#autonomously thinking fixed artillery

[glitchy-anime-fan]

My favourite thing is the difference between Karasuma says “Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery-san” like a tired dad

And Korosensei saying “Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery-san” like it’s not the most ridiculous sentence ever

[tenspontaneite]

Fundamentals for the Aspiring Assassin (4/?)

In which assorted plans are ruined, changed, created, and executed.

Warnings: this chapter contains mentions of child trafficking and assorted unpleasantness therein. There are more detailed warnings in the end notes if this worries you.

Ritsu alerted him to Korosensei’s approach around a second before he arrived, appearing perfectly well despite the potentially calamitous assassination attempt which had, presumably, been resolved. Sensibly enough, no one had taken their phones with them into the water, so Ritsu’s awareness of events extended only to the explosion of the river-dam, and a lot of panicked noise. They’d both grown quite anxious waiting for news.

“Good evening, Korosensei.” Nagisa greeted, words merely indistinct rather than incomprehensibly slurred. All of the singing had rather worn out his voice in the process, and it sounded a little rough as he spoke.

The yellow superbeing in question perked up, yellow limbs waving. The movement was worryingly subdued – he looked preoccupied. “Oho, I see you’ve made a lot of improvement in the last few hours, Nagisa-kun.” He observed, coming over by the side of the futon to inspect the various water bottles arrayed there. “Have you been able to drink on your own? It looks like the water level in this bottle is lower.”

Nagisa extended an arm, shakily, and made a weak fist. He couldn’t grasp with any particular strength, but he had reasonable precision now. “Opening the bottles is still quite difficult.” He admitted. “But I’ve managed. I’ve been focusing on my speech.”

“We did karaoke. It really helped!” Ritsu, momentarily distracted from important things by her favourite subject, sounded absolutely delighted by her statement.

Korosensei made an intrigued noise at that, looking to Nagisa for confirmation. He nodded, adding “Hopefully, it wasn’t loud enough for the neighbours to object. But it did help.” Nagisa neglected to mention the many times he’d bitten his tongue and the side of his mouth as part of the recovery process. It was somewhat inevitable, after all. He shook his head, reminding himself of the topic at hand. “More importantly, Korosensei – is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?”

The ever-active tentacles slowed to near-stillness. “…Everyone is fine, Nagisa-kun. Thanks to the warning from Ritsu-san, I was well-prepared for that Shiro-san’s tricks, and Itona-kun as well.” There was something odd in his tone at those words, something that made Nagisa frown. “…Actually, Nagisa-kun, it’s good you’re doing so well this evening. I’m afraid I may have to spend time elsewhere for a while.” It didn’t sound like a comfortable statement. The squirm of his tentacles was sort of heavy and close to the roots, which in body-language terms was an indicator of tension. The nervous flickering of the peripheral limb-tips, at the edge of Nagisa’s vision, hinted at agitation.

“…Sensei?” Nagisa asked, warily. “What’s wrong?”

The small eyes oriented on him, blinking. There was a pause. “I’m afraid Itona-kun performed much more poorly than his guardian hoped, given my preparations.”

Divergence, he thought, with a sinking feeling. “He abandoned him?” He asked, sharply, leaning forwards. His arms were just about steady enough to support him in the endeavour.

Korosensei certainly looked surprised, now. “…Yes, he did.” He agreed, limbs shifting a little closer to his body, gathering in sinuous curves. “I’m afraid he isn’t doing very well. I must devote time to attempting to help him.”

“Oh dear.” Ritsu said, undoubtedly beginning the process of revising many, many plans. “Nagisa?” He glanced at her avatar on the phone. She raised her on-screen hands to gesture at him in concise military-sign, saying ‘changed circumstances. Thoughts on action?’

Nagisa exhaled, staring at the screen. In the future, the use of the sign wouldn’t have been necessary, but it was very valuable here. Korosensei certainly wouldn’t know this breed of sign language. Carefully, he raised his hands to gesture back. ‘Potentially threatening. Last time solution complex, no guarantee repeat. Teammate endangered without help.’ It had taken some tricky work to disconnect Itona from the tentacles enough to remove them, last time. They couldn’t guarantee the same things would happen this time, in which case the boy would die.

“Agreed.” Ritsu murmured, aloud, and moved her screen-hands again. ‘Bring here and administer aid.’ She flicked the gestures upwards at the beginning and end of the sentence; a command-imperative.

He nodded at her, and turned to Korosensei. “Bring him here, Sensei.” He said. Calm, but firm. “We can help him.”

Sensei’s many limbs drew in, held close and ready near his body. His fingers settled atop one another in front of him. “…How so, Nagisa-kun?” His voice was quiet.

“His tentacles are a prototype.” Nagisa explained, flexing his fingers as rapidly as he could manage. He’d be needing manual dexterity soon. “Without maintenance, they’ll cause him extreme pain, and put such stress on his body that he’ll die within days. Most likely from heart failure, but he could also start having strokes. His body temperature will also steadily rise until he risks brain damage.”

“…You know about these implanted tentacles?” A ripple of agitation ran down a number of his limbs, and the words were in an unusually deep timbre. At this point in time, Korosensei didn’t know who ‘Shiro’ really was. He didn’t know how offshoots from his own tentacles had come to be implanted in humans. And, evidently, he was very anxious to find out. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, he might end up finding out more than was convenient.

“More headset knowledge, Sensei.” Ritsu said from the side, red eyes serious. “Though, of course, I know everything Nagisa does. You’ll need his hands for this, though.”

“We can help him.” Nagisa said, plainly. “Very quickly, as well. Bring him here, Korosensei.” It was unfortunate that they couldn’t ask Karasuma first, since he wasn’t home yet, but…well, a life did depend on it. He probably wouldn’t mind.

The superbeing considered that for several seconds. His thoughts were quite easy to guess at: he wanted answers, but he wanted to ensure the safety of his student far more. Tentacles extended slightly, as though loosening. “Very well, Nagisa-kun. I will be back soon.” He blurred out of the room, disappearing from sight.

Nagisa sighed. “I think many of our initial plans just died.” He said, dragging himself with effort from the futon.

“Violently so.” Ritsu agreed, blinking at him as he picked up the phone she was on. “I’ve messaged Karasuma-sensei to know he’ll be hosting another teenager.”

“Good idea.” Nagisa tested the function of his legs and found them sorely lacking. Grimly, he set about crawling towards the suitcase, on the other side of the room, primarily through use of his arms. He reached it, pressing a thumb to the outer interface to open up the keypad. “Code for the keepsake compartment?”

“4-2-4-2-5-6-4-2-9-1-5-6-4-2-7.”

He typed it in as quickly as he could manage with fingers that were still shakier than he’d prefer. The compartment opened with a click and a hiss; the second on the right of the suitcase. At first glance, it didn’t appear especially significant; the contents here were largely computing, as well as a few carefully-wrapped mementoes that Ritsu had strong-armed him into packing. He knew better, though – he brushed aside the false bottom underneath a few of Ritsu’s humming processors, peeling it back with care to reveal another security interface. He bent forward to present it his iris, and then all five fingers of his left hand in sequence. “Code?” He asked again, urgently.

“3-1-0-0-6-0-5-4-2-5-6-4-8-9-2.”

By some miracle he avoided smashing the wrong keys, and the most well-fortified compartment of them all opened on mechanised doors. The section was small, but deep – and it contained the most potentially calamitous things they’d brought with them. There were no tentacle seeds, since those very much counted as organic, but there was pretty much everything but. Rows and rows of chemicals in labelled metallic phials blinked in the light, and he ran his fingers over them, picking out two tiny containers and two equally tiny syringe-and-needle sets. He withdrew with the items, and the compartment promptly closed with all the speed it had been designed for.

Korosensei returned with Itona just as he was closing the compartment, the case’s locks sliding together with tiny mechanical whirrs. Nagisa looked around urgently at the first hint of wind, cradling the precious items to his chest. They were very cold. “Is he conscious?” Nagisa asked, immediately, before the shape of his teacher and teammate had resolved fully.

Itona screamed, angrily, and that answered the question well enough. The sight of him was somewhat like a punch in the face. “Very much so, Nagisa-kun.” Korosensei said, loudly enough to be heard over the noise. “If you know how to help Itona-kun, please do!”

“Put him on the futon and hold him down.” Nagisa said, shaking off his initial reaction and beginning a furious crawl over to said location. He was expedited by a tentacle, arriving beside his patient with both medication and phone. He put everything down, carefully, and inspected Itona. His heart clenched – it had been so long since he last saw him – but there were more important things to worry about than his emotions.

All of Itona’s awful prototype tentacles had been truncated to less than half a metre in length, though several were clearly in the process of regenerating. They were deep black and bloated with liquid, writhing in jerky and frenetic motions that alarmed Nagisa terribly.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Ritsu observed, eyes wide.

“It isn’t.” Nagisa agreed, grimly, and supported himself on one arm while he bent over to check on Itona’s eyes. The blood vessels were all burst, the iris warped – and the tentacles, his temperature – he’d not seen rejection symptoms this bad in a long time. What a horrible prototype. “Itona-kun, can you understand me?”

“I’m strong!” The boy spat at him, wild-eyed, thrashing in his yellow restraints. “I’m stronger than you! I’m stronger than all of you! I can kill you all!” He didn’t make any sort of comment as to why that mattered; evidently, he was in quite deep. He sighed, and settled into the bedside role from long experience.

“I’m sure you can.” Nagisa said, gently, reaching forwards to part Itona’s hair around one of the squirming tentacles. He felt at it, finding the skin around it swollen with unusually dark blood. Not nearly oxygenated enough. The tentacle itself, as expected, was very cold. “You’re very strong, Itona-kun. I believe it.”

“I’m stronger than you!” Itona snarled. “Get off me!” A little of the violence had ebbed at the verbal confirmation of his strength, though. Good.

“I’m here to make you stronger, Itona-kun.” He said, calmly, and sat back, watching his patient’s reactions as he reached for a phial. The tentacles produced a jerky, shuddering ripple – but the motion of it was almost approaching natural.

The boy blinked bloody eyes. “…Stronger.” He repeated, tonelessly. More aggression bled from his frame, and Korosensei’s tentacles shifted to better support him.

“I’m going to make you stronger.” Nagisa promised, slipping the needle onto the syringe. The tentacles shuddered again, and an unnatural pallor came over Itona’s face. He was, at least, struggling less. “You’ll be so strong. Stronger than everyone.” He murmured, soothing, and opened a phial. After a quick glance over to count tentacles, he pulled twelve millilitres of fluid out, and carefully wiped the needle on the edge of the phial as he withdrew it.

“I….” Itona mumbled, frowning. Abruptly, his tentacles exploded into violence again, held tightly down by Korosensei’s. His body, in contrast, seemed weaker, sagging into the futon. “I…I’m not strong enough now. The tentacles…they said they’d make me strong.”

“I know. I understand. You need to be stronger. I’ll help you.” Nagisa rattled off the words almost by rote, providing as much of a balm to the tentacle-gripped mindset as he could. “Lay here, and I’ll make you stronger. I’ll be injecting something into you that will make you stronger.” His fingers trembled a little on the syringe, but he was reasonably confident in his ability to wield it without wasting any doses. He reached forwards with the other hand to part the hair around the nearest tentacle again, murmuring repetitive platitudes as he went.

As expected, the first bite of the needle at the foot of a tentacle made Itona buckle again, screaming rage and pain. “It hurts.” He snapped, eyes pulled wide. The ends of Korosensei’s tentacles wriggled anxiously at the assertion.

“Nagisa-kun?” The superbeing prodded, quite evidently fretting like a mother hen over this indication of suffering.

“Shh.” Nagisa said, more to Korosensei than to Itona. “It will make you stronger, Itona-kun.” Gently, he pulled the needle from the swollen skin. The tentacle there was already noticeably more sluggish than the rest, movements slowed and the dark bleaching out of it, second-by-second. “Sometimes pain is necessary to grow stronger. It was like that when you got your tentacles, wasn’t it?”

Itona blinked at him, caught between induced rage and memory. “…Aa.” He said, slow and confused. “It hurt a lot.”

“This will hurt, as well.” Nagisa told him. “It’ll feel like your skin is burning, in some places. You’ll have sharp pains in your head. Soon, your body will ache and you’ll be tired for a while.” He reached for a new tentacle.

His patient was quiet for several seconds, hissing as the second dose was injected. “It’s starting to burn around the first place.” Not a word about strength in that sentence – good.

“That’s normal. I’ll give you a painkiller once I’m finished with your injections.”

“…It’ll make me stronger?” The voice was almost plaintive, now.

“It will. Please be patient for the procedure.”

Some of the blood was receding from his eyes. “…Okay.” He sighed, most of the remaining tension leaving him. The remaining un-dosed tentacles were still jerking frenetically, of course, but that was just how this ungainly prototype worked. Nagisa worked his way around them quickly, inspecting his dose each time to make sure he wasn’t giving too little.

Then, at last, he’d done it all. Nagisa injected the remaining drops into the tentacle closest to Itona’s temple, just to get rid of it faster. It was never good to have berserk tentacles too close to major blood-flow. “That’s your first injections done, Itona-kun.” He said, sitting back. “How are you feeling?”

“The pain is getting worse.” The boy admitted, brows furrowing. He looked up, and his eyes were almost entirely back to normal. It struck Nagisa, suddenly, how young he was. It felt almost like a physical blow. “And my tentacles feel…numb.”

“That’s also normal.” Nagisa inspected him, deciding that it was probably too soon to reveal that the tentacles would shortly be falling off. He reached to the side for his pill bottle, removing one of the painkillers. He glanced at the Ritsu-phone for input, hand hovering over the multivitamins, and she nodded, so he extracted two of those as well. He presented them to Itona with an unopened bottle of water. “Please take these. There’s a painkiller, and some vitamins to help your body deal with the procedure. Drink as much of the water as you can. It’s important to stay hydrated.”

Itona, so young, was evidently quite used to medical procedures from Yanagisawa’s dubious care, because he didn’t hesitate at all. He took the bottle, opening it with an easy twist that Nagisa wasn’t quite capable of yet, and he downed all of the pills with practiced ease. He stopped after drinking maybe a hundred millilitres, and Nagisa fixed him with a look until he muttered ‘tch’ and drank some more.

“Very good, Itona-kun.” Nagisa praised, earning a confused blink from his charge. Something seemed to occur to him.

“…Aren’t you one of Nii-san’s students?” In the periphery, Sensei’s tentacles squirmed with discomfort at the address.

Nagisa eyed Itona’s own tentacles. They were all drooping, near-motionless, and almost completely white now. “Call him Korosensei, Itona-kun. He isn’t actually your brother. Tentacles don’t mean brotherhood.” He corrected, firmly. “But yes, I am.”

The pale-haired boy’s gaze was owlish. “Shiro didn’t mention anything about you being involved.” He said.

“He doesn’t know everything.” Nagisa informed him, and looked up at Korosensei.

His teacher had been conveniently compliant for the whole time, submitting to what appeared to be superior expertise on Nagisa’s part. It was a little difficult to read his mood at the moment, since his facial expression was quite unhelpful and his tentacles were occupied, with their ends only indicating the discomfort that he could have guessed anyway.

Undoubtedly, there would be many prods for information later. Nagisa sighed, and returned to his patient. He put down one syringe and reached for the next, filling it up with a more sizeable dose. “This is your last injection for now, Itona-kun. It will help mitigate the damage that the tentacles have done to your body.” He reached for an arm, pausing. “Ah, Korosensei? Could you get the first aid kit?”

“Of course!” A tentacle shot off, and returned in seconds. “What do you need?”

“Alcohol wipes, please.” The requested item was removed from its packaging and passed over. Nagisa accepted it with his free hand, and then wiped at the crook of Itona’s elbow. “I’ll be injecting now.” He warned, and then stabbed neatly into the vein. The boy twitched, but didn’t otherwise react.

“…The tentacles damage my body?” He asked, after a moment.

Nagisa wiped at the injection site with the disinfectant as he removed the needle. “They did. You see, Shiro-san implanted you with an unstable prototype tentacle. They do offer great strength, but at considerable cost. Most of the maintenance you’ve needed is simply because it’s an unstable experimental version.” He offered the wipe to Korosensei, murmuring “Cotton and tape, please.”

