The school field trip came to a quiet and bittersweet end. The class did not manage to assassinate Korosensei (unfortunately), but somehow Hajime gained something in return. If he had to put it into words, the invisible line that he kept between him and his classmates had been slightly blurred, as if someone had crossed along the chalk and created a smudge on the ground. The explanation he had given on their last night in the boys' common room had relieved Hajime of a burden that weighed on his shoulders. He was almost weightless without it. It was the first time Hajime felt this exposed to others and while it was uncomfortable, it was not entirely unwelcome.
Hajime sighed, deep and thoughtful, drawing the attention of his younger sister that followed behind him. He went to pick up his sister from the Fuwa household after returning back to the school. Miho looked utterly relieved to see him at the front door along with Fuwa Yuzuki. Understandably, Miho had been growing anxious while stuck in an unfamiliar household. The Fuwa family had sent the two off with warm smiles and a plethora of comics at hand from the purple haired siblings.
Miho swung the plastic bag containing shoujo-related comics and glanced at her sibling. "Did the field trip not go well?" The sun was setting in the distance, partially hidden behind the tall buildings. It painted the skies in hazy hues of purple and orange. An almost dreamy backdrop to their walk home.
"Kind of," Hajime responded, looking up at the clouds. "Something really annoying happened, but it was a nice trip overall." He had half the mind to look into the crew that ruined their itinerary, but Korosensei had already dealt with it. The last thing Hajime wanted was to draw the octopus' attention.
"Hmph." Miho pouted. "Well, while you old seniors were out in Kyoto doing whatever. I happened to be growing my comic collection." The female raised the bag in her hands and shook it, animated sparkles glimmering in her eyes. "Nao-chan said she'd give them to me! Free-of-charge~" The plastic bag was almost bulging from the amount of paperback comics inside it. The corners of the books protruded from the bag in sharp spikes that threatened to tear.
Hajime side-eyed his sister, laughing through his nose. "Are you proud to be a cheapskate?"
The two arrived at the Takano residence, Hajime lifting his leg in time to dodge a half-hearted kick from his younger sister while he opened the gate. The brown haired male hiked up his bag over his shoulder, smiling in amusement at the enraged complaints being thrown at him. All the lights in the house were off, even the ones in Miho's bedroom that were on twenty-four seven. Hajime pressed his foot against the front door while he tried to insert the keys in, only to find the door being pushed open on its own accord.
The small smile slipped right off of his face.
Hajime grabbed the handle and twisted it, growing tense as the mechanism remained loose. He distinctly remembered locking both the front door and the gate before they left. There was no news about his parents returning earlier than planned. Unease crawled up his back, slithering hauntingly over his skin and wrapping around his neck in a threatening hold. It was suffocating. Hajime turned around to face his sister. The expression on his face had her lingering petulance dropping in exchange for alarm.
"Nii-san?"
"Did you come home while I was gone?" Hajime questioned, tone hard. He dropped his hand from the doorknob and began to zip open his bag. The male reached his hand inside and began searching for something while dark reddish-brown eyes scanned the front porch and the divider connected to the gate of the house. The front gate had been locked and untampered. Hajime briefly eyed the security camera that viewed the entrance, narrowing his eyes on the blinking red light. He couldn't be certain if the camera caught it. It would be hard to receive the footage without drawing his parents' attention. If they were still inside though...
Miho cautiously shook her head. "You told me not to. Is something wrong–"
"Stay here. Be ready to call the police." Hajime pulled out his pellet gun, the one specifically used for Korosensei and their assassination. Miho went silent in surprise, her own mahogany colored eyes widening at the sight of the handgun. Hajime turned and raised an eyebrow at her. Miho met his serious gaze and reluctantly nodded, stepping back down the steps and clutching at her cellphone.
