fraternizing with the enemy (assassination classroom fanfiction)

reunion time (edited)

Class resumed, though "normal" in E-Class was always a flexible concept.

Ayame found herself adjusting piece by piece—learning when to duck, when to question, when to simply accept that her teacher might vanish mid-sentence to circle the globe. It was... strange. But not unpleasant.

By the end of third period, she had almost begun to settle.

"Now then!" Koro-sensei chirped, clapping his tentacles together. "Enjoy your 40-minute break, students! I shall be heading to Italy for gelato—perhaps this time I will actually get to eat it."

His gaze flicked—brief but pointed—toward Karma.

Then he was gone. A gust of wind swept through the room, papers fluttering in his wake.

Almost instantly, the class dissolved into chatter. Students left their seats, forming clusters of conversation—but their attention was anything but scattered.

Every single one of them was watching.

Or rather—

Watching them.

Karma leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on Ayame
.
"So," he began, his tone unusually serious, "I've been meaning to ask you something... Aya."

A ripple of shock passed through the class at the nickname.

Unfortunately for them, their sudden silence made it painfully obvious.

Karma clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Seriously? If you're going to eavesdrop, at least be good at it."

Before anyone could react, he stood—grabbing Ayame's wrist and pulling her up with him.

"Come on." They stepped outside.

Inside the classroom, chaos erupted in hushed whispers as everyone scrambled toward the windows.

From that distance, they couldn't hear much—only fragments carried on the breeze.
"...what... happened..."
"...please... Aya..."
"...kill..."

What they could see, however, was far more telling.

Karma reached out—his hand brushing her cheek.

Ayame flinched.

The class froze.

Outside – The Full Conversation

"What happened to your cheek?"

Ayame didn't hesitate. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Karma's jaw tightened.

He stepped closer, lifting his hand again—this time gentler. His thumb barely grazed her cheek. She flinched.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

"Please, Aya," he said quietly, the edge in his voice softening. "Trust me."
She stayed silent.

"You know I hate seeing you hurt," he continued. "You're one of the few people I'd—"

He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "...one of the few I'd do anything for."

Ayame hesitated.

For a moment, she considered lying again. Then she met his eyes.

"My father hit me," she said finally. "Because I dropped from second to sixth."

Silence.

"If I don't make top three again by midterms..." She trailed off. "There'll be consequences."