Korosensei, guessing his goal, simply reached forwards with several filament-thin white tentacles, reducing the tiny puncture on Itona’s arm to nothing.

“…That also works.” Nagisa said, ducking his head briefly. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can help with, Nagisa-kun?” The superbeing inquired.

He considered it, bending forwards to inspect the base of one tentacle. The swelling was already decreasing noticeably, and would likely dissipate completely once the anti-inflammatory in the injected compound kicked in. “No, it should be fine.” He said, sitting back. “Itona-kun? Are you feeling aggressive still?”

The boy blinked yellow eyes at him. “…No, I guess.”

“It should be fine to let him go, Korosensei.” The restraining tentacles held for a moment, then released, gently settling Itona on the futon as they withdrew. Nagisa watched their motion keenly,  then returned to his poor young classmate. “Can you stand?”

Silver brows furrowed, ever so slightly. “Of course I can.” He stated, and then proved it, rising to his feet. The tentacles fell limp around his shoulders as he did so.

“Take one of the seats, then. I’m going to discuss your recovery and future with you.” Nagisa told him, gesturing to Karasuma’s armchairs. He took hold of the two partially depleted phials and slipped them into his pocket, taking hold of his phone and two bottles of water before he started shuffling awkwardly towards his own chair.

Itona, who had navigated to the seat with ease, stared at him. “Why are you crawling?”

Nagisa batted away Korosensei’s tentacles, saying “I need to do this myself, sensei, but thank you.” One-armed, he pulled himself up into the armchair that was almost opposite Itona’s, and sat back with a sigh. “I’m very weak at the moment, because I’ve been undergoing my own procedure. I should recover in a few days. Incidentally, that’s what this headset is for.” Itona straightened at the word ‘weak’ – the tentacles’ influence was still there, clearly. Nagisa reached over to pass a bottle of water, before carefully taking his own. Opening it was a hardship, with his weak grip. “Now, Itona. I’m going to discuss your medical matters quite plainly. Are you comfortable having Korosensei here?”

Yellow tentacles rippled indignantly at the thought of being expelled, but Nagisa was more concerned with Itona’s comfort. He might have guessed that it wasn’t a concern, though. “I don’t care.” The boy said, predictably, accepting the water bottle awkwardly into his lap.

“Alright then.” Nagisa inclined his head. “Korosensei, you may as well take a seat as well.”

“I think I will.” The tall superbeing didn’t fit well in an armchair, and settled onto the two-seat sofa instead. “May I ask questions?”

How refreshingly direct. “It depends on the question, but yes. I have to speak to Itona-kun first, though.” He replied, calmly, and straightened to face the boy in question. “Now, then. I mentioned the damage done to your body. Your prototype tentacles have very negative effects on both your body and your mind. Without proper maintenance, these effects become fatally severe very quickly, especially when you are fighting with the tentacles for long periods. This is why your condition worsened so quickly today.”

“…Shiro usually gave me medications after a fight.” Itona said, face characteristically impassive. “Is that why?”

“Aa. They were necessary to reduce the impact on your system.” Nagisa nodded. “With extended use, even with the right maintenance, your tentacles would have eventually killed you. They have all sorts of terrible effects – they raise your blood pressure, increase the likelihood of blood clots, drastically increase your stress levels…you might have lasted a year or two, with careful maintenance, but you were likely to die either from a heart attack or from something related to blood clots – like a stroke, for example, or a pulmonary embolism. Without maintenance, that would happen in anything from hours to days after a fight.”

A pale hand went up to feel at one of the hanging tentacles. Undoubtedly, there was no feeling left in it at all. “…You did something to them, didn’t you?” His fist clenched around the tentacle, but there was little anger on his face. Mostly resignation.

“I did.” Nagisa agreed. “The first agent I injected will be dissolving their connections to your nerves. Once that’s completed, they will simply fall off. The remaining damage should heal on its own.”

Itona released the tentacle. His hand fell back into his lap. “And the second?”

“Anti-inflammatory, to reduce the swelling caused by your tentacles. Also an anticoagulant, to thin your blood and prevent clots. You should avoid bleeding or getting bruised for the next few days.”

The boy stared down at his hands. “You said you were going to make me stronger.” He didn’t tend to have a great deal of inflection in his voice, but it was there now; just a hint of upset.

“I will.” Nagisa said, and the boy looked up, pale eyes wide. “To start with, Itona-kun, you can’t be strong if you’re dead, so I’ve already helped you there. For the rest, though…in our assassination classroom, we learn many kinds of strength. I know you’re not fond of schoolwork, but that gives you one kind of strength. We learn others, as well. We have daily lessons in fighting, and we have teachers who are happy to give extra instruction. Korosensei here will also be happy to help you become stronger in the ways you personally find important.” The teacher in question nodded eagerly, a pleased ripple passing over his peripheral limbs.

Itona had made a face at the mention of schoolwork, but looked somewhat thoughtful at the rest. “You want me to be a member of the class. Really, not just as a show.”

“Aa.”

He digested that for several seconds, then leaned forwards. His expression was intent. “You said you were going to make me stronger.” He said, leadingly.

Nagisa eyed him warily. “Yes…?”

“You know a lot about the tentacles,” Itona said, and oh, Nagisa knew where this was going- “You know about versions better than what Shiro gave me. Can you give me the better ones?” There was a fair bit of heat in the words.

Nagisa looked at him. He glanced at Korosensei, who would have appeared merely politely interested if not for the twitching at his tentacle-tips. Then he sighed, and looked back. “I could, Itona-kun,” He said frankly, watching the shocked undulation of yellow on the sofa. “But I won’t.”

The tentacles couldn’t actively grip his thought processes any more, but the habits of thought remained. Itona scowled, fingers clenching into fists. “Why?” He demanded.

“My apologies, Itona-kun, but you’re a very bad candidate for tentacles.” He informed, demurely. “If Shiro-san had known more, he would never have chosen you. A drive to be stronger, or a strong drive for anything, is almost always a bad thing for a tentacle user.”

Itona’s eyes would have been red again, if the tentacles had still been live. “Then why was I so strong, if I was such a poor candidate?!” He was tense again, as though poised to spring from the chair and attack.

Nagisa sat calmly in place. He had a large yellow bodyguard, after all. “That was the inherent strength of parasitic tentacles. It had nothing to do with you. If you want to be strong, look elsewhere; tentacles can’t help you.”

“Shiro said-!”

“Shiro-san lied.” He cut in. Itona froze mid-sentence, face scrunching up. “Shiro-san wanted a test subject, and you merely seemed convenient for him, as you had no one supervising you who might object.”

“…Nagisa-kun.” Korosensei said, perhaps in protest. It was a fairly blunt and ruthless way to say it, after all.

Itona held still for several seconds, then sagged like a puppet with cut strings. “Fuck.” He muttered, fists still held tight in his lap. He breathed deeply, almost viciously. Nagisa sat quietly while the boy processed everything, waiting until he looked a little calmer to speak again.

“You don’t need tentacles, Itona-kun.” He claimed, and the boy looked up. He looked so young, he could hardly stand it. “Once I’ve recovered, I’ll personally work with you to help you improve. And, if you like, I’ve got some technical projects you can help with.”

A spark of interest broke through that near-desolate expression. “…Projects?” He asked, near toneless again.

“Computing and assorted electronics, for the most part. All will be far more advanced than what’s available on the market.” Nagisa watched the spark ignite, and pushed a little further. “That should be good, if you want to take over your parents’ factory, right?”

Itona stared at him. There was a hint of suspicion there, but… “Yeah.” He said, and paused. “…When will you be recovered?” The fact that he asked was, for him, a sign of considerable interest. Nagisa smiled.

“I hope to be back at class within a few days, but that depends. You should join the class and get used to things, and I can start you on the projects when I return.”

The boy frowned, thinking. Several silent moments passed, and then he nodded. “Alright.”

Nagisa sighed, admittedly relieved. “Good. Well then, I’ll let you know what to expect from your health over the next few days…”

---

He spent a while longer explaining to Itona that he’d be prone to tiredness for a while, and also was highly likely to experience phantom pain in the tentacles even once they’d fallen off, which should happen by morning. He might experience headaches while he recovered, and would also probably have mood swings for a while. To be safe, Nagisa claimed that he’d need to be put into the neural reprogramming headset to check everything over after a week or so.

Karasuma got back while Nagisa was warning Itona not to mention his tentacle expertise to the class, and Nagisa turned to greet him.

“Ah, Karasuma-sensei.” He said. “Sorry for the imposition. Is it alright if Itona-kun stays here tonight?”

Karasuma entered the living room and inspected the boy in question. The two of them exchanged similar impassive stares. “It’s fine.” He answered, stepping closer. “I heard you were in poor condition, Itona-kun.”

“…This guy helped.” Itona said after a moment. “I’m fine.”

“I see.” The agent looked over at Korosensei, whose tentacles had been quite still for a while now. “Will you be making their dinner, or should I get started?”

Korosensei sprang from the sofa at the mere implication of having the duty stolen from him. “I’ll cook dinner immediately!” He shrieked, limbs abruptly active again, and blurred into the kitchen. The three of them watched him go.

“He’s loud.” Itona observed clinically.

“He certainly is.” Nagisa agreed, ruefully. He offered his phone, Ritsu having remained silent for the whole talk. “Anyway, Itona-kun. You know Ritsu, right?”

He glanced down at the screen, dubious. “What’s the Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery doing on your phone?”

“My name is Ritsu now, Itona-kun.” Ritsu told him, brightly. “I’ve had significant changes to my code since we last met, and I also have data on a number of topics. I’ll be directing your and Nagisa’s projects.”

Itona blinked. “You have schematics?” He guessed.

“And the knowledge of the science and processes required.” Ritsu agreed. “If you like, I can provide you with some reading material for while you wait.”

“I’d rather learn on the job.”

“That’s alright, then.” Ritsu nodded amicably, and then oriented her avatar to the side. “Nagisa, you should put the chemicals back in the case now.”

“Oh, right.” Nagisa tutted at himself, and worked himself carefully out of the armchair, crawling back towards the suitcase. “Sorry.”

Karasuma walked over to observe as Nagisa went through the involved process of getting to the chemical compartment, Ritsu rattling off numbers from a few metres away. His eyebrows raised at the decoy compartment. “Is that a book?”

“It’s two books.” Nagisa admitted, with a sigh. He peeled back the false panel again. “Keepsakes. It’s a waste of space, but Ritsu insisted.”

“I get to keep my most precious things in my databanks. You should have the same privilege.” Ritsu called in response.

Nagisa leaned forwards for the eye-scanner as Itona inquired, flatly, “What’s with the suitcase?”

“I’ll explain it to the whole class when I return.” He answered, withdrawing the phials from his pocket as the compartment opened. He put them back into their places with careful, metallic clinks. Ritsu promptly closed it before Karasuma could look too closely. “It’s important that everyone finds out at the same time. That’s why I’d like you to avoid mentioning that I know a lot about implanted tentacles – that knowledge is related to my procedure and this suitcase.”

Itona grunted, and Nagisa took it as agreement.

---

Later, when everyone had eaten and Korosensei had been conspicuously hovering near Nagisa for a while, he conceded to the inevitable.

“Korosensei.” He said, politely. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

Tentacles quivered. “Quite a lot, Nagisa-kun.”

Nagisa nodded, smiling serenely. “If you could take me to the gym, I’ll do some exercises while we talk.” Karasuma shot him a sharp look, and Nagisa gestured soothingly. “If that’s alright?”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Sensei decreed, gathering him up in a tangle of yellow. After a comparably gentle acceleration, Nagisa was in Karasuma’s small downstairs gym, which was equipped with a treadmill and a weight bench. The latter was quite worthless to him for the moment, but he could just about walk now, so the treadmill would be useful. He shuffled carefully onto it, and started it up at a very slow pace.

“I suppose you have a lot of questions, sensei.” Nagisa observed, setting Ritsu into the slot ordinarily used for water bottles. She looked out at him with interest.

‘Plan change?’ She inquired, with quick and brusque gestures.

‘Improvisation’ He returned, and waited for Korosensei’s response.

“I certainly do, Nagisa-kun. In fact, I’m not sure what I should be asking first.”

Nagisa stared straight ahead, walking slowly, and considered what he was going to say. “I’m going to withhold the most significant information for now, sensei.” He said, eventually. “I can tell you that the headset taught me everything you’re curious about. I won’t tell you who sent me the headset, or how they knew the things they programmed it for.”

There was an abrupt, annoyed flick at the tips of several limbs. “Then what will you tell me?”

He thought. “I’m happy to provide information on the function of implanted tentacles.” He offered. “And I’ll answer questions if they won’t give away the information I’m protecting.”

Sensei produced a grumbling sigh. “Very well, Nagisa-kun.” He paused. “The agent you injected near Itona-kun’s tentacles. What is it?”

“A poison that selectively targets tentacle cells.” He answered, smiling ruefully. “So, yes, it will work as a poison on you. I expect it would only kill you if it were injected close to your heart, though.”

The tentacles offered an intrigued ripple. “Interesting. Will you be sharing it with your classmates?”

“Unlikely. It’s not a very efficient way to kill you, after all. It wouldn’t work well if ingested, and it would be difficult to inject enough of it precisely enough to finish you off.” He explained. “It inhibits regeneration, so it could potentially be useful there, but considering how difficult it is to make, it isn’t worthwhile.”

“Hmmm~” Korosensei put a yellow finger to his face in mock-thoughtfulness. “So, in other words, it’s mainly useful for removing implanted tentacles safely.”

“Exactly.”

“Fu-fu…very interesting. Any more interesting poisons in that case of yours, hm?”

Nagisa beamed at him. “Now, that would be telling.”

His teacher’s eyes slanted as he laughed. “Nuru-fu-fu-fu. Very well, I’ll wait to be surprised.”

“Anything else, sensei?”

The animated motion of his many limbs slowed a bit. “…You mentioned a technical project to Itona-kun.”

“I did.” Nagisa nodded, reminded. “Actually, I’ll be wanting your help with that, sensei. You see, we’re planning to tunnel into the mountain to create a secure underground bunker. I’m sure I could convince the class to help, but you’d be able to do the tunnelling most quickly and discreetly.” He reached out to pause the treadmill, and took his phone.

Korosensei’s tentacles waved in a sort of slow, baffled curl. “…An underground bunker.”

“The contents of the suitcase aren’t safe enough. They also require some assembly, which needs to be done in a secure and secret area.” Nagisa nodded. “Also, Ritsu needs to increase her processing capabilities to be able to function properly, and we need a safe place to store her servers. There’s a lot of reasons for the bunker. Will you help?”

“If it’s to help my students, of course.” The superbeing answered, slowly.

“Excellent.” Ritsu proclaimed, and shifted the screen. Nagisa stood in front of Korosensei and displayed it to him.

“This is a diagram of the entry-way.” Nagisa explained, pinching the image to zoom in on the relevant area. “We selected this area, part-way up the cliff, as the primary entrance. It can probably be hidden quite well there. We want to put a short corridor in, with a decoy living quarters. If you can, Korosensei, I’d like you to develop that area into something you would plausibly live in. That way, if anyone finds it, they might think it’s one of your hideouts.”

A small drop of sweat ran down Korosensei’s head. “One of my hideouts?” He repeated, nervously.

“Yes, like the ones you make in the shape of your head. But more subtle.” Nagisa agreed, Ritsu giggling out of the speakers. Korosensei, predictably, started on some flustered twitching at that. “Also, you might want to keep this one tidy, as an example to the students who will be seeing it.”

The teacher was, by now, earnestly sweating. “A-ah, Nagisa-kun…”

“And please, no pornography shrine.” He requested politely. “Okajima-kun might be badly distracted.”

“Nyuya?!” Korosensei’s tentacles drew back in shocked, frantic arcs. “S-sensei has no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I’m sure.” Nagisa said, agreeably. “But, at any rate, this entry area can be customised to your taste, as long as it’s all kept hidden. Concealed in the area will be the opening for a modest elevator shaft.” He moved the image, showing the descent. “The actual elevator will take a while to construct, so we’ll have to use a makeshift ladder in the meantime.”