At her acknowledgement, Hajime slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside. The residence was silent, not a breath of another living being inside it. Hajime crept through the kitchen and living room, carefully scanning all the corners and opening any doors that one could possibly hide in. His finger laid on the trigger of the gun, breathing controlled and nearly unheard as he stared up the staircase. The brown haired male went up the steps, peering at the hallway on the second floor. Hajime stood at the top of the stairs, inhaling and raising the handgun in preparation. He quickly went through the doors, starting with his sister's bedroom. A quick, yet thorough glance showed that nothing was misplaced. The same went with his parents' bedroom and the bathroom.
Hajime stopped at the door positioned on the opposite end of the hallway from the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he reached for the knob with his free hand. If they somehow managed to open it then Hajime was in big, serious trouble this time. He swallowed over the lump of anxiousness in his throat, clamping his hand on the knob and twisting. It remained taut under his hold, locked.
His shoulders loosened in relief, Hajime letting out a quiet sigh of relief.
Thank goodness for small victories.
The brown haired male continued his search amongst the second floor and found the only displacement to be in his bedroom. There was no intruder present for Hajime to turn trigger-happy, which was only mildly disappointing. Instead, there was a series of photographs scattered along the floor of his bedroom. Hajime scowled at the sight of the familiar contents. It would be a bitch to clean up and explain, but luckily nothing else happened. He could think up a hundred things as an alternative that would easily turn his current circumstances into a worst case scenario. This was considerably tame in comparison.
He crouched down and picked up one of the photographs, staring at the image in consideration. It was the same ones he saw from the Chairman's office. Hajime crumpled the image and tossed it aside, standing and sighing loudly. "I can never catch a break." He muttered to himself, scanning his bedroom. There didn't seem to be anything else.
Placing his handgun down on his desk, Hajime began to gather all the photographs on the ground. Leave it up to the intruder to make a mess of his bedroom for him to clean up. Honestly, Hajime shook his head in annoyance. After gathering all of the evidence, (which he probably shouldn't be touching with his bare hands, but Hajime would rather die than go to the police for something like this) the fifteen year old placed them on his desk in a neat pile and brushed back his hair.
Ignoring the near visible tremble of his limbs as he ran a hand through his light brown locks, Hajime bit violently down on his lower lip. The sharp burst of iron on his tongue only proved that he was no longer capable of brushing aside these instances in hopes that it would end on its own.
It was official at this point, much to his displeasure; Takano Hajime undeniably had a stalker.
The brown haired male pulled open the front door and belatedly winced at the sight of the wide, doe-eyed stare his younger sister was donning. He ran his tongue over the cut on his lip and inwardly cursed himself, running through his mind for a suitable explanation for the wound as well as his initial reaction. Miho stepped inside, cautiously scanning the interior of their home as if someone was waiting behind the corner to jump at them. It wasn't an unreasonable reaction, considering what Hajime had just done.
"There's no one here." Hajime confirmed, closing the door and locking it behind them.
Miho twisted around after removing her shoes and dropped her bags. She crossed her arms and scowled, "What was that then?! You're acting like someone broke in and where the hell did you get that gun?! I thought Otou-san banned you from that!" With the confirmation that there was no danger present, Miho was quick to snark at her brother. Hajime took it with stride and picked up the bags on the ground, walking to the living room and setting them on the coffee table while his sister followed after him.
"I must have forgotten to lock the door and got paranoid. You know how it is. The gun is fake, obviously, and Otou-san did ban me from that over the summer. So if you could keep this hush-hush, that would be great." Hajime breezed through the explanation with a closed-eye smile.
"Stop lying, you idiot!" Miho screeched, leg lurching up to catch him along the side. Hajime caught the limb by the ankle, smile turning lopsidedly apprehensive. Whereas Hajime liked to use his words before resorting to violence as a last possible solution, Miho was the complete opposite. "I know I saw you lock the door before we left. Now what's really going on?! If someone was really in our house then we need to tell Oka-san and Otou-san!"
"That's the last thing we should do." Hajime replied.
"Nii-san!!"
