Chapter Text
Nagisa was proud of his job. Incredibly proud even.
Although, given what most of Class E had become, whether it be award-winning actors or Nobel Prize-winning physicists or absolutely loaded businessmen, Nagisa figured he was maybe overselling himself a bit. But if he shoved all his former classmates into a corner of his brain and told them to shut up about how successful they all were, Nagisa could announce truthfully to himself that he loved his job and was proud of it.
Besides, he was damn good at it. In just three years of work in the public-school sector, he had tamed class after class of rowdy students, been promoted to head of his department, and secured a place on the local educational council. In fact, just today he’d be voting for the first time on educational measures affecting the whole prefecture. Not too shabby in his opinion. Would traveling the world as an infamous assassin have been a slightly more glamorous career option? … Possibly.
Still, force-feeding teenagers an education required every ounce of concentration and wile that an assassination did. And it was far more respectable. Yes, it was undeniably a job to be proud of.
Nagisa nodded to his reflection in satisfaction, having reached the end of his daily self-doubting train of thought. He straightened his tie, cast one last glance at the mirror. “Shame you haven’t grown an inch in those three years,” a voice which sounded like a suspicious mix of Karma and Nakamura nagged. Nagisa tugged at his blue fringe of hair. It was getting long again. Forcing down a rush of bitterness, he grabbed his briefcase and hurried out of the room.
The council meeting wasn’t as grand as he’d imagined. No magnificent great hall, banquet seating or cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, no congratulations from wizened old higherups, none of the subtle nods and smiles Nagisa would have received had he chosen a different line of work. Just an auditorium, some folding chairs, and a few desks arranged into a makeshift conference table.
Despite the red name tag that had been thrust onto him at the entrance, Nagisa had to introduce and reintroduce himself to almost everyone he met. “Ah, Shiota, the newest addition,” they’d usually say. He’d still inevitably wince at the sound of his last name, and remind himself, for the sake of professionalism, not to beg them to call him Nagisa.
They’d continue: “You’re so young, and already a member? Impressive!” Hearing the same praise he had repeated to himself in his bedroom mirror, regurgitated over and over, made Nagisa want to curl up and scream. It made him realize just how hollow his attempts at convincing himself were.
As the council members all took their seats around the homemade conference table, Nagisa shook off his uncertainty, reminding himself to focus on the matter at hand. He had a seat at the table now, and with it an opportunity to drive real change in schools, to improve the lives of each of his students. This wasn’t about him, anymore.
A council member, probably the chair, called the meeting to order and began to go through each item of business. From then on, Nagisa felt himself becoming more and more lost, as he struggled to follow the structure of the group. He began jotting down questions to look over later: who had authority over what, how issues were settled… The chair went through dozens of topics, from arguments over the content of textbooks to the installation of a set of monkey bars; so many that Nagisa’s head began to blur and spin, in the same way it used to during the long, grueling assemblies of junior high.
“…and for our final item, we’ll be discussing the possibility of securing greater funding for our schools, through a petition to our representative Tatsuya Ueda.”
Nagisa perked up at that, practically buzzing with excitement at the thought of all the ways his school could use that extra little bit of funding. School trips, more athletic training, new textbooks… For Nagisa, the possibilities were endless. Still, he pitied the poor bastard who would have to argue their case to Ueda. The man was known for his bluster, and intransigence. More funding was an interesting concept, more exciting than monkey bars and petty squabbles anyway, but Nagisa could already tell it was an unattainable one.
“…and we’ll therefore have to elect a chosen member to present this petition to representative Ueda,” the meeting chair continued. “As in tradition, we will decide this matter with nominations by members, and then a general vote.” He shuffled his papers in front of him and seemed a bit bashful all of a sudden. Nagisa thought perhaps he could sense the crowd’s overall unwillingness to be chosen. He cleared his throat: “Now then, we will begin the nominations.” Silence. “Anyone?”
Eventually a few members piped up, some to break the awkward silence, others jokingly nominating colleagues just to see their groaning faces. Then a clear, high voice called out, “I nominate Nagisa Shiota!” Nagisa whipped around to locate the voice and saw that it belonged to a pretty raven-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar, one of the ones who had congratulated him before the meeting, he figured.
“Shiota might be new, but he’s sharp, and brings a new perspective I think we badly need. Putting him in charge of this will help him integrate well into council duties.” As the woman finished her nomination, Nagisa nodded over at her, trying hard to twist his stricken face into something resembling appreciation. She smiled broadly in return.
The meeting chair announced the general vote, and began to call out the nominations in turn. A small scattering of hands went up for each name. Nagisa put his hand up distractedly for a random candidate, half-praying he wouldn’t be chosen, but also strangely half-excited about the chance to attempt something like this. Finally, Nagisa’s name was called, and a little over half the members in the auditorium raised their hands. Well. That was that.