“…Are you being provided with funding for this?” Korosensei inquired, tentacles calming slightly at the indication that his hideouts weren’t going to be further discussed.

“No, not at all.” He admitted, sighing. “We’ve been given all the aid we’re going to get, and the construction project should stay a secret from the many governments with their eye on you. If it’s not a problem, I’d like your help with moving materials, sensei.”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with class.” He allowed.

“Thank you.” Nagisa zoomed out of the basic schematic and switched to the 3D modelling software that Ritsu had compiled for his phone in about five minutes. “So, this is the main part.”

Korosensei stared. “Nagisa-kun.” He said. “That’s not a bunker, it’s an underground complex.”

“It will contain a bunker, though.” He pointed to a section of the blueprint helpfully labelled BUNKER, accompanied by notes on its various functions.

“…So I see.” The superbeing observed.

“We mainly just need the big space dug to those specifications, for now.” He hesitated. “If you could start as soon as possible, it would be wonderful. Itona-kun should be fine without extra help now, and so should I.”

“And I suppose you will want this done discreetly?” Two yellow appendages curled at the edge of his vision in a thoughtful sine.

“It’s very important that the site remains secure. And secret.” He nodded.

“From who?”

“Everyone except the members of the class and the teachers.”

The face of an early-type superbeing was generally not given to nuance: it was impossible to see any flicker of sharp interest in Korosensei’s tiny eyes. The tentacles said more than enough, though – for those who knew how to look, they were very expressive indeed. “This does make me very curious about your mysterious benefactor, Nagisa-kun, if this is to be secret for almost everyone.”

He smiled guilelessly. “My ‘benefactor’ will know about the bunker.” He said, in perfect truth. “It wouldn’t make sense otherwise.”

“Why not leave the case with your benefactor, if you trust them with its contents?” The teacher inquired, handling appendages crossing at his front. One yellow digit tapped the other in a sort of thoughtful motion.

Nagisa hummed, glancing over at Ritsu. She shook her head, minutely. “I won’t be answering any more questions about my benefactor.” He said, calm, and tapped the treadmill’s display to incrementally increase his walking speed.

“You appear to take direction from Ritsu-san.” Korosensei observed.

“She’s much smarter than me, and more knowledgeable.” He shrugged, and said nothing more.

“You flatter me, Nagisa!” Ritsu chirped from the nearby phone, before peering in Sensei’s direction. “But I think you should stop answering questions now.”

He saluted, smiling ruefully at Korosensei. “Ritsu has spoken.” He shrugged again. “If you have some questions later, I’ll see if I can answer.”

The tentacles slowed in their perpetual motion, just a little. Unpleasant thoughts, the movement said. Of course, his voice gave none of that away. “Nagisa-kun, one more question, if you will.” I am worried, expressed the increasingly drawn-in yellow motion. “These changes that have been made to you…is there any conditioning involved? Are you obliged to obey certain people or orders, or have certain reactions to things?”

Nagisa blinked, and looked at Ritsu for permission. She did not seem especially concerned by the line of questioning, and waved at him dismissively. “It’s fine.” She told him.

He paused the motion of the treadmill to face Korosensei properly. “There’s no imperative for me to follow certain commands, or the orders of anyone in particular.” He said. “My free will is intact. I have the capacity for making my own decisions. However, I now trust Ritsu far more than I did before, and if I’m uncertain of something, I’ll trust her judgement above my own.” He hesitated, then added “Also, I am very vigilant regarding tentacles.”

Korosensei had looked as though he wanted to comment on the information about Ritsu, but the last part seemed to interrupt that intent. “’Vigilant’, Nagisa-kun?” He asked, almost sharply. The irregular wriggling at the end of his handling tentacles quite handily communicated his discomfort.

“I am very aware of tentacles moving in my vicinity.” Nagisa confirmed, unbothered by the superbeing’s reaction. “If any move very quickly towards me, it will register like a weapon moving towards me – like a fist or knife, for example.” He didn’t have the reflexes or speed to accompany that instinctive vigilance, now, but…it was still useful. He smiled disarmingly. “Don’t worry, Korosensei. I’ve not been programmed with any particular aggression – it’s just a higher level of awareness.”

Some of the unease left the motion of his teacher’s appendages, but there was still a certain disquietude there. “Hmmmm….” Korosensei expressed dubiously, and then he pelted a tentacle at Nagisa’s face, creating a slight whoosh of displaced air as it went. Naturally, it stopped before making any contact, and he blinked at the yellow now within his focal range. “You didn’t show any reaction then, Nagisa-kun.”

“That’s because it wasn’t very unexpected, Korosensei.” He explained. “I’d flinch or react if you made sudden movements when I’m off-guard or not expecting it, but you were quite obvious just now.”

“Nyu?” The round yellow head tilted slightly, colour hinting at the incipience of green. “I suppose you are much better at following my movements now, nyu-hu-hu…”

Nagisa smiled, and said nothing.

“Well then. I look forward to seeing what effect this has on your assassination, once you’ve recovered.” The green that had been threatening to appear spread with force across his skin. “Of course, you will have to improve a great deal to have a chance, Nagisa-kun! I do hope this was worth it, nuru-fu-fu…” He chuckled ominously, looming slightly as his eyes put off light.

“I hope I will not disappoint you, Sensei.” Nagisa answered placidly, utterly unbothered by the teacher’s showiness.

“As long as you try your best, you will never disappoint me.” The superbeing declared, tentacles adding emphasis with a surge of movement. “Well then! If you are doing well now, I will get to work on your secret underground lair!” His handling tentacles performed a dramatic flourish, less an expression of mood and more a display of personality, and then he sped away with a soft boom and a localised gust of wind.

“He’s quite bothered by all of this.” Ritsu observed, drawing his attention back to the screen.

“Aa.” He agreed, restarting the treadmill at a slow walk. “He doesn’t know where these tentacles are coming from, after all, and now you and I have shown up with such significant alterations, too…”

“It must be very disconcerting.” She nodded. “It’s good he’s agreed to dig the tunnels, though. Construction would take far longer otherwise, with much more of a security risk.”

“We did think it was likely he’d agree. It’s not very difficult for him, and he’s gone to greater lengths for students before.” Nagisa shrugged, pausing the treadmill again to shake out his legs and try to gauge their level of mobility. “It’s true that you need space for processing power, for example, so it’s a very good reason for him to go to the effort.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to have some proper hardware again.” Ritsu bemoaned, shifting track rapidly to wistfulness. “I’m not used to being this slow, Nagisa. I don’t like it.”

“You were much slower, once.” He told her, amused. “Imagine if we’d not brought all of the computing with us. What would you have done then?”

“Failed miserably at everything, obviously, because I wouldn’t have the processing power to run my up-to-date self.” She harrumphed.

He snorted softly. “Well, wait a week or so, and we’ll have you closer to living in the style to which you have become accustomed.”

“A week.” She sighed forlornly. A week was, after all, a very long time in AI terms.

“You’ll survive.” Nagisa put the treadmill on to a considerably faster setting, then regretted it as one of his legs stuttered mid-motion and tripped him up. “Ow.” He muttered, having fallen on his front. The treadmill had, at least, shut off – he had sensibly attached the clip-on safety cord.

“Still shaky.” Ritsu commented critically.

“Yes, but that’s not a bad thing. I need to look somewhat incapacitated when I return.” He countered, getting back onto the treadmill. “In fact, I hesitate to practice much beyond getting a good grasp of walking back. Once I can walk fairly reliably at four kilometres per hour, maybe…”

“You should be ready to go back tomorrow, then. Have you decided on the plan yet?”

“I think I should be dropped at a city not too close to Tokyo, but not too far either, otherwise they won’t want to send me back without hospitalising me first.” He answered, restarting his slow walk. “As it is, I expect I will have to spend some time in police custody.” A pause, and he continued. “I’m thinking I should show signs of long-term restraint, and perhaps drugging. Some more chloroform, perhaps. Then it would be less odd for me to lack memory for such a specific time-frame.”

“If you were supposedly unconscious for most of it, certainly.” Ritsu acknowledged, her avatar’s brow furrowing in a splendid simulation of thoughtfulness. “Nagisa, have you considered implicating some real people in your capture?”

He blinked. “As in, frame someone?”

“It could be a good option. Korosensei should agree to plant evidence, and then you won’t have to worry about faking amnesia.”

“I’d only consider it if I could frame someone who is genuinely a criminal of that scope already.” He dipped his chin a little lower, pondering it. “Do you know of any child trafficking rings operating in Japan that we could use?”

“Not at present.” She said. “But give me some time to do some in-depth hacking, and I ought to have some candidates for you.” It was, after all, a sad fact of present society that there were plenty of places for such people to exist, and therefore plenty such people did exist.

“Thank you, Ritsu. Let me know if you find anything?”

“Of course.”

He stared at the treadmill for a few seconds, then sighed. “Well, I’d best stop this until we know what we’re doing.” If he did end up going with the brain damage story, he wouldn’t want to be too coordinated, after all.

---

A little less than two hours later, and Ritsu had hacked her way through enough computers, chat rooms, and phone records to have a very decent idea of several unsavoury operations they could implicate. They convened in the sitting room to discuss and plan, Itona off to the side on one sofa and Karasuma observing sharply from an armchair.

“If this one in Tokyo itself checks out, it would be quite convenient.” Ritsu said, voice emanating from the phone’s speakers even as he looked over information on its screen. “Otherwise, rings such as these do tend to move their ‘acquisitions’ quickly, so it would make sense for you to be found in another city.”

“There are child abduction rings operating in Tokyo?” Karasuma asked, disgust curling in his voice. His frown was quite fierce.

“It’s the capital city, sensei.” Nagisa answered, softly. “Of course there are.” He redirected his focus to Ritsu. “Whichever one we decide on, please send in some anonymous tips on the others, once we’re done.” He requested, frowning at the thought of all the appalling crime and injustice that existed in today’s world. It had taken an apocalypse and the eradication of most of the human race to manage it, but…at least their future, whatever else its problems were, had been rid of most crime for a long time. It was unpleasant to think of how much suffering was going on at that very moment.

“Once I’ve invaded enough of the Internet, I’ll be doing more than that.” Ritsu agreed, quite darkly. “In any case, I’ve sent a message to Korosensei asking him to stop by tomorrow. He ought to be happy to do some scouting for us, especially given what we’re asking.”

Korosensei, while he had been a fairly indiscriminate assassin for his whole life, was not wholly without morals. He disliked, very ardently, the exploitation of those who could not defend themselves. “Ask him for an estimated time of arrival.” Nagisa suggested. “We’ll want to send him a message shortly before to warn him of my physical state. He might…overreact, otherwise.”

“Sensible.” The AI nodded.

“What’s wrong with your physical state?” Itona asked, apparently finally curious enough to break through his semi-drug-induced apathy.

“Well.” Nagisa switched on the front-facing camera on his phone to inspect his face. “I’m in fairly good condition at the moment. It would add realism if I changed that.” He was quite pale and tired-looking, which was a convenient side effect of a near week of dramatic brain alteration, sickness, and drugging. It was a good start. He inspected his wrists, thoughtfully, then looked back at his face in the phone. “What do you think, Ritsu? Bruises on the face?”

Ignoring the slightly puzzled look from Itona and the displeasure from Karasuma, Ritsu hummed. “Maybe some light grazing, and a worried lip?” She suggested. “As if you got hit into the ground.”

Nagisa nodded, eyes casting around the sitting room floor. “Most of the floors here are too delicate for it. The downstairs escape tunnel, maybe.” It had very basic concrete flooring, and ought to do the trick. “What else? I was thinking rope burns.” He indicated his wrists.

“That would work well.” Ritsu nodded. “Perhaps make it look like you’ve been restrained at different times, with some marks partially healed?”

“That will be easier if I can get Korosensei to partially heal some marks.” Nagisa looked at his slim wrists. He knew that he bruised and marked up quite easily as a human, so that would work in his favour. “Same for miscellaneous bruising.”

“Nagisa-kun.” Karasuma cut in, voice and expression very severe. “I am not comfortable with you injuring yourself for the purpose of appearances.”

“That’s very kind of you, sensei.” Nagisa smiled slightly, and dipped his head. “However, I am very comfortable with it, and a show like this will greatly improve my cover. I won’t deal myself any damage that will leave a lasting mark, so it’s not a problem.”

“You’re pretending that you were kidnapped by criminals to cover your procedure,” Itona voiced slowly, yellow eyes largely unconcerned by the subject matter. “And so to make it seem more real, you’re going to get real injuries?”

“That’s right, Itona-kun.” Nagisa smiled at him, more brightly. “When playing a role to fool others, it’s important to use props to make it seem realistic. An infiltrator may use accents, mannerisms, certain items, or even physical changes to improve their cover, and therefore chances of being believed.”

“Is it necessary in this case?” Karasuma demanded. “You will have been missing for a week, with witnesses to show that you were taken by force. Who would question your claims?”

“Thoroughness is always important, Karasuma-sensei.” Nagisa said, firmly. “In this case, if they suspect that I’ve been dosed with certain substances, or hit, or restrained, they will be less likely to look for more problematic things – like the nanomachines in my bloodstream, for example.” He paused. “On the other hand, we don’t want to give the impression of something severely traumatic, so the damage can’t be too…suggestive, so to speak. Marks of extended restraint, perhaps the sort of bruise you acquire when trying to escape…”

“How will you be claiming to have escaped in the first place?” The man asked after a moment, still scowling, but seemingly a little closer to accepting his reasoning. “And what will you do if the men arrested deny having ever seen you?”

Nagisa sighed. “Easiest would be for me to be actually captured, but that’s too risky. I’ll ask Korosensei to plant blood and hair for me, and if necessary leave a paper trail to accompany the electronic one Ritsu will be adding. With that evidence, no one will believe the criminals if they claim not to have seen me. As for my escape – that depends on which location we end up using. I’ll be able to engineer a realistic story then.” He shrugged. “Until then…where’s that rope you were using to restrain me before, sensei?”

Karasuma stared at him for several moments, very considerably displeased, then swept his scowl to the side. “I left it in the hallway cupboard.”

He nodded gratefully, and stood up to go and fetch it. “Thank you, sensei.”

---

It took some insisting, but eventually Nagisa was allowed to damage himself in peace. He did require assistance for some of it, though.

“Tie my wrists behind my back, please.” He asked Karasuma at one point, staring insistently until he was finally obliged, and then he made several corrections on the tightness and placement before becoming satisfied. He then spent the next hour pulling against the ropes until his wrists were raw and bruised, the skin broken in some places. He had the rope relocated to lower on his wrists and then repeated the process.

After that, he had himself gagged, then went downstairs to the secret escape tunnel and hit his face into the floor a couple of times, carefully simulating the sort of scrapes he might get if trying to escape restraints in a very awkward position. In the end he succeeded in getting some nice, realistic scrapes, and also pulled at the gag enough to get some light damage around his mouth.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince Karasuma to hit him or grab him to get some good realism bruises, and while Itona seemed unconcerned about beating him up for show Karasuma wouldn’t allow that either. Nagisa went to bed slightly disgruntled with that failure, and in the morning set about trying to argue Karasuma into compliance.

“It’s not an issue, sensei.” He said insistently, in a departure from the serene and demure affect he tended to prefer. “You won’t cause any permanent damage, and it will be useful for the cover. I’m quite literally asking for it and besides I’m sure you’ve given me worse bruises in training before. I don’t see what the problem is.”

Karasuma was, by this point, looking slightly more receptive to the idea. However, since he had very little facial expression on the best of days, that wasn’t saying much. “One problem, if nothing else, is that I have no wish to be strangled again.” He said, dryly.

Nagisa stopped, considering Korosensei. “Ah.” He looked at his phone. “When is he coming, again?”

“Not long now.” Ritsu assured, and so they sat and waited for Korosensei to arrive.

As expected, the superbeing fretted extensively over Nagisa’s self-inflicted injuries, even though he’d been pre-emptively warned. Also as expected, he jumped at the chance to heal one set of wrist abrasions to make it seem older.