Miho scowled and brought her other leg up to gut him in the stomach, placing both hands on the floor and doing an elegant handspring, returning to her feet while Hajime lay sprawled on the ground. He clutched out his stomach and groaned in resignation. He should have known the menace Miho would become when his mother allowed her to take gymnastics and martial arts classes. Miho towered over his fallen form, eyebrow raised. "Give me one valid reason why I shouldn't call them right now and tell them what's happening?"
Hajime raised his head and peered up at the almost identical face of his younger sister, pursing his lips. If he were someone more responsible, Hajime would be the first to notify his parents. However, he'd undoubtedly lose the last semblance of trust his parents had for him. The last time he talked to his father it was when his curfew had been lifted. Things were left on a good note when his father went on his business trip. If he were to confess all the problems Hajime raised, over a phone call no less, the man would be less than pleased.
Hajime shuddered just thinking about their reaction.
"Just don't tell them first." Hajime bargained, dropping his head back against the floor with a sigh. "I'm going to have to tell Hideo-san anyways if I want to get the security footage of the entrance. When Hideo-san finds out what I'm looking for he'll undoubtedly tell Oka-san and Otou-san, but at least by then there would be enough time for me to explain things properly. It's my problem anyways. I want to do what I can before bringing them in."
Miho remained silent, staring at him in consideration. Hajime gulped in suspense, hoping his sister would see reason (or the lack thereof, in this case). A sock-clad foot nudged at his head, Miho sighing in annoyance. "Fine... You better tell them when they get home or else."
Hajime clasped his hands together, eyes sparkling up at his sister in eternal gratitude. He reached up and grabbed at her ankles, smiling dopily. "Yes! You're the best imouto I could ask for~ !" Miho cringed backward in disgust, shaking her leg violently to rid herself of the large insect on it.
Hajime glared down at his cellphone, staring at the seen indicated as a response to the message he sent to Fukuhara Hideo– the pseudo-uncle that heavily influenced Hajime in the past. He was practically a hated yet loved third parent that somehow managed to swindle his real parents into managing their security system. Which would be considered extremely sketchy if his father wasn't literal brothers in everything but blood with the man. Hajime sighed at the lack of response and returned back to his inbox, absentmindedly reading through the email that Karasuma had sent to the class. Apparently, Class 3-E would be receiving a transfer student.
This time around, Hajime doubted it would be someone from the main building.
Leaves crunched behind him, making Hajime turn around. He couldn't quite help the way a smile grew on his face at the sight of Chiba. After the weekend he had, normalcy never felt so good. Chiba fell into stride with him, bidding a quiet greeting. Hajime bumped shoulders with the black haired male and raised his phone to show the email he was reading. "Mornin', did you see the email Karasuma-sensei sent yesterday?"
Chiba nodded, "I did. It seems like we'll have a new classmate today."
"I'll miss being the newest student in class." Hajime sighed in reminiscence, thinking back to his first day and flashy entrance. He hadn't attempted another solo assassination since then. Perhaps he should start planning another one. Korosensei hadn't been focused on him in a while now. Hajime could probably catch the yellow octopus off guard under the right circumstances. Hajime tapped the cellphone against his lip in contemplation, "Do you think the transfer student will try an assassination on their first day?" Hajime had, although only once, and Akabane had spent a few days since his arrival trying to get on Korosensei's nerves.
"If they're being sent here to kill Korosensei," Chiba began, "they definitely will."
Hajime sweatdropped. "I mean, that's true. I just hope they don't disturb class too much."
When he thought of a transfer student that was possibly an assassin, Hajime only logically assumed they would be of human flesh and mind. Not... whatever this was. The black rectangular machine was positioned at the corner of the classroom. There was only one desk separating Hajime and the supposed transfer student. Hajime rested his cheek on an opened palm and watched as Karasuma introduced it to the class. He was, frankly speaking, unimpressed. Could the government not think of anything else to assassinate the alien octopus that they had to resort to upgraded machinery?
"This is Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery-san, who came here from Norway." Karasuma introduced, looking vaguely pained as he gestured to the machine at his side.