“Nagisa Shiota, you have been entrusted with the task of presenting our petition before representative Ueda and obtaining his approval of further funding for our district,” the chair said, seeming relieved somehow.
Nagisa stood and bowed: “I promise to do my best for the council.”
Having said his goodbyes and thank yous to person after nameless person, Nagisa left the council building. He set off for home, almost on autopilot, frowning at his feet…
Nagisa was torn—he felt honored to be trusted with something so important, to be personally responsible for securing more funding. At the same time, he couldn’t help wondering if he’d been handed an impossible task. The conservative trend in the nation’s education policy was well-known, and he had heard that representative Ueda’s views were no exception. Convincing Ueda to dramatically increase funding for local schools seemed just as unlikely as assassinating a certain unkillable teacher. Maybe this whole assignment was like a really convoluted form of hazing? Those council members had seemed all too eager to pin this job on him.
Nagisa shook himself, surprised at where his own thoughts had taken him. Since when had he been so negative, so quick to suspect things of people? Thinking back to junior high, he could have sworn he remembered a higher, kinder voice, an open face and easy smile.
Nagisa pushed his hair off his forehead with jerky hands. Maybe he’d just finally grown up.
As Nagisa turned into the narrow side street that led to his apartment, his phone buzzed and lit up with a message from Kaede Kayano. They’d kept in touch after junior high graduation, and Nagisa now considered her his closest friend. Despite her busy filming hours and constant trips overseas, she always checked on him, without fail. Nagisa thought that was admirable.
Kaede: so how’d the meeting go !!!
Nagisa paused in his step to type out an answer. Texting with Kaede was kind of like running a sprint–she was always incredibly quick. He didn’t particularly feel like explaining his new nomination, how conflicted he was about it, how shitty he’d felt earlier today–all of that was more of a phone call conversation. He settled for a simple reply.
Nagisa: It was fine.
Kaede: . . .
that bad??
hey guess who I saw shopping today, completely by coincidence !!
Nagisa laughed softly at Kaede’s immediate change of subject. It was a habit of hers, her way of comforting him when he obviously didn’t want to talk. He prepared to guess, maybe something along the lines of Okuda, or Nakamura–
Kaede: Karma! He was buying sake lmao
Nagisa: What did you guys talk about?
Nagisa typed furiously, got as far as “Please tell me you didn’t mention–“ before Kaede beat him to it.
Kaede: I mentioned you’d been doing well! Told him about what we’ve been up to
Nagisa: Kae we’ve talked about this >:(
Kaede: he asked about you, Nagisa. I just answered.
Nagisa: Yeah, and I won educator of the year.
Karma doesn’t exhibit concern for other human beings Kaede?? You know
how he isKaede: I only know what I heard ;)
Nagisa sighed and pocketed his phone. He stared down at his feet. Kaede had met Karma, then. That was surprising, but he supposed it had to happen at some point. And Karma had asked after him? He shook his head, incredulous. That was so unlike him, and yet so very like. All of a sudden, Nagisa started, realizing he’d stopped dead in the middle of the alley, and began to walk briskly home again, to shake off the strange disquiet that had come over him.
Immediately upon unlocking his apartment door, Nagisa brushed through his short hallway, past the cramped kitchen and half-living room half-bathroom, collapsing into the only empty corner of his bedroom. (Nagisa felt like he’d somehow gotten a reputation for being organized and proper, maybe because of his attentiveness to people. Those who really knew him were aware he was a bit of a slob, though, especially when stressed. Today, his room was strewn with formal clothes, files and papers.)
Nagisa’s fatigue suddenly felt apparent to him, with the hours of dull council meeting business and late-night essay corrections catching up to him. He could feel the blunt pain gathering in the back of his neck, and the growing tightness in his chest. The best thing to do would be to pass out, regardless of how early it was. Instead, Nagisa found himself thinking back to his texts with Kaede. Sharp annoyance sparked in his chest as he remembered Karma asking after him. If it were any other old school friend, he wouldn’t be bothered, but he and Karma had fallen out of contact about four and a half years ago, soon after their separate high school graduations. Gradually visits and calls and texts had become few and far between, and before they knew it they’d slipped into a mutual estrangement. At least Nagisa thought it was mutual. As much as he prided himself on his ability to read people, he’d never quite known what was going through Karma’s head.
So that left the two of them as former classmates. A long way from the best friends and rivals who spent most waking moments together. But Nagisa figured it was an inevitable change: The combination of Karma’s apathetic nature and Nagisa’s own avoidant one made communication … difficult. Nonexistent, really. And so, the thought of Karma casually asking Kaede what he was up to? — like some easy small talk — made Nagisa angry.
Yes, he decided, anger was the only way to describe it.