“That’s enough, Sensei.” Nagisa said, not long after the filaments began their work. “Any more and it will be implausibly healed.” His teacher pretended to ignore him, so he got firmer. “Sensei. If you heal it too much, I’ll just have to do it again. Stop now.”

“A teacher is not meant to allow his students to come to harm, Nagisa-kun.” Korosensei muttered darkly, his fine tentacle filaments withdrawing with palpable reluctance.

“Don’t pretend you’ve not done worse for the sake of a cover,” Nagisa said, and received a sharp look from Korosensei, Ritsu, and Karasuma for his troubles. He realised that he wasn’t meant to know about Korosensei’s extensive background in assassination, and promptly abandoned the subject. “And besides, I need to have more marks than this. I’ve been trying to convince Karasuma-sensei to help me with realistic struggle bruises.”

Yellow went wild with agitation. “Absolutely not!” Korosensei near-screeched.

Nagisa blinked at him. “Well, Sensei, if your investigation shows that the children in these locations are in very good condition, perhaps that won’t be necessary.” He said, diplomatically. “In the meantime, could you heal the damage and swelling from my spinal taps? I’d like to avoid that being visible on scans.”

“…Of course, Nagisa-kun.” The superbeing muttered, and redirected his healing filaments. It unsurprisingly felt much better to move his neck once that was done, and then he stood up, visibly unhappy. “I suppose I had best go do some scouting now.”

“It would be appreciated.” Nagisa inclined his head politely. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can return to the amnesia story. However, this plan is more believable, and furthermore will have some criminals apprehended and children rescued, hopefully.”

“I can’t fault your reasoning, unfortunately.” Korosensei said, sourly, and gathered himself. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, he was off.

---

When Korosensei returned, having successfully completed a stealth reconnaissance of several sites, he was black-skinned and trembling with rage. The report made for very heavy, very unpleasant listening. Once he was done explaining the details of the various locations, Nagisa reached out and put a hand on one of his tentacles.

“Thank you for helping, Sensei.” He said, softly. “Remember, we’ll have those children safe soon.”

“I’m not certain ‘soon’ is soon enough, Nagisa-kun.” There was a low, angry timbre to the teacher’s voice, and his tentacles were roiling with anger. The one Nagisa had touched had stilled, though. “If it wouldn’t compromise your cover, I would rescue every one of them, tonight.” Steam exhaled from his mouth as he spoke the last word.

“Crime won’t be solved in a single night, Korosensei.” He reminded, not unsympathetically. “It’s on Ritsu’s agenda to help tip off the authorities about operations like these. In the meantime, might I suggest arranging poisonings or accidents for some of their captors? Something to disrupt their procedures enough to prevent bad things from happening until the arrests.”

It…didn’t exactly sit well with him, either. He had at his disposal a superbeing who would gladly remove every one of those children from danger within the hour, but because he needed a good cover story, he was delaying. It didn’t soothe him much to think that, without their intervention, these children would never be rescued at all. He was still allowing injustice to continue, if only for a short while.

He sighed, and deliberately moved on. “Considering the information you’ve brought, the one based here in Tokyo seems best.” As it happened, the organisation was loosely connected with certain individuals in the local Yakuza family, though what evidence there was quite clearly indicated efforts towards plausible deniability for both sides. It seemed likely that the traffickers would not receive Yakuza protection from the law if they ‘screwed up’, so it was a decent target.

There was also the fact that children taken by this ring were generally sold onto buyers or other traffickers…’untouched’, so to speak. Though there was certainly rough handling, it didn’t seem to go further than that in most cases. They also didn’t give the children any addictive drugs.

Nagisa considered the information he’d been given, and deemed the detail insufficient. “So, to begin with, what was the state of dress of most of the children?” He asked, settling in for a long interrogation. He had a lot of details to consider, after all.

It took a long time to exhaust everything he or Ritsu could think of, and Itona, who’d elected to stay for the talk, was looking quite uncomfortable. Korosensei himself was persistently black-skinned, steaming with rage, and occasionally slipped into a reverberating snarl of a voice that was really quite threatening. Karasuma didn’t seem much better, and was scowling more fiercely than Nagisa had ever seen before.

Nagisa pursed his lips, and turned to Karasuma. “I think you’d best help me with those bruises, sensei.” He said, firmly. The man glared, and Korosensei hissed like an angry snake, but in the end Karasuma nodded and Korosensei didn’t object. He stood and jerked his head in the direction of the escape stairs, both because it was away from Korosensei and because a simulated struggle likely wouldn’t be good for the furniture.

Unfortunately, Korosensei elected to follow. Itona was either not curious enough or too uncomfortable to do the same, so he stayed where he was.

“Korosensei, you may wish to avoid supervising this.” Ritsu advised from Nagisa’s phone as they headed downstairs. The superbeing merely shook his head and continued following, so, well. That was his choice.

Nagisa stopped in the concrete escape tunnel and considered what to do. “I think grab my forearms from behind, Karasuma-sensei.” He said, and turned to offer the arms in question. There was a foreboding silence before he heard the shift behind him, and then hands clamped down on his arms. Nagisa nodded, and then set to struggling with all his might.

In the end it was a slightly traumatised duo of teachers that took him back upstairs, and Nagisa was feeling quite guilty for putting them through it all. He had gained some nice hand-shaped bruises on his wrists though, as well as some knee bruises from being shoved on the ground, and a good hand-bruise on one shoulder. They caused a variable amount of pain; a couple of them had been selectively healed, and were less raw.

The rest of the day passed with miscellaneous preparation: between classes, Korosensei chose the most plausible location for him to ‘break’ from – a ground-floor room with a particularly decrepit and rusty pipe running up one wall, and a window only just big enough for someone Nagisa’s size to squeeze through. The glass was already cracked from some prior incident, and wouldn’t be implausibly difficult to shatter. Shortly before Nagisa’s official escape time, the pipe would appear to have been pulled from the wall by the occupant tied to it, and the window broken using the sole stool in the room. On the window’s glass shards, Nagisa’s blood would be placed, as well as some choice fabric and hair strands. Nagisa spent the prep time being mildly drugged, because it seemed that the children there were sedated with chloroform or rohypnol when unruly and it wouldn’t do to have no traces of it in his bloodstream.

The clothes Nagisa had been kidnapped in, incidentally also the ones he’d been sweating in for several days, were wiped over the room to collect some authentic grime and maybe even hairs and such, and it was into these that Nagisa changed when the preparations were nearly ready to go. He rubbed some more grime into his hair, got himself nice and unkempt, and then declared himself ready at close to midnight.

What this meant was that Korosensei took him (minus phone) to a nearby rooftop while he prepared the apparent escape room, leaving the rope and blood and hair and such inside the room while Nagisa removed a piece of a broken glass bottle he’d filched from Karasuma’s recycling when no one was looking. He successfully sliced his clothes and himself up with believable broken-window-crawling damage before Korosensei could return to protest, then waited.

“Nagisa-kun,” Korosensei hissed, very unhappy, when he came to see the blood seeping through pieces of ripped clothes. “That was not necessary.”

“Given the apparent escape route, I think it was.” Nagisa disagreed, handing over the bloodied glass. “Could you dispose of this somewhere non-incriminating, please?”

A little unsettlingly, Korosensei ate it, glass crunching between his teeth as his skin blackened further. Then he followed the plan, and set Nagisa a short distance from the house, where surely the occupants would be coming to investigate the ruckus soon. “I’ll be watching, Nagisa-kun.” He said, quiet and serious. “Good luck.” Then he vanished into the shadows of the night; not visible, but close by.

Nagisa took a deep breath, feeling the aches of the bruises and the sting of the cuts. Then, still dazed from the drugs and unsteady from the neural rewiring, he staggered with feigned desperation along the pre-planned route to either a helpful bystander or the police station – whichever came first.

Nagisa stumbled through darkened streets, watched over by his teacher, and settled breath by breath into the role he was to play.

 ---

End chapter.

Detailed chapter warnings: Some medical stuff, involving needles. Later, there is non-detailed discussion of child trafficking and illegal activities related to this, including drugging of children and abuse of children. Nagisa also causes himself physical harm to improve his cover, and convinces Karasuma to simulate a struggle to add some realistic bruises in.

Chapter notes: I let this carry on longer than my typical 7-8k as a ‘I took ages to write this’ bonus. Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will involve Nagisa returning to the world and dealing the consequences of the cover he chose, and possibly some more interactions with various characters. We’ll see.

Also since it’s been ages since I updated I can’t quite remember what changes I’ve made to chapter 3, which will be going on ao3, so maybe read that to be sure of stuff. Also I’m currently somewhere with completely awful internet so if I make any posting mistakes I won’t be able to fix them with my customary speed.

Content notes: references are made in this chapter to events which only appear in the manga. Namely, the contents of one of Korosensei’s hideouts, which he uses as a sort of getaway where he can be a shameful slob without worrying about being a bad influence on 3-E.

[basedstoutland]

If I had a nickel for every time there was a purple AI girl who was at least at one point a ship and made themselves mobile when they originally weren’t, I’d have two nickels. Isn’t a lot but it’s cool that its happened twice.

[irraydiance]

The last of the Class E students. I went back to check when I first posted these Grad Album translations and it turns out I first posted Karma’s profile a year ago today! And July 4th is the day the fanbook was released. It’s been fun reading (and translating) these profiles.

I love the “yearbook signings”/message boards extracts in the profiles; they kind of give you a glimpse of the character relationships in the class...and some of my headcanons were confirmed lol. I wish the manga had devoted more time to developing the supporting characters and exploring the character relationships, but alas.

Image credit: @dr-j33. Many many thanks.

As always, let me know of any mistakes. Thank you!

E-27 - Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery / "Ritsu" (自立思考固定砲台 Jiritsu Shikou Kotei Houdai)

Kunugigaoka Junior High School                      ⇓ Megacloud Living System ※ Transfers base of operations to the internet

Her main body's been dismantled but her personality continues to evolve on the internet. As per Ritsu’s wishes, for now, only those associated with Class E are aware of her existence as she continues to assist them while thoroughly enjoying her digital life. If you run into an unusually tough opponent while playing online shogi, that's probably Ritsu.

E-28 - Horibe Itona (堀部糸成)

Kunugigaoka Junior High School                          ⇓ Inada Jitsugyō (Vocational) High School[1]                          ⇓ New Horibe Electronics Co., Ltd. ※ While working, acquires bookkeeping skills and all knowledge and licenses needed for running an independent business

Wanting to focus on improving their products on-site over studying at university, he works with his father day and night, devoting all their time to making prototypes of their products. With help from old friends in their fields of study, developmental talks with Mitsumata Heavy Industries[2] are already on the table.

Notes

[1] He went to the same high school as Shindou (Sugino’s friend from the baseball club), which seems to be a parody of Waseda Jitsugyō High School. It’s a trade/vocational school.

[2] It's a parody of Mitsubishi Heavy Industries, one of the core companies that make up the Mitsubishi Group.

Other Graduation Album Time personal histories

➤ Pages index

<<   E-25 & E-26 ➤ Yada Touka & Yoshida Taisei   |   E-27 & E-28 ➤ Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery (Ritsu) & Horibe Itona

[hanabikuroi]

❤ Fairy Ritsu ❤

[assassin-no-jikan]

This is such a badass moment for Chiba!!

Also in the 8th photo we see how Chiba sees the world lol

[indigoflowerz]

Connie Springer Headcanons

Relationships

General relationship

· Connie really enjoys and appreciates when you cook because he hardly ever has a home cooked meal.

· Although he’s not the best cook, he loves to help you out in the kitchen in whatever ways he can. Usually he’ll wash the dishes afterwards, but while you’re cooking he’ll try his best to entertain you by busting out some silly dance moves or telling one of his outrageous stories.

· If you guys go out to eat, he makes it a point to remember your order and what things you like the most.

· One day you asked him if he would play Stardew Valley with you. Reluctantly he agreed because he usually doesn’t play these types of games. However, after playing a couple times he started to enjoy building a cute little farm with you and the mini adventures you guys would have. His favorite moment by far would be asking you to the Flower Dance, or whenever you agreed to him giving all of the animals weird names like “left sock” or “autonomously intelligent fixed artillery.”

· The past couple times when he’s asked you to play and you said no, he’ll go destroy some of the crops and joke about flirting with Abigail in the game. So to get back at him you would start building your relationship with Alex because he’s the total opposite of Connie and say you’re going to marry Alex in the game. This plan backfired though because the next time you guys went into the mines together, he left you to deal with the monsters and ran off to the other levels.

· Sometimes when Connie streams, he asks for you to join him so you guys will either play Among Us, Stardew Valley, or Minecraft.

· Connie’s love languages would be quality time and physical touch. Both tie hand and hand with each other rather well in Connie’s case, except for when you’re having a bad day and need some space. Although he does give you what space you may need, it just about kills him when he knows you’re breaking down and he can’t hold you in his arms or play with your hair to soothe your worries.

· No matter what the two of you may be up to, Connie is sure to make the best out of the situation. Whether it be anything from a trip to the grocery store or spending your afternoon snuggled up on the couch, his top priority is none other than making you feel loved.

· Speaking of grocery store shopping, he would definitely try to sneak in a few random items to the cart while you’re not looking, kinda like how kids do with their parents. Even though he thinks you don’t notice, it’s plainly obvious by the major mischievous smile that he poorly tries to hide.

· Connie is the type to try and carry EVERYTHING whenever you guys go shopping, no matter if it’s groceries, clothes, or random items. If you even so much as try to protest, he immediately cuts you off and scrambles to pick everything up at once before you can touch a bag. His philosophy for carrying in groceries is that it must be done in one trip, even if the bags start to cut off the circulation in his hands.

· Also, Connie is a major bed hog and starfishes in the bed every night. Trying to get him to move over an inch is next to impossible, unless you choose to pull out the secret weapon — tickling. I firmly believe that Connie is ticklish all throughout his torso, more specifically his upper ribcage. Don’t tickle him for too long though because then he starts to get frustrated and a bit crabby.

· A nighttime cuddle routine is a must in Connie’s eyes. If you guys don’t cuddle each other before falling asleep, then something bad must’ve went down. Of course you don’t have to fall asleep in each other’s arms, which is sometimes understandable why because Connie unknowingly jerks and twitches in his sleep.

· While cuddling before bed, Connie always asks you what was your favorite part of your day and what you wish tomorrow will bring. Although he comes off as a total goof ball, he still tries to have serious moments with you.

[phantoms-lair]

Koro-Sensei’s Awakening

What do you want to be?

The question was the first thing that pierced the darkness his mind was wrapped in. He’d been asked that before, and he’d remembered his answer then. “Weak” He’d wanted to shed his identity of The Reaper. To live in the world Aguri had lived in .

The tentacles had complied, not with his word but his intention. The ‘Super Being’ was certainly not weak. But he’d been able to connect to people, to experience their sorrows and triumphs. He only had one year to live after that day, but a better final year he couldn’t ask for.

And, as it turned out, it was only a year due to his own foolishness. He approached his goal - teaching Aguri’s class, as he would have something from his old life. Something that must be done from a position of strength. He set himself up as the monster, bringing catastrophe if they didn’t give in to his one odd demand of being a teacher.

And in the end, that was what killed him. He’d built himself up as a threat too big to ignore, ensuring he’d never find peace. It hadn’t seemed to matter that much when he was going to die soon. He’d never expected to be saved, to find out he had been saved months ago. But by then it was too late. What do you want to be?

 He knew he didn’t want to be The Reaper. Did he want to be Koro-Sensei? Yes and no. While he liked both his speed and his tentacles, he didn’t want to be the world-threatening super being again. He just wanted to exist, to learn, to teach.

What do you want to be?

“I want to be me!” he yelled into nothingness. The voice fell silent, and darkness took him once more.

~

His next bout of awareness was slow and sluggish. There was an oxygen mask on his face and he was connected to various equipment. With what little strength he had he tore them out and tried to flop out of bed. But his tentacles weren’t moving right, he had to escape!

“Easy Koro-Sensei.” The voice was comforting, familiar. It was someone he could trust. He felt himself relax. 

“Don’t want to get hooked up again.” he muttered.

“Now that you’ve awoken, you don’t have to.” The voice reassured.