Hajime hummed and raised an eyebrow. There was no way he was pronouncing all of that everytime he referenced it. The screen on the top portion of the machine presented a cute female with lavender hair and crimson colored eyes. It also had a monotone robotic voice that made it difficult for Hajime to consider it a classmate. Honestly, they were just meant to accept this without question? "Please treat me well." The machine stated curtly, before the screen blackened.
Korosensei was trying to contain his giggles at the front of the classroom. Karasuma noticed with a resigned expression, "You better not laugh. You're the same sort of sideshow act." He pointed to the machine. "I'll say this to start. 'She' is an AI with a face who has been registered as a full-fledged student. Though she will be pointing her guns at you from back there, you cannot counterattack against her because you made a contract as a teacher that 'inflicting injury on the students is not allowed.'"
Hajime thought that was a bit unfair, but then again, this was the government he was talking about. They will continue to bend and twist the rules as they please. Korosensei nodded in understanding, "I see. Using my own contract against me. So I'm to treat that machine as a student, despite its appearance." The yellow octopus raised a feeler in a gesture. "Very well. Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery-san, welcome to Class E!"
That name was really too long, Hajime mused, shaking his head. He brought out his notebook and writing utensils, side-eyeing the machine. As long as it didn't cause trouble during their lessons, Hajime had no qualms against the transfer student. He had more important things to worry about as it was. The brown haired male peeked at his cellphone, sighing at the lack of new messages, and pocketed the device just as Korosensei began class.
In the first half hour of the lecture, Hajime managed to write down a decent amount of notes. Korosensei's explanation was very well articulated and paced, making it easy to understand and digest. Hajime was carefully sketching a mind map to visualize the relationship between the characters being analyzed when the transfer student finally made its move. The sound of the machine whirring and expanding took the students by surprise, an impressive amount of firearms appeared from the sides of the rectangular box. The lead of the mechanical pencil Hajime was using snapped at his abrupt jolt.
The sound of consistent gunfire from an automatic machine gun had Hajime ducking for cover, slamming his forehead against his notebook and raising both arms to shield his head. The sound rattled his ears, especially since Hajime was practically right next to the machine. He pitied Hara, knowing it must sound terrible from her position seated right in front of the machine. The heavy barrage of pellets being shot at their homeroom teacher lasted for quite a while before it died into an unsettled silence.
"Firing guns during class is prohibited." Korosensei reminded the class, completely unharmed from the intense attack. Hajime peeked from under his arms to see what was happening.
"I will keep that in mind." The machine said, "Continue, and I will adjust my attack."
Hajime frowned, raising his head the slightest inch to comment. "He just said no firing in class, or did I mishear?"
From the right side of his chair, Akabane snorted. The machine brought out its weapons again and immediately began its barrage against the alien teacher with fervor. Pink pellets flew across the room, hitting the blackboard and falling to the ground as Korosensei dodged with his mach speed. The sound of gunfire shook the olden classroom. Hajime, along with the rest of his classmates, shielded their heads to avoid being caught in the crossfire. It was only when Okuda gasped aloud that the brown haired male looked up to witness a single feeler plop right off of Korosensei's limb and to the ground. Korosensei appeared astonished at the turn of events, evidently blindsided by the machine and its calculations.
So the transfer student had the ability to absorb information and adjust to act accordingly, impressive for an artificial intelligence, but not unheard of. The screen of the machine blinked on, showing the image of the lavender haired female with dull red eyes. It spoke. "Right fingertips destroyed. Effectiveness of expanded secondary gun confirmed. The killing probability of the next shot is less than 0.001%. The killing probability of the shot after that is less than 0.003%. The probability that I'll be about to kill you by graduation is more than 90%." Hajime blinked at the high percentage of success and turned to stare at the machine in consideration. Going by its current actions and momentum, it could very well assassinate Korosensei by the end of the school year.
