We're all Hitmen Here

Chapter 1: 80E Time

Special thanks to codedredalert for casually betaing this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own KHR nor do I own AC. They belong to Amano Akira and Matsui Yuusei respectively.



[picture] 'Koro-sensei' (early 30s?) - pg 2-3

[picture] Karasuma, Tadaomi (28) - pg 4
[picture] Jelavic, Irina (20) - pg 5
[picture] Kunugigaoka Middle School Class 3-E - pg 6-8

PRIMARY MISSION OBJECTIVE: Assassinate 'Koro-sensei' - pg 9
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE(S): Prevent destruction of world. Investigate human experimentation rumors. Keep children from mafia. - pg 9
LOCATION: 35.42314°N, 139.159265°E (Kunugigaoka Middle School; Kunugigaoka, Japan) - pg 10
DEADLINE: March 13th
REWARD: 10 billion yen

COVER: Yamato Takashi. Home Economics teacher. (NOTICE: May be known as a Vongola man by associates.) - pg 11

OTHER NOTES: Lucky bastard.

BOSS'S NOTES: Hey Yamamoto, here's a new mission for you! I'd like to have given you another month, but this one sounded right up your alley and you, me, and your dad would all agree that life goes on, right? It's not a forthright assassination, so no need for 'Ghost' this time. I'll send you over on the 5th, so you may want to see Haru to brush up your sewing in the meantime (but I know your cooking's as yummy as always, ne 'Yamashiro-san'?) Your target this time may be our biggest fish—er, sea, but not really sea, creature human octopus argh, you get it—yet :) But for some reason, despite how this 'Koro-sensei' says he's gonna destroy the world and stuff, my HypInt is telling me that he doesn't really mean what he says, not like Byakuran (hmm ~_~). But hey, who would've thought the next big threat to universal existence would come in the form of a slimy yellow octopus, ne?

About that, be sure to follow rumors on human experimentation—I mean, how else could such a creature appear? (well, Gokudera's still convinced he's an UMA, so he's kinda jealous you get this mission ;P) Hmm, 10 bil yen, that would be handy for business dealings—cross that—reparations. (and no, I'm not avoiding paperwork to write you this overly detailed note, (ok maybe I am) but shh, don't tell Reborn) (I need coffee—and sleep. sleep would be nice) And don't forget to report back! (remember to charge your phone!)

Best of luck and stay safe!

SIGNED: [Tsunayoshi Sawada]
DATE: June 3rd

A preemptive strike, Karma called it. If their new sensei couldn't dodge a knife thrown by a measly middle schooler, he didn't have the right to be their teacher.

And really? Isogai couldn't disagree, with the ideology at least. But then again, he didn't have any better methodologies either—only to wait and let the sensei prove himself in due time, but Karma would have dismissed that as too wussy.

Still, if anyone asked, Isogai did not approve.

Their sensei, however, just laughed. A polite yet cheery laugh when greeted first thing by a knife to his face. Karasuma-sensei scowled on his behalf.

"Hi!" he waved, flashing the knife caught between his second and third fingers. "I'm Yamato Takashi, your home economics teacher for the rest of the year. Nice to meet you all!"

At first glance, he could almost be mistaken for Karasuma—tall, broad, spiky black hair. Yamato stood a bit taller, though Karasuma's longer spikes closed the height gap, and Karasuma had broader shoulders. The most distinguishing feature, though, lay their auras. Karasuma emanated stoic straight man with his rigid posture, angular gaze, and downturned mouth whereas Yamato was positively laidback, unassuming slump, smiling eyes, and permanent quirk to his grin.

Karma would later tell him that he was suspicious because he was so unreasonably cheerful, but Isogai couldn't see how that had any connection. Maehara says he's too trusting, but what's wrong with seeing the best in people?

However, when Yamato-sensei turned those warm brown eyes upon him, Isogai couldn't help but repress a shudder. It was only an instant, but in that instant, Isogai felt his layers of class representative, schoolwide ikemen, perfect older brother, stripped away and to reveal his money-grubbing shameful self. Yet the scrutiny held no threat, no judgement. Only perfect understanding.

Isogai watched as each of his classmates in turn squirmed under the same audit, all coming to the same conclusion: this teacher was the real deal.