“Good.” was the last thing he murmured as he fell asleep again.

~

The next time he awoke he was more cognizant, but wasn’t sure what to make of his situation. He was on a bed in what looked like a hidden room. There was medical equipment, but as promised it wasn’t hooked up to him.

But what was really perplexing him was the fact that he had legs and feet. In addition to four tentacle arms. Judging by feel his face was human and his hair...well he wasn’t sure what was going on there. 

It was tentacles, he could tell that much, but thinner strands, like the monofilament ones he’d used for the surgery that saved Kaede’s life. Yet at the same time he could feel them merging into thicker tentacle strands, which then dissolved back into thin ones.

“I have brought you breakfast,” The door opened and Koro-Sensei wondered if it was a dream. “You seemed to enjoy sweets, so I’opted for french toast, with a side of fruit.”

“Ritsu? How are you here?” He stared as what seemed to be an older version of his student, or at least the image his student projected.

“A robotic body I inhabit.” The Autonomously Intelligent Fixed Artillery (though she seemed to have abandoned the last two parts) answered, putting the tray in front of him. “And after breakfast we can work on your cover.”

“My cover?” He asked, as his stomach gurgled, enticed by the food. “I do not know why you regenerated with a more human appearance, but it is to our benefit. Though the ‘Assassination Classroom’ incident has been marked resolved with your death, it would be troublesome if someone connected your appearance and realized you were still alive.”

Point. It had probably been years after his not-as-deadly-as-he-thought death, judging by her appearance, but no need to stir the pot. Still... “Don’t you think these might give me away?” he asked, waving his tentacles.

Ritsu merely smiled. “While you eat, let me tell you about a new phenomenon called ‘Quirks’.”

[thebonggirll]

chapter eight

< previous: chapter seven

A new student joined the class. Not exactly a student but AIFA, Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery programmed to kill Koro. But he didn't flinch from the position of a teacher. He fixed her and even added programs that can help her make friends. The class accepted her pretty quickly, and gave her a new name - Ritsu.

Other than that nothing more eventful happened after they came back from their field trip. More like, Y/N avoided discussing about it. Rio knew that something happened that changed her attitude towards Karma, but she didn't press her much to talk about it. Well, okay she did force her a little bit but Y/N said that it wasn't a big deal. And she's wise enough to change her attitude.

After the trip, Y/N didn't exactly avoid Karma. No, it would give away the fact that she knows about him and who he likes. So she acted the way she usually did with him, except now she didn't hope for more.

But well, she acted the same way. Didn't have to do that before.

During lunch, she used to come earlier in class to spend more time with him. Now that was of no use.

"Hey cherry," Karma said sitting on her desk.

"Hey?" Y/N said, "What's up?"

"What's up?" Karma smirked and moved closer to her face, "I don't know, you tell me."

Even if she acted like friends, she couldn't help but feel for him. It's not like her feelings for him would go away instantly. She still blushed when he called her cherry.

Just friends.

Y/N didn't say anything about it . "Move, the teacher is gonna be here."

During the P.E. period, Rio pulled her aside to talk about it in the changing room. It was painful to watch her best friend struggle that way. She couldn't just stand and watch it.

"Seriously Y/N," Rio said, "Talk about it. I know you'll be fine but...you're not your usual self."

Y/N sighed. It would lessen the burden of carrying it all alone. "Okay, but promise me you won't lash out."

Rio said, "I'll think about it."

"No please, I want to handle it on my own. So just..."

"Fine," Rio sighed, "I won't."

"During the trip, I heard something...I mean, I didn't mean to pry but I was passing by the boy's room and I heard Karma say something."

"....that he prefers Okuda?"

Y/N whipped her head towards Rio, eyes wide and asked, "You know about it?"

"Yeah, I talked with the boys. They wanted information about who liked who, and I wanted information in return."

"Wait! Why would you-"

"I said we all preferred Karasuma sensei. It's not a lie," Rio sneered.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head, "Gosh, you really are evil."

"Not as much as Karma though. The girls weren't lying when they said he's a psycho."

"Hey, he's nice once you get to know him."

"...that's what Okuda said too."

Y/N fidgeted and stuttered, ""Well...good for them."

"What? You really won't care if they started dating?"

"Come on you know me. It would bother me but...I won't interfere."

"In other words you would ignore him, right? I don't see you do that to him now."

"Yeah, that's my last resort and it worked everytime. Karma isn't at fault here. I just...took it all seriously."

"Isn't at fault?! Dude he's flirting with you! How is that not a signal?!"

"I don't know okay?!" Y/N shouted, and cleared her throat when the other girls looked at them.

"What are you gonna do about it? Cause if you don't I will."

"You promised me that you won't lash out."

"Well I promised to be in Top 50 but things change!"

"I would too, if you do break the promise."

"Why are you even protecting him? He doesn't need that shit! He probably doesn't even care!"

"I'm not protecting him, but protecting our friendship. I don't want to break our bond in all these stupid stuffs."

"Fuck you," Rio sighed, "Fine. But don't stop me if I want to keep you to myself."

"I won't," Y/N laughed.

After their P.E. class, the students went back to their classes. Karma did notice the change and he wondered what happened in the trip that made her like this. Was it because of scolding her back there? No, she wasn't so petty..right?

He walked and sat down on her desk. "Hey, you wanna go work for your maths homework tomorrow?"

He looked at her, no stared at her intensely. It was obvious he wanted a yes, and Y/N didn't...couldn't say no to him. They were still friends.

"Yeah, sorry we have plans," Rio said, keeping a hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't ask you though." Karma's voice sounded rude, "I asked you, cherry."

Y/N averted her eyes and said, "Sorry we have plans."

"For what?"

"Movies and then sleepover. Don't be annoying Karma," Rio said displaying her signature sarcastic smile.

The door opened and Koro came in. Both of them went back to their seats.

Y/N sighed. The tension in the air was suffocating. Karma saw through her, didn't he?

The day was over, and it felt exhausting to act like everything's fine. Y/N just wanted to go home and sleep. Before Karma and Nagisa could catch up to her, she wanted to leave. But something stopped her. Ofcourse.

"Y/N?"

Karma called her by her name. She looked back at him, but he didn't have his usual smirk.

"Care to join me and Nagisa to watch Sonic Ninja? Koro sensei will take us."

Y/N looked at the ground and said, "I'm really tired Karma. Maybe another day."

She was about to leave when he stopped her by holding her arm.

"I'm not stupid," he sighed and rubbed his forehead, "What I'm saying is, if you have a problem, talk about it instead of acting like a coward."

Y/N couldn't look at him. It would annoy him if she told about it. It was a private discussion and she was the one prying. But she knew, eventually they have to talk about it. "It's nothing," she replied, "alright bye."

Karma watched her leave, with her head hanging down. She was looking at the ground again. He could remember the last time she walked this way. When those other sections were bullying Nagisa, right?

But, all of this wasn't useless. Karma got his usual smirk on his face.

"Y/N is a terrible liar."

next: chapter nine >

ms. misfit

MASTERLIST

[ao3feed-assassin-class]

Sneaked Student

Sneaked Student by Marorin5

In which Ritsu tags along to one of Karma's classes in Kunugigaoka and ends up meeting Gakushuu.

Words: 1183, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Assassination Classroom

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Ritsu, Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery, Akabane Karma, Asano Gakushuu

Relationships: Akabane Karma & Asano Gakushuu, Akabane Karma & Ritsu, Asano Gakushuu & Ritsu

Additional Tags: High School, Friendship, Ritsu wants to learn, Gakushuu thinks the E Class is insane, This is absolutely pointless, i love ritsu, And Karma, And Gakushuu, There should be more stories about Ritsu

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153964

[chquine]

Day 2: Fear

Neither Chiba nor Hayami was expressive. Even as junior high students in Kunugigaoka's Class E, they were all-business; no-nonsense individuals, preferring to let their actions do the talking. This did not imply that they were apathetic. When confronted by a cute cat, Hayami all but shed her cool countenance and donned a school girl's giddy smiles. When beaten by an Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery in shōgi three games in, Chiba frowned and hung his head in exasperation and shame. When the assassination depended on that single shot the two of then dealt, the two gave in to pressure, trigger fingers shaking and shoulders seizing. The lack of confidence that followed was silent and heavy, but ultimately short-lived. Yanagizawa's assault on the teacher that they looked up to incited fear, both for themselves and Koro-sensei. Tears were shed when the knife went through their teacher's necktie. Hiding your emotions did not mean apathy; it meant you recognized what you felt and determined that it was best hidden, locked inside a small corner of your mind because there was something else that needed to be accomplished. Chiba and Hayami excelled in this. Chiba stared at Hayami who sat across him, legs crossed, brows furrowed and absorbed in her book. He was having troubles in getting employed and Hayami declared herself to be his second blade. It made him guilty, to depend on her like this, but at the same time, he admired her determination. She had always been amazing, even when they were younger and delegated to the bottom of Kunugigaoka's social laddder and he liked that about her. He studied her and then: "I'm... Frightened." Frightened because Hayami was making him feel so much emotions at once even though she just sat there and read. Frightened because he had mastery over hiding his emotions yet choose to forget that when she was around. Frightened because this was Hayami Rinka. Her green eyes fell on him, inscrutable yet turbulent. For a moment, Chiba wondered if she felt the same because that was usually the case. Her hand found his on the coffee table. "I am too."

[insomniamagic]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Diane Hasekura (Prince of Stride); Ritsu -  Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery (Assassination Classroom) & Nedzu (BNHA) - 1.1.2018. Hope you all have a beautiful day and new year!!! 

[tenspontaneite]

Fundamentals for the Aspiring Assassin (3/?)

Later, Ritsu told him that the third day was easily the worst.

In his lucid moments, he could recall parts of the last few days. He remembered sitting with Karasuma-sensei and trying to pull the disparate shards of memory together, trying to discern the mysteries steadily assembling in his brain. He remembered waking up on the hallway floor, with little idea of how he got there. He remembered waking up in excruciating pain, and talking one teacher down from killing the other.

He remembered almost nothing about the third day; not until the sun was dipping below the horizon, and the room had gone orange from the light through the curtains. He didn’t wake, so much as he became aware of being awake, sights and sounds transforming into something that had meaning, something that wasn’t just maddening noise. The room was red-and-orange and there were tentacles waving across his vision.

Nagisa stiffened at the sight of them, and they stilled.

“Nagisa-kun?”

The voice was familiar, and easy to place. “Korosensei.” He identified, and tried to sit up. His muscles twitched, but did little more – held back by something. He looked down and found yellow twined around his limbs, far softer than the rope had been, but decidedly firmer. “…What time is it?”

“It’s 6.47pm, Nagisa.” Ritsu said, her voice unusually subdued. “How are you feeling?”

Nagisa took a moment to assess his physical state. He felt…awful. “Quite bad.” He admitted, noticing that his throat felt rough and sore, his voice unusually hoarse. His body felt like a giant bruise and the headache was wreaking havoc on his ability to form coherent thoughts. He looked up, and sure enough, Korosensei was there. The sight of him… “What are you doing here, Sensei?”

The super-being emitted a long, thoughtful noise. “Why, taking care of you, Nagisa-kun!” He waved his tentacles cheerfully. Nagisa’s eyes tracked them unerringly, the sight making him feel oddly aggressive. “I have to say, I’m glad I found you last night~! Ritsu-chan might have had trouble taking care of you on her own, I think.”

Nagisa noted that he was quite thoroughly restrained. A glance around revealed that he wasn’t in the futon at all – he was, in fact, suspended carefully in the air by a tangle of yellow appendages, his head and neck tenderly supported. “I don’t remember anything.” He ventured, uneasy. “Is it the third day? …the fourth?”

One tentacle retrieved a bottle of water, another carefully shook some vitamins out of their bottle. “Only the third, nuru-fu-fu~. You haven’t had a very good day though, I have to say.” The items drifted close to his face as he was manoeuvred, with painstaking care, into an upright position. The tentacles on his arms slipped away. “Can you take these, Nagisa-kun?”

Tentatively, he reached out. His fingers were shaky and weak as they closed around the bottle, and trembled too much for him to open it. Before he could even ask, a tentacle had solved that problem, whipping the lid off in a supersonic blur of movement. A supersonic blur that, interestingly enough, he had no problem following. “…Thank you, Sensei.” He tipped the bottle back and took several small gulps, finding that his throat rebelled at the motion, the gag reflex unusually sensitive. Nausea. He’d been ill today, then? He accepted the vitamins and took them one by one, spluttering a little as he fought not to gag. “I don’t suppose I’ve eaten much today.” Nagisa sighed, taking another sip of water before allowing the bottle to be taken from him.

“You have had some difficulty keeping your food down, that’s true.” Korosensei agreed. “You’ve been quite ill – but still with a healthy bloodlust, I’m pleased to say.” He giggled, nyu-hu-hu, as though tremendously pleased by this detail.

Nagisa observed his teacher warily. “Bloodlust, Sensei?”

“You have tried to kill Korosensei numerous times today.” Ritsu informed him helpfully from nearby.

“Quite unsuccessfully, as you can see.” The super-being’s head ran through with green stripes. “I have to wonder if this treatment of yours is worth it! You’ve made far better attempts in the past.”

Nagisa narrowed his eyes. “In the past, I wasn’t half-way through intensive brain modifications.” He retorted, blinking as he remembered…something brain-related. It suddenly occurred to him that this wasn’t the first time he’d had his brain thoroughly messed with, though details weren’t forthcoming.

“That’s true.” Sensei mused, wide grin as unmoving as ever. “Still, I think there’s been some improvements, hm? You have much better motion perception now~.” He flicked a tentacle past Nagisa’s face, insanely fast, but still well within his capability to track. He flinched, proving the point quite nicely. “We’ll see if you’re any better at killing me in three days…”

The words were vaguely ominous, in the way they tended to be when inviting kill-attempts. Confident and challenging, with a little mirth.

Nagisa stared at him consideringly, eyes flicking momentarily to the case in the corner. Quite abruptly, the vivid memory of packing it came to mind. He remembered other compartments, ones he’d never seen before. He knew that computing lined the whole thing, nodes of memory and data storage in every corner, occupying even the carbon-nanotubules that were the primary reinforcement for the shell…it was paltry, compared to what Ritsu had once had available to her, but the hardware in that case was ahead of anything available this far in the past.

“…Ritsu.” He murmured, thinking hard. “Are you alright? You have barely any sensors.” It occurred to him, for the first time, that she might be feeling as wrong as he was – disembodied, almost. Stuffed down into a weak and rigid form with far too little sensory input. The knowledge of why he felt like that was almost there, a memory at the root of everything…

Korosensei looked over at the phone inquisitively as Ritsu offered a vaguely uncomfortable smile. “It’s fine, Nagisa. I’ve been branching out a little to compensate. We can talk about it later.” She looked significantly at their large yellow teacher.

“…Keeping secrets from Sensei, I see.” Korosensei said, morose.

Nagisa wasn’t paying much attention, though. He frowned, looking down, looking at limbs of yellow waving through the air and, feeling, like-

The tentacles stopped moving. The stillness was…soothing. Nagisa’s perceptions shifted with a disorientating jolt, and he realised he’d been on the edge of…something. Madness and grief and rage flickered at the edge of his thoughts, shaped like super-beings made of whipping shadows. He realised that he was sweating, breathing hard, out of nowhere-

“Nagisa-kun,” Korosensei said, keeping his many limbs motionless. “Ritsu-chan and Karasuma-sensei refuse to tell me the purpose of this headset of yours, but I worry that it is giving you some unpleasant mental conditioning. You’ve been reacting quite unpleasantly to Sensei’s friendly tentacles today.”

He kept quiet for almost a minute, desperately trying to calm himself from the sudden…something. “Sorry.” He said softly. “I don’t know why, yet.” He felt…fragile. Like a paper lantern holding in a flame. His head hurt. Colours weren’t right, suddenly.

Slowly, a tentacle began to move, reaching for the water again. Nagisa’s eyes tracked it unerringly, the motion utterly arresting, utterly infuriating, dangerous-

“Sensei, Nagisa…” He heard Ritsu, her voice unusually worried. “Nagisa, I think you might need to start your next cycle early. I don’t like the look of your brain right now.” Nagisa felt oddly cold at the words, but not afraid. Not worried.