His reddish-brown eyes glided toward his opened notebook. There were stray pink pellets on his desk, rolling across the wood and falling off the edge. Hajime clenched at his mechanical pencil, only vaguely listening to the machine speak. "I look forward to learning from you, Korosensei. Continue, and I will adjust my attack." It was as Hajime heard those cold, unfeeling words of greeting that he came to a long-suffering realization: there was no way they would be able to learn anything in class if the machine continued on its current path.
The same explosive manner of assault continued all the way down to sixth period, disturbing every lecture and leaving behind a horrible mess of pink pellets in the classroom after every period. Hajime's head throbbed in agony from the continuous rounds of gunfire. His ears still echoed the popping that came directly two seated from his left side. Hajime planted one hand flat on one of the desks at the front of the classroom, the other cradling his forehead, while the students stared at the mess of pellets on the floor. They all remained in a collective speechless silence, unknowing of what to say of the situation.
"Do we... have to clean all of this every time?" Isogai questioned no one in particular. The silence that came in response was an answer in and of itself.
Muramatsu Takuya turned around to face the machine positioned at the corner of the classroom. "Hey, Fixed Artillery-san, haven't ya got any cleaning functions?" The machine remained unresponsive, its screen blacked out. Muramatsu clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Tch. Ignoring me, huh."
"Give it a rest." Yoshida Taiji replied, "Picking a fight with a machine's not gonna do any good."
Hajime stepped up and gently took the broom from Kanzaki, beginning a slow sweep of the nearby pellets at his feet. The surrounding students watched him in reluctance, hesitant to accept that they'd be cleaning up after a machine after every period. Hajime glanced at his classmates who had yet to move and smiled half-heartedly at them, "The faster we clean up here the faster we can all go home. It's not like we can do anything to stop it from making a mess." The absentminded comment that left his lips was only slightly antagonistic. He did receive a mild migraine from all the trouble, Hajime thought it was somewhat justified.
"Takano-san is right." Isogai agreed, sending a look toward Kataoka before motioning for the rest of the class to begin tidying up the room. There were begrudged sighs that echoed, but everyone soon pitched in.
Being back in the main building really did put Hajime out of his depth. The brown haired male struggled to keep his expression straight at the feeling of eyes glancing back at him every so often. Students would openly stare at him with wide eyes, then turn to their companions and furiously whisper as if Hajime didn't notice their presence. It wasn't that the reaction was different from what he was used to, but it did feel unfamiliar knowing that their intentions weren't the same as before. Hajime quietly sighed and raked a hand through his light brown locks. If only Atsushi chose another place to meet up after class.
Hajime approached the club room where the Kunugigaoka Chess Club held its meetings, hiking up his school bag before sliding the door open without knocking. From what his silver haired friend had told him, there were no meetings being held that day. Atsushi claimed that he had some miscellaneous tasks to complete before the day ended as the president and captain of the chess team and that he'd be staying a few minutes late to finish. It wasn't the first time this happened and Hajime had no problem in waiting. For a chess club, there were surprisingly a lot of logistics to handle.
There were two occupants in the room as Hajime entered, Kato Atsushi glancing up from the chess board while the opponent on the other side of the table placed a piece down. Atsushi grinned upon seeing his friend and waved, "Hajime-kun! You're a bit early, I'm almost done here."
"That's quite a rude claim to be making in front of your opponent." The other person stated, looking up and revealing his identity to the room. It was certainly a surprise to see Asano Gakushuu in the chess club room, playing against the chess captain and looking as if this was a regular occurrence. Hajime at least thought so. The brown haired male raised an eyebrow at the unlikely duo and walked up to the table to observe the game in progress, smirking at the position of the pieces on the board.
He side-glanced the student council president and hummed, "Atsushi-kun isn't wrong though. It looks like the game's almost over."
