Koro leaned into the leather of the beige couch of his living room. The entirety of the place found itself drenched in a warm orangish color through the floor-to-ceiling window, giving the meeting a much softer and inoffensive vibe than intended. The sugary fragrance of hot coca and melted marshmallows wafted through the room with ease, permeating it with its aroma and contrasting with the dangerousness of the said white-haired male in front of it.
Koro's gloveless fingers carelessly traced the rim of his black mug, a pensive look on his face as his other hand held up some documents from the Ministry of Defense. It was a comprehensive recap of 3-E's situation with the students, their name, age, seat number, and abilities neatly recorded. He noted that Karma was already part of the class but that Ritsu and, per extension, Itona as well had yet to join them.
"As we explained in the earliest briefings, although we hope to eliminate the target in the briefest delay and most efficient ways, it is also our responsibility to ensure the students' well-being and the follow up of their education," the government official, a woman of average stature with short black hair, explained as she pushed the rim of her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Currently, class 3-E is being taught by one of our best field agents in the art of hand to hand combat and weaponry," she said before handing him another stack.
Koro mutely received it. Here was a compilation of the teaching staff. He noted that Irina was part of it.
"As a field agent, Sir Karasuma will be your first contact to the government. Please do report to him if you shall need any assistance or information," she politely explained, her voice clear and steady. "The Target, dubbed Koro-sensei by the students, is the acting homeroom teacher. It is in charge of most lessons and study material," she added.
Koro noted how she referred to his former self as "it," further dehumanizing the Damocles sword and allowing for a more clinical approach to the matter. After all, it was always easier to talk about killing an animal or shattering an object rather than murdering a fellow human.
Not that it mattered to Koro, considering his line of job.
"On Monday, tomorrow, another assassin will be sent to 3-E in addition to yourself," she continued, unperturbed by his silence. Koro turned the page of his files, allowing the picture of a blond woman to appear. "Irina Jelavic, she is part of an assassination organization and was selected by the higher-ups to ensure the assassination of the target. She will pose as the English teacher," she explained, not giving too many details on the blond's assets and assassination abilities.
Koro read through her file, finding only a little information. It wasn't surprising as assassins usually didn't flaunt the totality of their skills, but it remained disappointing. He'd have to ask one of his people for a more detailed resume of the woman— he'd also look up information on his future students and their guardians while he was at it. He flipped through the last pages, information on Koro-sensei, the Target, entering his view and closed the stack before setting it on the granite low-table.
"Do you have any questions, Sir?"
Koro mused over the matter. He took a second or so to think about everything before shaking his head, an amiable smile plastered on his lips. "No, apart from my requirements for my registration, there's nothing I'd like to go back on," he reminded with a tilt of his head, voice shrouded with amusement yet undeniably threatening.
The woman and her colleague shivered. She gave the whitehead a bow from her seat. "Of course, everything was done as per your requirements," she confirmed. "It is our honor to have someone as qualified as yourself by our side in this difficult time," she politely added.
Koro ignored the boot-licking. He gave a nod.
"Then, if there is nothing else, Sir, we will take out leaves," the woman declared, standing up as she finished her now lukewarm coffee.
Koro hummed dismissively. Eyes strained on the documents given to him as he carelessly waved his hand. He heard the sound of footsteps and the front door opening before closing a few seconds later, effectively leaving Koro alone to his musings. Contrary to his expectations and much to his relief, Karasuma wasn't the one to brief him. It wasn't such a surprise when one thought about it, Karasuma although highly regarded, wasn't that important within the hierarchy, unlike Koro, who posed as Vongola's direct representative while also being one of the important members of the said organization.
The woman who just departed was the head assistant of Japan's Minister of Defense, which explained her access to such classified information and her ability to meet up with himself. On the other hand, the man was her bodyguard, a justified addition when one thought of all the information the woman controlled.
"Soooo, what did they say?" Byakuran drawled as he comfortably waltzed into the living room, another mug of freshly made and highly sugary hot cocoa in hand. He brought the beverage to his lips, not caring for how hot it was, and took a careless sip, lips plucking a miniature marshmallow that floated near his mouth.
"Nothing too interesting," Koro hummed in return, skimming through the documents his hands as he gestured to the others on the granite low-table.
Byakuran picked one of the papers, knowing that he'd need to read through them at some point, and lightly pursed his lips.
"Fu~ I'll send an order for a more comprehensive analysis of the students and staff through our channels," Koro said as he stretched his back and set the files on the table. He picked his hot chocolate, finished it in one mouthful, and stood up from his comfortable seat. He licked his upper lip off the sugary beverage and gently ruffled his brother's white locks. "Don't bother reading through these. They are incomplete," he said as he made his way to the kitchen.
The kitchen was an open kitchen, its counter giving a direct view and access to the living room. Koro put his used mug in the dishwasher and walked around the counter to pick his professional phone. A few dials later, one of his subordinates picked up.
Byakuran leaned into the leather of the couch. He basked in the soft warmth of the setting sun; his eyes half opened as he nursed the mug in his hands.
He felt a bit— well, very bored.
Living with Yucca was fun, of course, but with the work that followed his brother, there wasn't much they could do together. What's more, starting next week, the mission would begin for real, D-Day was closing up on them, and it made Byakuran wish that the Target would just drop dead from food poisoning or something.
Not that it'd happen, he had checked with his other self's memories— what he could still see, and when the yellow thing existed and the moon burst, the thing never died from food poisoning.
Disappointing really.