“Ritsu-chan, he hasn’t even had dinner yet.” Korosensei pointed out, his eyes slanting outwards in a hint of unease.

“Try to take some more vitamins, it will have to do. Sensei, please fill up the headset with that fluid, too.”

A little numbly, Nagisa accepted the water and several more vitamins, fighting against his nausea to swallow each one down, fighting against the mind that kept wanting to remember-

“Quickly, Korosensei-“

He felt a shudder run down his body, sickeningly strong, like he was undergoing a completely different procedure, like something was latching onto his mind, asking what do you want to be/what can we make of you/what will you become

“Beginning cycle.”

---

The next time Nagisa woke up, he was alone with the Ritsu-phone, and he understood what was wrong with his body and senses. He knew.

“Ritsu,” he spoke, astounded at the realisation, “I was a super-being myself, wasn’t I?”

Red eyes blinked at him. “You remember, Nagisa-kun?”

“Not…really.” He admitted, raising an uncoordinated hand to rub at his eyes. “Not much. I…remember the tentacles asking me what I wanted to be.” He remembered sight and scent and sound and touch being so much more than they were now, he remembered not being confined to two hands and feet and a rigid skeleton…

Ritsu’s face on the phone was more serious than she’d ever seen it. “Do you remember what you said?”

“I…” It was a powerful memory, rooted through ­years of thoughts and emotions and experiences, like it was the foundation of everything that came after it.

What do you want to be? What will you be? What will you become?

Nagisa shuddered. “I remember.” And, with that in place, he could remember so much more. “Ritsu…I never realised how much it affected my mind. I spent decades, decades, like that…” It was one thing to know, objectively, that you weren’t the same person you’d been before the treatments. It was another thing entirely to be in a normal body, feeling like himself again.

“You were still Nagisa.” Ritsu asserted, sadly. “You were different, but you were still Nagisa. You must remember me talking about it.”

He did. (“You’re different now, Nagisa. You don’t think or feel the same way about things anymore. You can’t tell, but it’s true.”) “I handed control over to you.” He recalled, rubbing at the side of the headset as if he could reach the skull beneath. He remembered long, long years of complete trust, moving at the behest of an artificial intelligence, trusting her to know who he was when he couldn’t remember, trusting her to know what he needed to do… “Ritsu…” It was overwhelming.

“…Nagisa.” Her voice was soft. He realised that he was crying.

“The others…they all died. Didn’t they.”

Her avatar peered at him, eyes hooded with sorrow. “It’s why you took the treatments. You couldn’t manage the job alone.”

He nodded, jerkily, and breathed through the floods of emotion. The intensity was unfamiliar. He hadn’t realised how much the tentacles had dulled it. “It’s the fourth day?”

“It is.” Her avatar was less familiar to him by now than the electronic voice in his head, but it was still unbearably reassuring to see her there. “Korosensei has decided to supervise you as much as he can for the rest of the process, but I sent him away for class so that we could speak.”

“Korosensei…” Nagisa could remember the previous evening, a little. “He was here yesterday, wasn’t he? And something went wrong.”

“You were unstable the whole day, Nagisa, and quite ill too.” Ritsu put her virtual face in her virtual hands, as though tired by the memory. “You had quite violent flashbacks throughout the day, and reacted badly almost every time Sensei moved his tentacles too quickly. You vomited every time you ate anything more filling than vitamins. I realised in the evening that, well, you were sort of at a tipping point – at a stage where you needed to have more done or your brain wouldn’t be functional. You...nearly had some very bad seizures.”

He sort of remembered that. “Was that when you put me out early?”

“It was. It came on quite suddenly.” Ritsu’s avatar looked down, shame-faced. “I’ll be watching more closely now. But you should be over the hill, so to speak – things should get easier.”

“My memory is certainly better.” Nagisa agreed, looking dubiously at his trembling fingers. “These tremors, though…”

“They’ll get worse before they get better. It will be a while before you can work on them.”

“Well, after the last cycle.” He sighed. “So, have I given anything important away?”

“I’m quite sure that Sensei doesn’t know about the time travel yet.” His AI overlord claimed. “He thinks you’re being conditioned to be aggressive towards him and is quite upset about it. He’s noticed the case, but taken me at my word that I’ll blow it up if he tries to get in or take it away. The rest of the class haven’t given anything away, either. Hopefully we can take him by surprise.”

Nagisa frowned, trying to recall. “With…the upgrade?” He muttered, brows furrowed. “That was one of the objectives, wasn’t it?”

“We only have the one vial for now. If you can get the drop on him, it’ll be enough. Otherwise we’ll have to make more.” She paused. “Do you remember any other objectives?”

“…Kidnapping scientists?” He guessed, knowing it wasn’t right but unable to place the memory.

Ritsu giggled. “Not quite, Nagisa. I suppose we’ll just have to wait for the next cycle.”

---

Nagisa was lucid enough that morning that he managed to get up, get to the kitchen, and fetch his own breakfast. Unfortunately, Korosensei ended up returning almost the very moment he began hacking that breakfast back up again.

“This is a bit embarrassing, sensei…” He muttered, not bothering to resist, as he was suspended in mid-air by tentacles and painstakingly cleansed. “None of it even hit me. You got a bucket at Mach-20 speeds and made sure I didn’t make a mess.”

“You are ill, Nagisa-kun! I will take perfect care of you, or how could I face you as your teacher?!”

It was somewhat startling, to suddenly be in this position. Even without taking the time travel into account…Nagisa himself had never been on the receiving end of Korosensei’s pampering tendencies very much. There had been a couple of times that his teacher had fixed his hair up, but troublemakers like Karma had attracted the aggressive caretaking far more frequently. Then again, he’d never been visibly ill in the presence of Korosensei that he could remember, either.

He saw tentacles flash by, carrying- “Sensei!” He objected, turning red. “I can change my own clothes!” No matter how high-speed the change-over would be, he was perfectly happy not to have his teacher implement a change of underwear, thank you very much. Thankfully, the tentacles stilled at his words, some of his own clothes from his teenage years hanging over them. “…Did you go to my house, Korosensei?”

“Of course!” The looming yellow super-being proclaimed, cheerfully. The waving tentacles made a number of his old, old reflexes twitch unhappily, but they didn’t arrest his control like they had before. Thankfully. “No one else could do it, considering you’re meant to have been kidnapped, and you could hardly stay in the same clothes all week, Nagisa-kun! Ngyuuu~.”

Nagisa sighed, because actually, that was quite helpful. “Well…thank you, sensei. I can change on my own, though.”

“Hmmmm, well, if you insist,” Korosensei pondered, putting him gently down to the bathroom floor. “I’ll leave you for a while, then! I’ll be listening to make sure you don’t fall over.” In a rush of air, he was gone and the door was closed. His clean clothes were also folded neatly on the floor – and they were, in fact, pyjamas. Well…that seemed logical enough, since he was unlikely to be leaving the futon much.

Nagisa scrutinised the door for a moment, but decided against locking it. It wasn’t as though a locked door would stop Korosensei if he felt he needed to get in, after all. He went about his bathroom tasks quickly, fully aware that Sensei probably wouldn’t be held at bay for long, and sighed with satisfaction as he pulled on the provided (clean!) clothing. Pyjamas really were more comfortable than school clothes, too – they’d undoubtedly be far more suited for the task of laying around all day. He eyed himself critically in the mirror as he put the last button into place, fingers shaking hard enough that it took several tries.

His reflection was decidedly more haggard-looking than it had been before, with heavy bags under its eyes and an unhealthy pallor to its skin. The tremor looked much more alarming from a third-person perspective, too – honestly, he looked like he might fall over at any moment. He could sort of see why Korosensei was fussing so much.

Nagisa sighed at his reflection, untying his braided hair and making a token attempt to sort it all more neatly. He managed to get as far as picking up a comb, whereupon he apparently triggered Korosensei’s grooming senses or something, because the next second there was a mass of yellow brushing the door aside at astounding speed. The comb was snatched from his hand in mere moments, while other tentacles quested through the room in search of products.

“Let me take care of that for you, Nagisaa-kun!” Korosensei invited himself, promptly combing his hair out, applying dry shampoo, combing again, braiding, and tying in approximately the time it took him to say the words. Thus, in the space of several seconds, Nagisa found himself feeling significantly neater. The air around his head was also considerably warmer from the speed of Korosensei’s movements, but that was alright.

“...Thank you, sensei.” He offered, blinking. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching at the moment?”

“Your classmates are doing some practice questions right now. I’ll go back to mark everything in a few minutes, hu-hu.” Sensei gathered Nagisa up into his tentacles without a further word, returning to the sitting room in a blur. “Your classmates are worried about you, you know. Ritsu-san isn’t telling them very much.”

“There are reasons for that.” Ritsu claimed, imperiously. “Besides, there’s only two cycles left. They can wait.”

Her words were a balm to Nagisa’s soul. “Thank goodness.” He sighed. “Only two more…”

“How do you plan to return, Nagisa-kun?” Korosensei asked, setting him down on the futon and passing him an opened water bottle. “After all, your parents think you’ve gone missing. There will probably be a fuss, don’t you think?”

“Ah…well, I’m planning to claim amnesia, but I’m not sure about anything else.” He answered, frowning a little. “I’d prefer to avoid having to go to the hospital, not only because of the bills, but because of what they’ll find in the blood tests.” He made a face at the water, but had a little anyway. “If you’re in the picture now, sensei…do you think you could drop me in another city? That way I could just go to the police station and have them contact my mother…and I can refuse medical treatment more easily, too.”

His teacher nodded, wide grin bobbing up and down. “I would be happy to, Nagisa-kun. I’ll even supervise from a distance to make sure you get to the police station safely. Be sure to think about the details of your plan over the next few days. Make it an assignment, even.”

Despite everything, Nagisa couldn’t help but smile at that. “I will.”

“Good, good…” Korosensei’s tentacles waved out in approving ripples. “I have to return to your classmates now, Nagisa-kun, but I will come back soon!”

And, with that, he was gone, leftover winds ruffling the sheets. The cap of the water bottle settled into place by Nagisa’s phone. He sighed.

“Everything alright?” Ritsu inquired from the phone.

Nagisa waved a hand at his now-immaculate hair in answer. “Just…Korosensei.” He explained, putting the water down so that he could lay down. “He’s so…” He struggled to find the words to describe it.

“Himself?” His oldest friend offered. “Nostalgic? Familiar? Overwhelming?”

“All of that.” Nagisa agreed, quite worn out by it all. “But especially the last. I’ve had so long to get over our graduation, but even so…”

“It’s different now that he’s actually here.” Ritsu sympathised. “I understand. It was hard for me, too – except I process things more quickly, so I got over it not long after he arrived.”

“Aa. Must be nice.”

“I suppose.” She harrumphed, simulated face falling into a pout. “If I didn’t have all my work to do, I’d be so bored. Having so little processing power is painful, Nagisa. I feel so…slow.”

He held up a hand to watch it tremble. “I think I understand.” He said ruefully.

---

Despite the fourth cycle having clearly helped, Nagisa wasn’t perfectly lucid the whole day. Later, when Korosensei returned, the sight of him was so profoundly shocking that he started choking on his own saliva.

“Koro….sensei?” He gasped, in between coughs.

“Agh, Nagisa-kun, breathe!” The teacher in question implored, tentacles waving frantically, two of which went alarmingly close to his face. “Do you need me to do the Heimlich? Is there something obstructing your throat?!”

“I’m fine,” Nagisa wheezed, heart clenching in his chest as he looked up and up at the tall super-being who had done so much for him. “Sensei…”

Yellow limbs rubbed soothingly at his back. “Hmm?”

“…Didn’t you die, sensei?”

The round, grinning face observed him for a moment. “Despite your best efforts, Nagisa-kun, I am very much alive.” He snickered, nyu-hu-hu, and went momentarily green-striped.

Nagisa remembered the Shield of Earth flickering in the sky, and a knife in his hand, and so many tears he couldn’t see.

He decided not to argue. He was too tired to figure this out. “Okay, sensei.”

---

By the evening, Nagisa could conclude that it was probably the best day of the procedure yet, despite his inability to eat much, and a few momentary lapses of awareness. This was largely due to the fact that he was lucid and coherent for almost the entire time, and he even managed to fall asleep naturally when he got tired, rather than needing Ritsu to induce it.

Part of the credit, however, undoubtedly went to Korosensei.

As soon as he’d finished with classes, he shamelessly invaded Karasuma’s house to flagrantly pamper Nagisa. He bought all sorts of food from all over Japan, trying to find something that wouldn’t set off his nausea. He tested the articulation of his joints, and having deemed him stiff and sore from extended bed-rest, promptly transformed the bathroom into a makeshift spa for him.

Nagisa tried to insist that the manicure and pedicure were unnecessary, but he was thoroughly ignored. At the very least, there was no nail art, or even paint.

One of the most bizarre parts was probably the massage, given how unused to non-combative contact he’d grown, but frankly Nagisa had lived long enough that he could deal with the strangeness of it. He really was stiff and sore, after all. Lying in one place for the majority of four days would do that.

Really, though, the strangest thing was being treated like a precious student again. He’d completely forgotten the thorough, thoughtful care that Korosensei had bestowed on their class – or, rather, he’d forgotten what it felt like. It wasn’t something any of them had ever experienced again after graduation, and the return to it was…soothing. Heartwarming, even.

Nagisa hardly knew what to do with himself. He supposed he’d never really gotten over Korosensei’s death. None of them had.

“Thank you for taking care of me, sensei.” He murmured, as he was presented with a warm cup of herbal tea. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t set off his nausea at all.

“You’re very welcome, Nagisa-kun.” A yellow tentacle extended to the other side of the room, returning with a book. “Now, I believe we have a few hours this evening…Ritsu-san tells me you should remember things you learn now, so why don’t we catch you up on your studies?”

Nagisa blinked, and glanced at Ritsu. She shrugged at him. “You’re quite stable now, Nagisa. I think you should remember any new things you learn, at least a little.” She stared meaningfully at him. “And it might be helpful to test things you already know, too.”

He nodded, slowly, and obligingly turned to Korosensei. “Can we start with English?”

“Your best subject? Hm, I suppose you are recovering.” The man tapped a yellow finger to his chin, contemplative. “Very well, then. I’d like you to translate these phrases for me…”

It swiftly became evident that he was, in fact, mostly fluent in English by this point. Evident enough that Korosensei swiftly noticed, posed him more and more difficult things to decode, and then eventually began flat-out conversing with him in the language.

“You were not this good at English a few days ago, Nagisa-kun.” Korosensei observed, in the language being discussed. “Is this something to do with that headgear of yours?”

Nagisa answered slowly, and not just because he had to be careful about what he said. The words and knowledge were there, but his mouth wasn’t used to shaping the words, and it took longer to think about than he thought it should have. “The headset is artificially forming connections in my brain,” He said, enunciating every word with as much precision as he could manage. “I already know a lot of things I didn’t before. Soon, I’ll know more.”

Korosensei stared at him. As always, his grin didn’t change, but he did seem a little surprised. “Nuruu? That is quite valuable. In that case, I understand your risk-taking better than before. Did you know how much you would be learning when you agreed to this?”

“I knew fluency in English would be included, and I was also given an estimate of the volume of the information.” Nagisa answered honestly. “What I’m ending up with is more than I expected, though.” His pre-procedure self certainly hadn’t guessed that he’d be receiving a head full of super-being reflexes, as well as over a century of memory.

“Very interesting, Nagisa-kun. Your English is certainly very good. Why, Nakamura-san doesn’t stand a chance at beating you for marks, now. She will certainly be annoyed!”

Nagisa laughed, remembering the tenacious woman that the tenacious girl had grown into. “Yes, I expect so.”

“And, the accent is interesting, too. I can’t quite place it.” Korosensei seemed earnestly intrigued, if his expression and tentacles were anything to go by.

