' the man wanted to say, but yet again he did, his thoughts were clearly buzzed from some store-bought hard lemonade. "I will--I am-- going to do better," he stood up pridefully on the counter that was going to break any moment.

"I am going to do better!" he repeated louder, Saiki wasn't sure if it was his brain or the booze talking, not like there was going to be much of a difference anyway. "I will leave this dump!" the man shouted, "I will set myself a life!" he pointed out to Saiki as if he was choosing out a lucky contestant at a concert.

He was probably expecting applause, as the drunken man put a hand to his hear and gave Saiki a side glace with a large open-mouth grin. Saiki didn't want to seem rude, as he clapped a few times, slowly and awkwardly.

"WHOOOO!" He yelled into the air and ripped his shirt off with it all as if it were the hairy-- the cherry on top. His grease-stained liquor-stained not-white white shirt.

Saiki had more momentous occasions than what happened that night, walking out of the nice room he made himself and into the dirty hallway of the motel, Saiki didn't seem to spot the man-at-the-front-desk, but instead of him being hungover with feet propped up, the man-at-the-front desk was cleaning.

'Holy crap, I didn't expect him to actually quit cold turkey' Saiki peaked over the corner to see the man scrubbing the floors, on his hands and knees, in the hallway across from Saiki's room. Saiki for once felt proud of himself for helping the man, he wasn't sure if it was actually from him, or some outsider, but Saiki still felt happy with the man and his choices.

Saiki turned away, he was now going to have to deal with his 'Americano' Grandmother.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Getting to the retirement home, was surprisingly a little more difficult because of sudden foot traffic that went around.

Saiki was going to be late if he didn't hurry and doesn't really want to deal with Kiyo's crap any longer than what he needs to.