Byakuran brought the mug to his lips, inhaling the comforting fragrance of his drink before taking a sip. His knees pressed against his chest, his cup atop them. He leaned his head back to have it stare at the ceiling before his eyes rolled to look behind him and at his brother's figure.
Although he came to terms with the fact that Yucca wasn't the Yucca he knew long ago, it didn't change too much to Byakuran. Yucca would be dead if not for the soul that now occupied the body. He just disliked how interested Mukuro— this prick, was in Yucca now that they shared some similarities or whatever.
Byakuran owlishly blinked his purple eyes at his brother's back, a grin painting his face the moment the older looked his way, a soft smile gracing the man's lips, before he sat properly to drink some more of his drink. Byakuran picked his phone up, fingers scrolling through to look at his friends' messages before he turned it off— still bored out of his mind.
Tomorrow would be his almost first day of school, and he didn't know if he had to feel excited about it. He just hoped that it would bring some animation to his current life. Otherwise, he couldn't promise not slipping to Namimori to visit Tsunayoshi and co.
There was never one dull moment with these people, and going to Namimori would also mean seeing Shoichi, two birds with one stone. Genius move.
"Nyurufufufu, are you bored?"
Yucca's voice and the typical chuckle that usually came with it broke Byakuran out of his semi-daze. He blinked.
"I mean, yes," he agreed, a pout on his lips as he puffed his cheeks out.
Koro laughed (the audacity!) and ruffled his white locks in mild amusement. "Don't worry, school shouldn't be too boring," he comforted, a Cheshire grin dancing on his lips.
Byakuran grimaced, obviously not believing the older male. There was a reason why he homeschooled himself once he got control over all of the planes, and there indeed was a reason why Bluebell always complained about that place.
"Nyurufufu~ come on, you might even make some friends!" Koro cheered.
"I don't need any more friends, especially idiotic ones," Byakuran defended in a huff.
"I don't know if Kikyo and the others would be offended, but I think they'd probably cry from joy knowing that you only need them," Koro teased as he referred to the Six Funeral Wreaths or what remained of them.
"Kikyo wouldn't cry."
"Fufu, you'd be surprised."
Byakuran rolled his eyes. He pulled his tongue at his brother before turning away and taking his phone out to scroll social media— an implicit way of saying: "this conversation is over, I do not wish to lose any more brain cells over this."
Koro chuckled. He stood up from the sofa and walked away to the bathroom. "I'm going to go and dye my hair," he said as he exited the living room, Byakuran dismissively waving at him in the process.
::
Blond hair perfectly styled with a layer of wax to keep them in place, a pair of simple rectangular black glasses perched atop his nose to frame his shimmering green eyes, and an amiable and comforting smile painting his lips as he incarnated the epitome of a welcoming teacher.
That's the impression he was aiming for, at least.
It was who Sorrel Aarden was supposed to be.
And currently, it was his identity.
He adjusted the knot of his royal blue tie, a gift from Squalo, and appreciated the robustness of the fabric under his fingertips. The material felt soft, yet Koro didn't doubt that it'd make for a perfect rope and weapon; Squalo wasn't the type to offer accessories as a gift, the fact that it was a tie already meant that Lussuria helped him pick it out. He brushed over the wool-like sweater that covered his white dress-shirt and hid part of his tie before picking up the striped black blazer of the side and pulling it over his shoulders. His gloveless hands rolled the cuff of his dress-shirt to cover the cuffs of his blazer that stopped right under his elbow, showing off his forearms and the small scars that littered them.
Koro walked away from his mirror to the connected bathroom. He picked a tube of cream, foundation, and some powder and began to mask the scars with practiced ease. In a few minutes, he was done, leaving his forearms free of faults and blemishless.
Walking out of his bathroom and bedroom, he made his way to the living room. "Ran, we're going to go in a few minutes," he called out as he made himself a fresh cup of espresso with the coffee machine.
"Yeah," was his brother's very enthusiastic answer.
Koro chuckled. He opened his suitcase that rested on the kitchen counter, giving him a view of the living room before checking its content one last time. Documents regarding Byakuran's admission, as well as the mission and identification papers, were neatly organized. Of course, strapped to the suitcase in a well-hidden double bottom were daggers and weaponry suitable to arm the Target.
Satisfied, he closed his suitcase and picked his espresso, drinking it in a few seconds and uncaring of its temperature.
"Okay, I'm ready," Byakuran drawled as he entered the living room, unsurprisingly carrying a bag of marshmallows. He sported the Kunugigaoka regular uniform. Grey dress-pants and blazer with a white dress-shirt underneath. Around his neck was a not-so-well-tied black tie, and in his hand, his school bag.
Koro chuckled. Setting the empty espresso cup in the sink, he walked around the counter to tie Byakuran's tie properly. "First impressions, Ran-chan~" he reminded in a sing-song tone.
Byakuran rolled his eyes.
It was Monday, 7:30 am, he did not care for first impressions.
"Whoah, My Ran-chan is sooo handsome," the older cooed, taking his personal phone and shamelessly snapping pictures of the younger boy. Byakuran felt annoyed. "Kikyo is gonna love them, I'm sure," he squealed. "I should ask Luss to print them out for me!" he added happily.
Lussuria knew a famous print shop in Italy. He was sure to get him both quality and a reasonable price if asked.
"Okay, okay, let's go, we're gonna be late," Byakuran dismissed, his cheeks progressively turning a pink color as he waved his hand at his brother— trying and failing to hinder his photoshoot.
Σ(ノ°▽°)ノ
Next chapter, Kunugigaoka Junior High!