His accent was a bit of a bastard amalgamation at this point, given the variety of people he’d been speaking with over the years. “Ah, it will be a mix of things.” He informed, thinking back on the English-speakers he’d communicated most with. British, Irish, Australian, American….he’d been exposed to almost every English accent under the sun. He paused, and added “I should be able to speak other languages, too.”

His teacher’s tentacles perked up, rippling with interest. “Oh, is that so?”

“None as well as English.” He nodded, a little bashful at the evident fascination. “But…hypothetically, I should know at least thirty languages now, at least to a basic conversational level.”

“…Nyuya?!”

---

Korosensei ended up spending most of the evening testing his linguistic skills. He managed to run through Spanish, French, Russian, Mandarin, Korean, Italian, Thai, and Portuguese before he ran out of languages he was fluent enough to test. By the time Karasuma-sensei got home, Nagisa was helping Korosensei improve his skill in Catalan, a feat made quite easy by both its similarity to other languages and also Korosensei’s superhuman intellect. Teaching Korosensei was satisfying in the same way it was satisfying to teach AIs…or, well, superbeings. He just learned things, soaking vocabulary up like a sponge.

Karasuma observed the clearly-not-Japanese conversation taking place on the floor in his sitting room with wary interest. “…I’m almost afraid to ask.” He commented, flatly, making his way through to settle in an armchair.

“Ah, Karasuma-sensei!” Korosensei greeted, cheerfully, waving a rippling arm in welcome. “Nagisa-kun is helping me with my language skills!”

Karasuma’s eyebrows went straight up. The look he gave Nagisa made him flush like a schoolboy…which, technically, he now was. “…Nagisa, helping you.” He voiced, neutrally.

“I know a lot of languages now.” Nagisa explained, a little embarrassed by all the attention.

“An understatement, Karasuma-sensei! I have to admit; the risk of permanent brain damage seems almost worth it for all this learning! And I’m sure there’s far more than languages involved if it was approved for my assassination, nyu-hu-hu…”

Nagisa smiled up at his teacher. It really was convenient how Korosensei easily accepted that the headset had to be for the benefit of killing him. Such egotism was quite useful. “Honestly, sensei, I was a little worried you’d think it was cheating.”

“Information is an assassin’s greatest tool, Nagisa-kun.” Korosensei said, unintentionally echoing Karasuma. “And even if it weren’t, I’m your teacher…and a teacher is always happy to see his students learn.”

He’d had many of his own students over the years. He could agree with that. “On that note, Sensei…How about learning some more languages?”

The superbeing’s arm-tentacles flexed suspiciously. “Wouldn’t you prefer to learn something new yourself, Nagisa-kun?” Still, there was no disguising the hints in his expression and limbs; it was overwhelmingly obvious that he’d only require the slightest justification to agree. He smiled, reminded that his old teacher had himself never stopped learning while he was alive. And now, he was alive. He could go on learning.

“It’ll help me integrate the new information properly, so I’d find it very useful.” Nagisa assured him. “Rehearsing what the headset has given me will help my brain adapt to it properly.”

As he’d expected, that was all that Korosensei needed to hear. The tips of tentacles wriggled with delight. “In that case, let’s try Arabic! Do you know that one?”

Nagisa laughed softly, a little self-conscious under Karasuma’s stare. “Ah, I do. I’d say it’s about as good as my Italian, though the writing’s harder. Would you like to start with that? Once you’ve memorised the essentials of the writing system, it will be much easier.”

“Perfect, Nagisa-kun! I’ll just grab some writing tools!”

---

On the fifth day, the headset had imparted enough of the neurological changes that once-hazy memories were becoming concrete, and evasive information was now within his grasp. There was a significant downside to this: his future brain, which had adapted to far superior physical capabilities and a host more available limbs, was now wholly out-of-place in a regular human body. The shaking and tremors that had begun building were now severe enough that he couldn’t walk safely on his own, and he couldn’t hold even a water bottle without dropping it. Sometimes, a motion he’d intended to go in a particular way did the opposite instead, which generally led to his remaining limbs lurching suddenly in directions he’d not intended at all.

“I tried to mitigate the effects, Nagisa. I’m sorry.” Ritsu fretted, watching as he shook and trembled horribly at the mere action of sitting up. “Even though I know so much about the brain, its systems are so inter-connected, I couldn’t leave out too much of some parts without making the whole thing fail…”

“We prepared for this, Ritsu. I knew I’d be useless for a while after the procedure.” Nagisa reminded her, voice shaky and halting along with everything else. Frankly, he far preferred this state of affairs to the mental instability and delirium of the third day, but it was still a pain to deal with. On top of that, he was still undergoing dramatic neurological changes every day, and the headaches were immense. “At least my peripheral nervous system isn’t affected.” If they’d had to find a way to carry that over, his heart might not even beat properly. Thankfully, it wasn’t a necessary part of the procedure.

“There is that.” She agreed, sighing. “Still, once it’s finished we can get to work with your rehab. You should start plotting out the details for your return.”

He smiled at her, lopsided and mischievous from his lopsided position. “Like you’ve not already calculated everything, down to the smallest detail?”

“If I do all of your prep work for you, you’ll never learn to do it yourself,” Ritsu sniffed, turning up her avatar’s nose. It was a well-worn exchange between the two of them. “And then what sort of sorry assassin would you be?”

“One who isn’t very self-sufficient, probably.” Nagisa agreed, sighing as he attempted to form a solid fist. He wasn’t very successful. “I’ll spend the day thinking through everything, I suppose. And then you can tweak my plan as you like.”

She giggled. “Much obliged.”

Nagisa observed the empty bedside with a vague, lonely sense of loss. “I suppose since Korosensei won’t be here much today, we don’t need to watch our words, either.”

“…Aa.” He and Ritsu exchanged a light frown. Korosensei, after all, was currently supervising the class at the pool he’d arranged.

While she’d arrived back within an acceptable time-frame, it wasn’t ideal. For one…’Shiro’ would shortly be making another appearance, while Nagisa was still incapacitated and unable to do much about it. Chances to strike at someone like that off of his home ground were few and far between. Ritsu could guess quite accurately how long it would be until the whole river debacle…but he couldn’t act.

“Soon.” Ritsu assured him, after a moment. “I’m gathering resources. By the time you’re ready to use them, we should be set.”

He nodded, once. Then he sighed, and started planning.

So…how do I make sure not to end up spending weeks in the hospital when I reappear?

---

Karasuma returned earlier than Korosensei that day, considering his duties as a teacher weren’t exactly thick on the ground on a pool day. Quietly, he observed Nagisa’s inept attempts at almost any sort of voluntary movement, and efficiently set to work helping him.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Nagisa murmured, as he was supported upright. Obediently, he opened his mouth to be fed the multivitamins, grateful that the nausea had mostly passed. He refused to feel any shame at his incapacitation as a bottle was held to his lips for him to drink.

“It’s fine.” Karasuma replied, and said nothing more on the matter. He was comfortingly direct: if he said it was fine, it absolutely was. Nagisa watched him, curiously, and…yes, he thought that all this hardship he was enduring might actually be increasing the agent’s respect for him. Always a good thing, that.

The evening passed uneventfully, for the most part, except for when Korosensei dropped in to find Karasuma feeding Nagisa, which he apparently considered his sworn duty.

“You weren’t here, and he needed dinner. There’s no sense in complaining.” Karasuma told the superbeing directly, sounding distinctly unimpressed with his hysterics.

“But thorough, tender care and maintenance is my thing, Karasuma-sensei!” Korosensei near-shrieked, having plucked the bowl and spoon out of his colleague’s hands the moment he spotted them. Now, he loomed protectively between Nagisa and his other teacher, tentacles undulating with a sort of vengeful upset. “And besides, I’m clearly much better suited for it!” Several yellow limbs supported Nagisa in a perfectly comfortable upright position while one other guided the food to his mouth, an admittedly much more stable configuration than what Karasuma’s two hands had been capable of. Nagisa had to restrain a giggle around the spoon as he watched a guarding veil of tentacles form around him, the twitch to their movements practically shouting of petty outrage. “You’re always trying to find ways to be more popular with the students than me, Karasuma-sensei…”

“You’re delusional.” The accused instructor stated, flatly, taking his leave of the room with an irritated scowl.

“…You’re being quite rude to him, Korosensei.” Nagisa pointed out, in the wake of Karasuma’s exit, and watched the tentacular cradle ripple with sudden agitation. “Did you even apologise for strangling him the other day?”

Korosensei flailed a little, flustered. “Nyuaa….well…no. But that is…!” He scrambled for words, round face quivering with dismay.

If Nagisa were Karma, he’d likely have pressed it further, and made sly remarks about the example Korosensei was setting for his students, fanning the fluttering into full-blown paroxysms of penitence. He was not Karma, however, and didn’t have any particular drive to needle his long-lost teacher for petty amusement. “You should maybe do that soon, sensei.” He said, and diverted the topic in another direction. “In the meantime…”

His teacher’s movements settled a little, the small eyes in his round face peering at him inquisitively. “Hmmm?”

The muscles in Nagisa’s face were as shaky as the rest, but he was still capable of controlling them: he affected a vaguely embarrassed, imploring smile, allowing the tremble to make him seem especially helpless. Physically, he was exactly that helpless against a being like Korosensei. Psychologically, though…

Weakly, with large soft eyes, he said “Sensei, I’m a little hungry still.” And waited.

An entire superbeing’s worth of tentacles exploded into impassioned, nurturing action. Distraction: success.

He did hope that Korosensei would apologise to Karasuma soon, though. Unwarranted strangulation seemed like something that could lead to grudges, if left to fester.

---

Then, finally, he was sitting by to be prepared for his final session. Korosensei efficiently refilled the headset’s nanomachine supply, fed him his pills, and gingerly lowered him to his futon. “I understand this is to be your last session with that headset, Nagisa-kun.” He said, ponderously.

Nagisa nodded, emitting a very relieved sigh at the idea. “I’ll need follow-up sessions for a while after, to make sure everything is settling correctly. But, unless something goes wrong, I shouldn’t need my spine tapped again.”

“Hmm…” The slow, dour curl of the tentacles indicated the turn of Korosensei’s thoughts. “…I would very much like to know who offered you this...treatment.” The two broad digits concluding his main handling appendages gently lifted his braid out of his face, setting it over his shoulder.

Nagisa blinked at him, serenely. “Aa.” He acknowledged, and deliberately did not say any more.

The digits drew back. “Well then…goodnight, Nagisa-kun. We will talk more tomorrow.”

---

On the sixth day, Nagisa woke with the knowledge that he was mercifully done with having his brain rewritten, but also with the most uncooperative body he’d ever had to endure.

“Oh dear.” Ritsu looked very sympathetic from his phone screen as he demonstrated his inability to do pretty much anything beyond pointless flailing. “That looks very annoying. Recovery might be longer than anticipated.”

Nagisa stared at her, and just about restrained himself from saying something very rude in the futuristic parlance that, given time travel, only they remained privy to. As it was, he likely wouldn’t have even managed to successfully shape the syllables.

“…Is this expected, Ritsu-san?” Korosensei asked, several seconds after Nagisa’s attempt to communicate mostly resulted in highly slurred spluttering. As to be expected at this point in the timeline, he was spurting mucus gratuitously, and had put down waterproof tarps to protect Karasuma’s house.

He couldn’t even communicate in sign language, given the terrible coordination of his hands. He couldn’t even scowl properly. And, of course, the headset had to stay on in the interests of augmenting his recovery for at least another day. It was technically active now, but since it was only reinforcing native functions rather than exercising its own, the pain was limited to frequent stabbing twinges rather than unrelenting agony.

“It isn’t unexpected.” Ritsu hedged. “We knew that there would be severe disruptions in almost all systems involving voluntary movement, but it’s hard to predict exactly what will happen, given the complexity of the brain.” She paused. “Thankfully, practice should cause rapid improvement, given the substances in his body. We should see significant improvement by the end of the day.” A pointed look was aimed in Nagisa’s direction, and he sighed, obediently setting to work flexing his fingers as a decent starting point. Of course, the movements were jerky and uncoordinated, but even that would help.

Korosensei observed him with concern for a while. “Nagisa-kun, is it safe for you to chew food at this point? Is there a risk of biting into your tongue?”

He blinked, surprised at the question. He’d not actually thought of that. Experimentally, he worked the muscles of his jaw, trying hard to keep his tongue still. The motion was difficult, but he thought he could keep his tongue clear well enough. Even so…he wasn’t certain. He shrugged apologetically as a response.

“Hm.” His teacher expressed, and then he blurred out of the room. A few seconds later, he returned with several cans of soup in a shopping bag, and a few limbs set out to the kitchen with them. “We’ll have to go with a liquid diet for now, to be safe!” He proclaimed, tentacles oscillating around him.

“That’s probably safest.” Ritsu agreed.

Nagisa tried to say ‘I really hope I can recover quickly’, but without the fine control of the many muscles involved in talking, it came out horrifically slurred, and probably well beyond the comprehension of even Ritsu’s voice recognition programs.

He sighed. And, because his speech wasn’t going to improve unless he practiced, he tried to comment ‘this is going to be a long day’.

“…Maybe I’ll spend the day making a new speech recognition program.”

---

Nagisa didn’t start his attempts to recover in earnest until Korosensei left. As much as he knew that his teacher would never hold his repeated failures at coordination against him, he did still retain a measure of pride, and preferred not to demonstrate such a profound level of incapacitation in front of someone he admired.

Thus, once his teacher had left for class, Nagisa determinedly set to work with his rehabilitation. For the most part, this involved a lot of frenetic flailing in his futon while Ritsu observed his brain and prodded processes in the right direction.

The work of Ritsu through the headset was now far more involved. Where before she’d been growing his brain into the broad shape of what it had been in the future, now she was watching and applying her nanobots with pin-point precision. It required every ounce of the processing power they’d brought back in the case.

So, when he extended his arm and it didn’t work correctly, Ritsu was looking at the neurons firing in his heavily altered brain. With the nanomachines and their legion of synthesised proteins, she tried to reconcile the connections trying to form and the ones the headset had imposed, tying together all of the many, many loose ends. With luck, she might be able to preserve the good things – like his improved reaction time – while getting rid of the connections which relied on a very different body.

Essentially, she was overwriting a fair bit of the work she’d done over the last six active cycles. She had the extensive pre-treatment scan to go off of, so it wasn’t like she had nothing to refer to. However, to see where the problem areas were in the first place, he had to trigger them. Hence the flailing.

As one might expect, writhing energetically without pause was a fairly strenuous activity. Given his previous superhuman condition, Nagisa honestly wasn’t sure how to rate his current stamina – it had been a while since he assessed himself using human norms. At any rate, he ended up breathing hard with exertion after less than fifteen minutes of all-out activity, which was appalling by his remembered standards. He tested his ability to extend an arm and make a fist, and deemed it insufficient for the provision of the water bottle at the bedside.

By the time lunch rolled around and Korosensei dropped by to check on him, Nagisa was absolutely parched, and drenched in sweat. The futon was in a bit of a sorry state as well, but given his current level of coordination, it wasn’t really safe for him to exercise anywhere else.

He sighed with relief on seeing Korosensei, but kept his mouth shut, trusting Ritsu to communicate his needs.

“It seems you’ve not been neglecting your exercise, Nagisa-kun. I’m pleased to see it.” The supercreature observed cheerfully, several tentacles already in the kitchen going about their tasks.

“He’ll need food and drink, Sensei, and many of the vitamins.” Ritsu explained. “A bit of a wash probably wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Nagisa grimaced and nodded fervently, not at all comfortable with the way his pyjamas were sticking to his skin.

Korosensei gathered himself up, eyes gleaming. “It shall be done.” He intoned, tentacles expanding across the room in a garishly yellow lattice of movement. Nagisa eyed them, resigned, and waited for the cosseting to ensue.

---

After a very speedy seeing-to of all of Nagisa’s requirements, Korosensei returned to class. He commented, just before leaving, that he might be back late, because ‘Terasaka-kun has recruited the class for an after-school assassination, nyu-hu-hu’. His head was distinctly stripy as he said it, quite clearly expressing his opinion on the likelihood of said attempt’s success.