"I guess I'll start with some stuff about myself. I'm really good at making sushi—my dad taught me everything, and he's really good—and pasta and all sorts of foods but mostly sushi. I've lived all over, so I tend to pick up a few local recipes wherever I've been. Let's see… my favorite sushi are toro, hamachi, and shrimp, and I love milk! You should all drink lots of milk too, it's good for you! Oh right, this is my first year teaching so please forgive me of any mistakes. I look forward to working with you all!" Despite his proclaimed inexperience, he stood perfectly at ease in front of the class.

The door slid open with a nurufufufu.

"Karasuma-sensei! Why wasn't I informed of the arrival of a wonderful new teacher! I was halfway to Paris when my Sensei-senses started tingling!"

Bitch-sensei followed after him, mouthing words and gesturing at her scanty clothing to say that she had tried her best to uphold secrecy. Isogai refused to think about her various schemes—no sirree, he knew his pubescent imagination would leave him scarlet red.

Karasuma-sensei answered with a glare that clearly spoke "trade secret."

Meanwhile, Yamato-sensei laughed and extended a hand. "Nice to meetcha, Koro-sensei! I've heard a lot of good things about you! I'm Yamato, the home economics teacher. I hope you don't mind my intrusion!"

Koro-sensei flushed, quite literally letting what small flattery get to his head. "No, not at all! I look forward to our year together, Yamato-sensei!"

They sealed their meeting with a hand-tentacle-shake.

Their moment was intruded upon, however, by Terasaka's shout: "Are you an alien?"

Right, the bet. Isogai had forgotten in all the excitement. Nakamura had organized an elaborate betting pool regarding the identity of the next person—er, individual—to join the ranks of their assassination classroom. Ritsu had slapped "martian" with 130-1 odds, and Terasaka pounced with a ten Twix bet on it. Isogai himself didn't partake in the betting, though more by lack of funding than anything. But this clearly wasn't the time to ask such sensitive matters.

Koro-sensei seemed to agree, face reddening and shouting back: "How rude, Terasaka-kun!"

Yamato-sensei, to no one's surprise at this point, just laughed it off. "In some senses of the word, I guess so."

If he had left it at that, the incident could have been left behind in good will. But nope, Terasaka just had to make it worse. "No, I mean a martian! Ya know, from Uranus or Atlantis or whatever?" If Isogai weren't Isogai, he would have buried his head beneath his desk in shame.

Yamato laughed again (it must be some pre-programmed response) and said, "Well, I'm Japanese born and bred, citizenship in one, two… too many countries to count, and denizen of of this world. So nope! Not an alien in that sense. The Earth's my home and I don't plan to witness its destruction any time soon!"

Karasuma nodded, appeased, and stepped forward. "Any other questions?"

Whether cowed into silence by second-hand embarrassment or simply out of things to ask, no one moved. No one except Karma, the only other in the class who could be so oblivious to the atmosphere, but entirely by choice. And of course, in typical Karma fashion, he completely disregarded the hand raising.

"Ne, sensei, why are you wasting your talents as a measly home ec teacher? If you're so skilled, why don't you just take the monster's head and go on home?"

Once again, a completely logical inquiry with more tasteful ways of execution out there—Karma's specialty.

Isogai noticed a particular quality about Yamato-sensei's laugh this time. Or rather, it'd always been there and he could finally put his finger on it. His laugh wasn't derisive in the manner he'd thought was universal to all hitmen, but rather full of genuine sunny warmth. If he didn't know better (this was the assassination classroom after all), he could easily see himself emulating the man.

He laughed (of course), and replied, "Well, my boss said so! Said it was a forced vacation of sorts. But don't worry, I'll be trying my best to teach you all—even my secret sushi recipes!"

Karma relented with a "ho." Isogai was one of the (lucky? overly concerned? ikemen?) few who knew of Karma's penchant for great cooking and his recent (and so far failing) venture into authentic sushi-making. And everyone knew of the casual relationship between Karma and secrets.

Nakamura, however, was not done. "Then what's your usual job like?"

If nine months of hectic teaching and assassinating were considered a vacation, Isogai couldn't imagine what Yamato-sensei's formal job involved. Well, he could, maybe, but that would involve the sacrifice of his just-eaten bento. And that had cost good money. He really should stop following Maehara to see those zombie movies—they weren't doing much good for his stomach.

"Haha, the usual. Travelling, cooking, learning trade secrets and the like!"

Karasuma cut in, "He's a mafia hitman." Straightforward as always.

"Now now, Karasuma-sensei. Interrupting is rude!" Koro-sensei reprimanded.

