#there are more than a few explosions. sans is threatened with karaoke

[carlyraejepsans]

I'm never gonna finish this fic, sooooo

[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.