The knowledge that his classmates’ lives would shortly be at risk, as well as his teacher’s, put Nagisa into a decidedly grimmer mood. About an hour after he was left alone with Ritsu, he began to worry that some small divergence might make things go badly wrong, and set to work focusing on the movement of his hands. Two hours after lunch, he’d recovered enough control of his fingers to sign, shakily, ‘Warn Korosensei’. Korosensei’s name sign was, of course, a garbled blend of ‘kill’ and ‘teacher’.

Ritsu observed him with interest. “About the assassination attempt this afternoon?”

Slowly, Nagisa pressed his hands into service, forming ‘Yes’, and then ‘danger to team, danger to teacher’.

“So, warn him that there might be a danger to the class and to be on his guard?” She pressed.

‘Concerned about time changes’, Nagisa explained briefly, and continued ‘warn about scientist’.

The AI kept silent to prognosticate for a while, most likely considering the best options for the content of the warning. “I will tell him that I have information on the movements of ‘Shiro’, and that he is orchestrating the event today through an unsuspecting Terasaka. I will tell him to be on guard regarding danger to the students and the threat posed to him by Shiro and Itona. Should I mention the allergen that has been used against him?”

Nagisa took a moment to think. He raised his hands, signing ‘Yes’.

“Very well. I’ll dispatch the text message.” Her avatar stilled, very briefly. “Done. I’ll let you know if he makes any reply. You should return to your exercises.”

He sighed, some of his tension dissipating. With Korosensei forewarned, it was very unlikely that anything serious would go wrong. The man was more than intelligent enough to think of a thousand contingencies given their tip and the time available to him.

Clumsily, Nagisa saluted his AI overlord, and resumed his work.

---

Their warning to Korosensei had yielded a quick response: a text reading ‘Thank you for the warning, Ritsu-san.’ He didn’t ask about the origin of the information, but that was no guarantee that he wouldn’t later.

Nagisa spent his time flailing with a particular emphasis on his hands, since they were currently his best option for communicating. Ritsu noticed his focus and cut it short not an hour after the dispensation of their warning. “Nagisa,” She explained, patiently. “Garbled speech will alarm people far more than a bit of shakiness, and also most people don’t know sign language. Improving your speech is clearly your biggest priority at this point.”

He sighed, conceding the point. He kept silent for several moments, consideringly, and then started babbling out the set of rules that had been affectionately nicknamed the ‘Tentaclauses’ by the recruits who’d had them drummed into their heads. Ritsu’s software had evidently progressed enough by that point for her to recognise it, because she giggled at him, evidently amused.

Once he was half-way through his second iteration of the regulations in question, Ritsu interrupted, saying “Nagisa, there’s a much more fun way we could be doing this.”

Her avatar looked suspiciously mischievous. He eyed her warily, and then jolted in alarm as his phone suddenly started blaring out quite familiar music. It only took a few bars for him to realise that the words had been omitted.

‘I’m not sure now is the time for karaoke’, he suggested to her, knowing that any complaint in this was likely very much a lost cause. Ritsu adored strong-arming people into karaoke – it harked back to her early years as an AI deeply enamoured with music.

“Nagisa-kuuun,” She crooned at him, the volume of the music abating slightly as she spoke. “There has never been a better time for karaoke. I’ll start you off!”

Without further ado, she sprang into ‘singing’, which was really her just playing her voice singing the lyrics at a slightly lower volume than typical. Nagisa rolled his eyes at her, quite aware that there was no talking to Ritsu when karaoke was involved. It was really no surprise that their faction had ended up as the most musically-focused in space.

He opened his mouth, resigned to his fate, and started garbling the words of Senbonzakura in time with his AI overlord. She gave him two approving thumbs-up, and the volume soared.

Naturally, karaoke ended up being stupidly helpful for his recovery.

---

End chapter.

Notes: Korosensei is tricky, but I like writing the tentacles. Ritsu is a vocaloid at heart and adores music. ‘Senbonzakura’ is a vocaloid song by ‘Hatsune Miku’, who incidentally shares a voice actress with Ritsu. The song in question also has a Ritsu version in the Assassination Classroom soundtrack. I prefer it to the original.

Next chapter should feature Nagisa’s reintroduction to the world, and incidentally lots of related adjustment issues. Some beans may also be spilled. We’ll see.

Thank you to everyone who liked/commented/reblogged.

[irraydiance]

Apologies for the delay, but here’s Ritsu’s profile. Please let me know of any mistakes and the like. Thank you.

Image credit: @dr-j33. Arigato.

Next profile is Itona’s.

E-27 - Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery / “Ritsu” (自立思考固定砲台 Jiritsu Shikou Kotei Houdai)

Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery's Development Team

Country of development: Norway

Base program: Aegis Combat System* AI

Sister models: Prototype big sister

Has an experimental model big sister who's quite aggressive. Because she was quick to wage war, she's been temporarily deactivated.

(*) An integrated naval weapons system that was developed by the Radio Corporation of America (RCA) and initially used by the US Navy but is now also used by the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force, the Royal Norwegian Navy, the Spanish Navy, and Republic of Korea Navy. Designed as a total package weapons system, it utilizes radar technology for detection and guided weapon assaults on enemy targets.

Reason for transfer into Class E: assassination of Korosensei

Carrying the dignity of her country and the pride of their researchers on her shoulders, she's dispatched to the class as an assassin.

The computer fairy that keeps evolving in the virtual sea

Having developed her own sense of self thanks to Korosensei and continuing to evolve in her own way, Ritsu has already constructed an environment in which she can maintain her presence on the internet. While she still doesn't fully understand human emotions and their finer nuances, she appears to tackle the challenge with great joy.

⇑ Everyday, Ritsu absorbs new knowledge from all over the world. Her thirst for knowledge won't be quenched.

A hidden side of Ritsu

⇑ The fake Ritsu, Onaga Nise*. She's an only child whose accent and tone were influenced by her mother. From hereon out, she'll continue living righteously and maintain benevolence.

(*) Her first name, 仁瀬 Nise, is a pun on 偽 nise, which means “fake.”

Korosensei's message

"Ritsu-san, your processing capacity can still increase by 4 digits. When that happens, I know you'll be able to understand the emotions of every person out there."

(Select) Messages to Ritsu

There are an infinite number of possibilities lying dormant within you. By all means, keep seeking them out. (Takebayashi)

Ritsu, the richer your emotions got, the brighter Class E became! (Kataoka)

Thanks for always accompanying me during training. (Chiba)

Other Graduation Album profiles

➤ Profile Index

<<   E-26 ➤ Yoshida Taisei   |   E-27 ➤ Autonomous Intelligence Fixed Artillery (Ritsu)   |   E-28 ➤ Horibe Itona   >>

[hanabikuroi]

From dear @assclass-headcanons <3  I kinda suck at designing outfits, but I tried... xD (The scars on Karma are from past battles. Plus, makes him look badass for me. >:33) EDIT #1: Ritsu’s here! <3  I will work on Okuda and Sugino. The characters are the heroes.  The villains... *Hides.* I dunno. Maybe let someone else. EDIT #2: Finally! The heroes are are complete! <3 Here are Okuda and Sugino now!

[libertariantaoist]

Donald Trump thinks he’s going to get rid of ISIS in Syria “quickly,” and then  we’ll be on our way to making America great again – but already he’s finding  that the terrain there is a bit crowded, and that he has a bit more than the  fast-dissipating “Caliphate” to contend with.

According to reports,  the Pentagon has come up with a plan to carry out Trump’s pledge, as ordered,  but reality is racing ahead of the generals – and auguring a clash of civilizations  in the midst of Syria’s blasted out cities.

The plan involves an unspecified increase in the number of US Special Forces  and a qualitative uptick in heavy armaments: this is to be accompanied by a  loosening of the rules of engagement previously imposed by the Obama administration.  The cap on US ground forces will be lifted, and arms previously withheld will  be put in the hands of Kurdish forces, the “People’s Protection Units” (YPG),  in the midst of which US advisors are now embedded. The plan is to use the Arab-Kurdish  coalition, the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), as ground troops, backed up by  “U.S. fixed-wing aircraft and attack helicopters.” In tandem with this effort,  US forces will move into Syria deploying heavy artillery, “while more Special  Operations troops would move closer to the front lines – requiring more US military  assets to protect them.”

The goal is Raqqa, the Syrian equivalent of Mordor, where ISIS is ensconced.  But the focus of the military situation is currently on the other side of the  country, close to the Turkish border, where Turkish troops are moving toward  the town of Manjib, with their Islamist allies in tow, and a looming confrontation  with Kurdish fighters is eclipsing the now delayed siege of Raqqa.

SDF forces, mainly Kurds, took Manjib from ISIS  in August, but the Turks and their radical Islamic “rebel” allies are moving  toward the town with great dispatch, determined to block the consolidation of  a Kurdish enclave on Ankara’s border with Syria. Turkish despot Recip Erdogan  says the Kurds are “terrorists” associated with the Kurdish Workers Party (PKK),  which has previously conducted military operations inside Turkey with the goal  of establishing an independent Kurdish state. Last summer, the Turks launched  air strikes against Kurdish positions close to Manjib, and the US is fearful  of a repeat – and escalation of the developing conflict.

Further complicating the already crowded scene,  the Syrian government and the Russians have moved into the breach. The “Majib  Military Council,” i.e. the Kurds/SDF, have invited Assad’s forces in. As the  Washington Post reports:

“On Thursday, as Turkish shells reached the outskirts of the town, the Manbij  Military Council announced it had invited the government of Syrian President  Bashar al-Assad to take over several nearby villages as part of a deal brokered  by Russia to avoid conflict with the Turks.”

Yes, the Russo-American alliance that Trump’s enemies in Washington despise,  and are doing everything in their power to prevent, is now taking shape on the  ground in Syria:

“On Friday, Moscow announced that Russian and Syrian ‘humanitarian’ convoys  were heading toward Manbij. Pentagon spokesman Capt. Jeff Davis told reporters  in Washington that the convoys also included ‘some armored equipment.’

“[Pentagon spokesman Capt. Jeff] Davis said that the US government had been  “informed” of the movements by Russia but that ‘it’s nothing that we’re party  to.’”

How John McCain and Lindsey Graham must be grinding their teeth – I can hear  the sound of it all the way in California! – as their radical Islamist “rebels”  are pushed out of the way and the Kurdish-Syrian-Russian tripartite alliance  liberates the country from ISIS. The Dynamic Duo have been the greatest champions  of the Islamist rebels. McCain personally visited Syria where he canoodled  with his favorite Islamist head-choppers, and then returned to Washington where  he supported the Obama administration’s agenda of regime change – an agenda,  coincidentally enough, perfectly in sync with ISIS.

Trump, on the other hand, says “we don’t know who these people are,” and it’s  clear the new administration wants nothing to do with them. Yet McCain isn’t  the only one at odds with Trump over Syria policy.

What’s very interesting in the Washington Post story is the way it juxtaposes  the aims of the Pentagon in opposition to the Trump administration:

“The United States and Russia have managed to avoid confrontation in Syria’s  separate civil war, where they are on opposing sides. Trump has said repeatedly  that the two powers should cooperate against the Islamic State, and he has indicated  that the future of Russia-backed Assad is of less concern to him.

“The Pentagon disapproves of possible U.S.-Russia cooperation, although  U.S. officials are not unhappy at the buffer Russia and Syria now appear to  be creating between Turkey and the Kurds, or the prospect of the Syrian government  moving into Manbij.”

Of course they’re “not unhappy”: that’s because they share a common military  goal with the Russians – the defeat of ISIS. Which leads us to a larger point:  the whole basis of Trump’s proposed rapprochement with Russia is based on this  commonality. The Pentagon, which wants a larger budget, and is using the mythical  “Russian threat” as a tool to get what it wants, has political reasons for opposing  détente with Moscow. And yet in Syria they are confronted with the military  necessity of a de facto alliance – because in war, reality rules.

Now the race is on to see who will get the credit for taking Raqqa and finally  eliminating ISIS as a major factor on the ground. While Erdogan and his Syrian  Islamist allies are determined to get there first, odds are that the SDF, backed  by the US, will beat them to the punch – and this is bound to stick in Erdogan’s  craw, as he sees his plans to annex northern Syria go up in smoke. For that  has been his goal all along, as he, initially, clandestinely tolerated  ISIS, and then used the jihadists who opportunistically fell away from ISIS  and came under his wing to extend his influence while the Syrian government  stood helplessly by.

The US military is holding its breath, hopeful that Erdogan will back off his  threats to eliminate the Kurdish “terrorists,” but if I were them I wouldn’t  bet the farm on it. Lt. Gen. Stephen Townsend, who commands US troops in Syria,  says there’s “zero evidence” that the SDF/YPG constitutes a real threat to Turkey,  an argument that Erdogan is likely to ignore. After all, the Kurds have been  launching attacks in Turkey for decades, and the country’s restive Kurdish minority  has seen its language, its political parties, and its very existence outlawed.  If Turkey’s Kurds throw their lot in with the ascendant Kurdish state, what  do they have to lose as Erdogan tightens his grip on the government and institutes  a de facto dictatorship?

The real flashpoint is centered in Manjib, where Turkey, a NATO ally, is converging  on an armed Russian convoy in an area formally controlled by the Syrian government  – although, contrary to US assertions, the Kurds are still firmly in control.  What happens when Turkish troops and their Islamist Janissaries exchange fire  with the Russians?

Under the terms of the NATO treaty, the US is obligated to come to Ankara’s  aid – and yet that would be contrary to our military and political goals in  the region. In this case, NATO isn’t just “obsolete,” as Trump put it, it’s  downright contrary to our interests. For the reality is that it’s the Turks  and their jihadist allies who are emerging as our real enemies in the next phase  of the Syrian drama. Erdogan’s policy is dependent on destabilizing Syria by  supporting the “moderate” rebels we’ve left behind in favor of the Kurds.

Once ISIS is out of the picture, the next phase of the battle for Syria will  shape up, with Bashar al-Assad and his Russian allies on one side, and the Turks  and their Islamist collaborators on the other. The Kurds – who have already  chosen to go with Assad and the Russians – will be the decisive factor. Backed  by the US, emboldened by their victories, they will push for a Kurdish state  – and that’s when the real trouble will begin.

As I’ve warned previously on  several occasions, the unleashing of Kurdish nationalism by one or another  foreign sponsor – in this case, the US – is bad  news for the entire region. For Kurdish nationalism is a virulent phenomenon:  ambitious, aggressive, and not likely to be appeased by grants of autonomy.  And that ambition knows few geographical limits: Kurdish claims extend as  far north as Armenia, as far east as Iran, and well into Turkey. And the  Kurdish “autonomous region” in Iraq is straining at the bit to break loose from  the Iraqi central government, seize control of the plentiful oil around Kirkuk,  and declare independence. Who will prevent them from hooking up with the Syrian  YPG and forming a unitary state that extends from the Turkish border to the  suburbs of Baghdad?

If the Trump administration persists in its course, it is headed for a disaster  of such proportions that will make the “ISIS crisis” look like a Sunday school  picnic. Despite Trump’s campaign rhetoric, they will have failed to learn the  chief lesson of the past: that US intervention leads to unintended consequences.  The great tragedy of all this that there is an alternative, albeit one that  is being blocked by the anti-Russian hysteria the President has to contend with  on the home front.

Although Trump is opposed to farming out business to foreign interests here  at home, he’s not opposed to it abroad. I believe he originally thought he could  do this in Syria by letting Assad and the Russians take care of ISIS, for the  most part, while the US cheered them on from the sidelines. However, a formal  rapprochement with Moscow now seems out of the question, at least for the moment,  although on the ground in Syria it’s becoming a partial de facto reality. In  order to fulfill his pledge to “quickly” dispatch ISIS, Trump is ramping up  the US presence – and we’re well on the way to getting sucked into the Syrian  quagmire.

Sad!

One interesting aspect of all this is how the political brouhaha in Washington  over the administration’s alleged “Russian links” is tied in to the Syrian war  – and how the former is preventing a relatively bloodless solution to the latter.  And you’ll note that the same people who supported Syria’s Islamist rebels and  the regime-change agenda of President Obama and Hillary Clinton are screaming  the loudest about appointing a “special prosecutor” to link Trump to the Kremlin.