At his words, Atsushi looked over the board and smiled. "You're right!" The silver haired male casually knocked over the chess piece of a knight and proudly declared, "Checkmate! That's sixteen to eight, Asano-kun!" Hajime only peered on in amusement as Asano stared at the chess board in resignation, his lips pressed in a frustrated tight line. Atsushi, on the other hand, stood from his chair and stared at the other two with a wide grin. "You two don't mind cleaning up, right? I just need to get my bag from the classroom. Also, Hajime-kun, your chess board is over there on the shelves if you want to finally bring it home! Thanks again~ !" The silver haired male gave Asano a hearty pat on the shoulder and shot Hajime finger guns before dashing out of the room, leaving a sudden awkward silence in his wake.
Hajime glanced at the shelves and sighed loudly in exasperation upon his friend's whiplash of a presence. There was never a boring second to be spent with Atsushi around. The brown haired male approached the shelves and grabbed the dark brown collapsible box with his surname engraved on the side. It was more of a side hobby than anything, but Atsushi was quite literally over the moon when Hajime expressed his interest in the activity and personally made one made just for him a few years ago. Hajime walked back to the table where Asano was tidying up.
"I didn't realize the two of you were close friends." Hajime stated, catching the strawberry blond's attention. "Atsushi-kun doesn't seem like the type of person you'd associate yourself with."
Asano usually only hung around his fellow virtuosos and a few elite students of prestigious pedigree. Hajime only barely fell into the second category, while Atsushi was neither of the two. The Kato family were upper middle class and owned a small scale business, but that shouldn't have caught the eye of the lone Asano son. Unless there was something else.
The student council president clasped the chess board shut and met his gaze, violet staring into inquiring reddish-brown. "It seems Kato-san overheard that I know how to play chess and accosted me after class a few days ago. He's very–" Asano's forehead wrinkled in thought. "Vigorous in his attempts to challenge me. I assumed playing one game would lessen his interest, but then." The male abruptly stopped in the middle of his sentence, but the explanation was enough to understand.
Hajime gave a teasing eye-closed smile. "But then you lost." Oh boy, now that was something.
Asano's expression twitched at the reminder, but gave a curt nod in response. "Yes."
"Well, you're not alone. I've only won against him like five times in my entire life and I'm a decent player myself. As for the accosting bit, it sounds like something he would do." Hajime nodded in agreement. "Chess is quite a boring game when you're a child, but Atsushi-kun adored playing it. He'll definitely jump someone if he knew they knew how to play."
"I see." Asano replied. "Kato-san is talented. He is worthy of his position as captain."
Hajime chuffed in laughter and glanced at the door. "Careful. He might just faint if he heard the great Asano-san compliment him."
Whatever reasoning the younger Asano had in playing chess with Atsushi, Hajime didn't mind as long as it wasn't malicious. Who knows, maybe Atsushi would mellow the strawberry blond out. No one would be that stiff in the face of sunshine personified. The brown haired student placed his personal chess board in his bag, then leaned against the table to wait for his friend. Asano finished putting away the materials and neared his own school bag, halting when his hand landed on the zipper.
"Actually," Asano began. "I was hoping I'd run into you again, Takano-san."
Hajime hummed in interest and looked over, mind blanking out at the sight of a half-opened envelope with pictures in it. Asano barely had the chance to turn around and make his statement before he was grabbed at the collar and staring into dark and narrowed reddish-brown eyes. Perhaps, if Hajime wasn't recovering from the migraine that developed over the course of the day due to the transfer students' irate attempts in assassinating their homeroom teacher, or had Hajime thought things through before clawing at the student council president and son of the chairman in a way that would definitely lead to his expulsion, then Hajime would realize there was a reasonable explanation for all of this. There was just no way the younger Asano had anything to do with the break-in that happened just the day before, right? The timing was just too convenient and yet he couldn't stop himself from thinking the worst.
Hajime pulled Asano close, glaring as he held the male inches away from his face. Asano tensed, his own eyes narrowing at the rough touch. Takano Hajime was many things, but never this outwardly rude. "Where exactly–" The brown haired male spoke slowly. "Did you get that from, Asano-san?"
currently on haitus.