"It's fine! I was done anyway," Yamato smiled.

"How are you planning to assassinate him?" Surprisingly, it was Bitch-sensei who asked the question. She had her serious hitman face on, probably in response to being in such close quarters with another of her profession.

"Well, I haven't been given much information on him and I don't want to reveal too much yet, so we'll see!" Ever optimistic, their new Yamato-sensei. Wise too.

Bitch-sensei, satisfied that she wasn't working with the carefree bumble he seemed to be, pointed a bright pink nail at Nagisa. "Maybe Nagisa-kun over there could help."

Nagisa slid lower in his seat, desperately avoiding eye contact with their predatory sensei. Isogai couldn't blame him, the poor guy.

Fortunately for him, the bell rang, and lunch break ended.


Karasuma had started his students on warm-ups—five laps around the track followed by two laps backwards—before he let his thoughts run back to his mysterious new cohort. He was there, leaning casually against a rugged oak atop the hills, shielding his eyes from the sun to look over the training field. Karasuma could tell that he had chosen the spot deliberately—vantage and veil, comfortable enough to be at ease, but not enough to fall prey to mid-afternoon drowsiness—unsurprising for a man of his suspected caliber. And despite his conspicuous white shirt and electric blue tie, he blended effortlessly into the shadows of the tree. Another testament to his skill. Karasuma estimated at most a quarter of his students would be able to pick up on the guy's presence at a glance. Which reminded him, he would need to start developing their instinctive senses, working up to surroundings awareness and enemy detection.

So when first of the students rounded the bend, he sent a curdling burst of bloodlust in their direction, made manifest in a manic pack of dogs, growling and nipping at their heels. Okano shot ahead with a yip, the first of the bunch to notice. Then a few at a time, the rest of the class picked up on the prickles down their spine, rushing faster, faster than ever in an attempt to outrun some unseen enemy while the sun beat relentlessly above them. Seconds later, Kimura lead the majority of the class by half a lap, Okano not even a step behind. Karasuma shook his head; their overall agility had improved by leaps and bounds, but their reactions were still turtle slow. Any half-decent hitman would have reacted within a second of even a hint of bloodlust. He cast a glance at Yamato, who waved cheerily when their eyes met.

Deciding that the two frantic laps had served lesson enough, Karasuma breathed out and let the tension settle, and the students collapsed like marionettes. They were practically drowning in puddles of sweat. Karasuma may have sympathized with them a bit but for the fact that he was the one put in charge of whipping them into shape. Sympathy could wait till after they've finished their mission.

"Karasuma-sensei," Kurahashi huffed after a minute, pushing herself up to a sitting position, "were you trying to kill us?"

"Yes," he answered simply. When the collective groaning quieted, he continued. "Have you ever killed a man?"

As expected, a chorus of "no"s and "of course not!"s.

"Have you ever thought of killing someone? Truly killing someone." In his peripheral, he noted Yamato approaching, arms cobraed behind his head.

Some students squirmed. Some sat sifting through their thoughts. Karma rolled his eyes. Nagisa avoided eye contact. Yamato, stopped just a few meters away, surveyed the class.

"The target has taught you bloodlust. I will teach you how to detect it, react to it, hone it, and make it your own. Bloodlust is more than spite, more than acrimony, more than any emotion you have ever felt. In effect, it is a projection of your will. The word says it all: a will to kill."

The early summer wind whistled louder than ever as the class took a moment to absorb that. In their peace, even with the new additions to the class serving as reminders, they had forgotten their mission: to kill their homeroom teacher, a superbeing out to destroy the world in less than a year. It was his job to drill it into their heads—unpleasant, but necessary.

"Haha, sounds fun!" Yamato interjected, grinning goofily. The mafia, of course they'd find killing all fun and games. The students looked at him with varying degrees of incredulity.

Karasuma smoothed back a snarl, settling instead to ask neutrally, "and why's that?"

Without missing a beat, amusement sparkling in his words, "because we're all friends here, aren't we?"


Days remaining to assassinate Koro-sensei: 282

A/N: So yeah. I'm open to suggestions on interactions and such, but cannot guarantee anything. And fair warning, I have a bad record with writing long fics (both quality wise and discontinuing wise), however, I do intend to finish (or at least continue for the next while) this one. Pester me to keep to this (but not too much).

And reviews, as always, are much appreciated :3

Cool. Have a good day!

God bless,



[Edited 8/13/16 - fixed some awkward wordings]