• Thorn Princess | Assassination Classroom X Reader •

3 - Karma Time

" One ! two ! three ! four ! Five ! Six ! Seven !"

Voices echoed across the sunlit field , sharp and rhythmic , the air trembling with every swing of their blades . Beneath the clear sky , the E-Class moved in unison , the glint of anti-Koro Sensei knives slicing through the afternoon light , their forms a mix of determination , exhaustion and awkward grace .

From the edge of the field , Koro Sensei's gleaming yellow form swayed contentedly in the breeze . He wore a pristine white P.E. shirt stretched absurdly around his rounded body , and a red cap sat crookedly on his head . In one tentacle , he twirled a single golden flower - its petals catching the sunlight , fluttering like laughter .

" Ahh..." he sighed , his voice smooth and theatrical . " The sound of exercise echoing across the field on a sunny afternoon - how peaceful ! "

He clasped his tentacles together , the very picture of serenity . "...If my students didn't happen to be rehearsing my own assassination "

Beside him stood Karasuma - tall , composed , and all sharp lines against the softness of the mountain wind . His crisp white shirt clung slightly to his frame , sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows , the black tie loose enough to suggest both discipline and fatigue . His arms were folded firmly across his chest , his expression unwavering .

" Wield your knives properly from all eight directions " he commanded , his voice steady as steel .

" Yes , sir ! " the class responded .

The students mirrored his movements - slashing the air with precision , eight clean arcs cutting invisible paths through sunlight and dust . The rhythmic sound of their steps and breaths turned the mountain field into a symphony of motion .

" From now on " Karasuma continued , his gaze unwavering , " I'm in charge of phys ed "

" Ahh... that makes me a little lonely , you know "

Koro Sensei's shoulders sagged dramatically , his cap drooping forward like a wilted petal . His eyes turned misty , two shimmering drops of exaggerated sorrow . " My poor , tender heart..."

Karasuma didn't flinch . " Didn't I tell you to make yourself scarce during this period ? Go play in the sandbox "

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the far corner of the field , where a lonely sandbox sat glimmering under the sun .

" You're so mean , Mr. Karasuma " Koro Sensei whined , his voice stretching the words like taffy . " Why , my students love my gym classes ! "

Moments later , the mighty assassin teacher was sulking obediently in the sandbox . He sat there like a dejected child , tentacles tracing half-hearted circles in the sand . The flower he had held earlier was now tucked behind one of his headbands , wilting in shared melancholy .