Danny Stein, the American (Assassination Classroom X OHSHC)

Chapter 11

I observed the interactions between classes 3-E and 3-D.  Even if I couldn't understand exactly what was being said, I was still able to read what was displayed on people's faces.  And there was a lot of tension as two students and a teacher taunted our class, all while getting on their own section of the train.

Seeing that a few of my classmates were getting riled up, specifically the two idiots who normally sat in the back of the classroom with me, I approached them.  Upon seeing my approach, the three bullies turned their attention onto me.  At this moment, I'm glad that I can't understand Japanese, because I can't get riled up over something that I don't even understand.  I grabbed Karma by the ear.

"Don't get riled up.  Grab the other hot and bothered idiot and let's go to our class."  I moved away from him, and went to find Nagisa.

I didn't even have to look behind me to know that hey were following me.  I could hear them bickering in what seemed like gibberish.

Once I found Nagisa, I stood by him, and observed the nas two of our teachers showed up.  The reactions of those who weren't in our class was quite comical.  I chuckled to myself before leaning over to whisper into Nagisa's ear.

"What part of the train are we in?"

He galnced at me, and then pointed to one of the open doors.  I nodded in thanks.

Upon entering the train car, I sat down in one of the many empty seats towards the back of the car.  I had my bags with me, so I set them on the seat next to me.

I sat and watched as my peers filed into the car.  The different groups all grouped together, giving off this sense of familiarity that was foreign to me.  Nagisa, Kayano, Karma, and the rest of my group entered and sat down in some of the middle seats.

Suddenly, a body blocked my view of the train.  I looked up and saw that it was the boy who got riled up with Karma earlier when class 3-D was mocking them.  We looked at each other for a moment before he said something to me.

Luckily, when he spoke, the guy gestured towards the seats next to me, so I was able to understand that he wanted to sit in the seats next to me.  I nodded my head yes.

The boy and his three friends all sat next to me, or across from me.  They all started talking to each other in rapid Japanese.  I pulled out my Translation Note, and listened to the words that were being said.  Or, at least, I tried to.  They were all speaking so fast that I could barely tell the words apart from one another.

I sighed and replaced the Note back into my backpack, and pulled out a sketchbook instead.

I knew it was weird for a guy to be into drawing nowadays, but it was something that I had always done.  Back in America, there were those three years where I went to that stupid private school.  None of the classes there were interesting, that is, except for one: art.

Just walking into that classroom was an experience in and of itself.  Compared to the plain white walls, brown carpets, and ultra-clean desks, the art room was utter chaos.

Student art decorated the walls.  The tiled flooring had been stained with dried, spilled paint.  Tables that were adorned with similar designs as the floor were scattered around the room, never in the same spot twice.

By far, it had been my favorite class.

But the thing that made that art class so special wasn't the room.  It was the teacher that taught in that room.

Most of the teachers at the school either ignored me, since they knew that I already knew the material, or they practically worshiped me, for the same reason.  I hated it.

But art was different.  In that teacher's eyes, I wasn't just a prodigy student.  I was a budding art that had a lot of growing and learning to do.  And I love that perspective coming from a teacher.  It was that teacher that actually gave me a worthy challenge, who made me actually work for my high grade.  She graded me so harshly, that there were times that I thought that I wasn't going to pass her class.  But I always did.

The other teachers in the school hated her for the way she treated me, all because they thought that her teaching method was going to drive me away from the school.  But little did they know that she was actually the reason why I stayed at that school for the whole three years.

I was shaken out of my reminescent state by a voice calling my name.  I looked up to see that the four students sitting around me were staring at me.

"Huh?"

The girl with stringy black hair silently pointed behind me at the isle way.

I looked over to see Kayano and one of the girls from our group staring at me.  Kayano spoke to me in Japanese, gesturing to the next train car.

I nodded slowly, and stood up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder in the process.

I followed them to the next car, but a large man bumped into us.  The girls bowed slightly and apologized, but I didn't.  I just stared at the guy.  Guessing from his clothes, I would have said that he was either a high school student, or a business man.  But I was leaning more towards high school student.

I followed the girls silently, and glanced over my shoulder to see the guy bend over to pick something up off the ground.  It was a small book.  I shrugged my shoulders, and continued to follow the pair of girls to wherever they were so eager to get to.

♤♡♢♧

Sorry for the late update.  I know that this is coming out A LOT later than I had originally promise, but I got busy between homework and my mom constantly taking away any and all electronics when I get home.

Thank you guys for reading this!

I don't claim Assination Classroom or Ouran High School Host Club.  I only own Danny and the idea for this crossover.