It had been exactly ten years since the March class 3E of Kunugigaoka middle school graduated.
And the March they had killed the teacher who taught them.
Today was also the day of the long awaited reunion of class 3E. It was an irrefutable fact that the class had produced many capable individuals.
From the top tier actress, Kaede Kayano, to the professional baseball player, Sugino Tomohito.
Yet right now they could all let loose, basking in the memories of the year that had been a turning point for all of their lives.
They talked, drank, laughed. Remembered their moments together, made fun of Terasaka for being an idiot..and just the usual stuff.
Though time had passed they were all grateful. And even now they were a huge part of each other's life. Their paths may have separated at some point in time but they all still had one thing in common.
How they carried and promoted Koro-sensei's teaching in their own way. Yet even in this gathering two people were missing.
"Seriously!", Nakamura chugged another drink, even though she already seemed pretty drunk. "Karma that jerk! Couldn't he even have come here for a little while!?"
Kanzaki chuckled, taking the drink from Nakamura's hands, much to her dismay. "That's enough, Nakamura-san. I think you have had enough to drink for tonight."
That concern was not met favorably..drunk Nakamura could be surprisingly scary..doing things that would be better not to mention. For her own dignity.
"Come on, Nakamura! What did you expect! It's Karma we are talking about.", Terasaka said in that gung-ho tone of his that still hadn't disappeared despite a decade having passed.
"I am honestly surprised he even replied to the message to tell us he was busy.", Takebayashi stated, calm as ever, fixing his glasses.
"Yeah right. Screw karma!", Hinata added, also having had a bit too much to drink.
"The only one other than him who didn't come was..", Kayano didn't finish that sentence..no one else did either.
Silence spread through the room and none could bring themselves to talk for a while.
"I..still can't believe that happened..", Yukiko looked at the floor, trying to hold back tears. They all were. It had been years since then, yet the grief had not lessen..for anyone of them.
"I was there..I went to the same school as him..I was..but his side..yet I noticed nothing..nothing at all.", Sugino clenched his fists, gritted his teeth..anything to control that overwhelming guilt of not realizing the pain his closest friend was going through.
Nagisa Shiota. A calm yet loveable person. Quiet yet not unheard. "The true MVP of the assassination classroom" they would sometimes joke.
And he was, without any doubt, the best out of them when it came to killing people. He had proved it.
Nagisa Shiota's first kill, third year of middle school. He had been the one to kill the very sensei who taught him about life.
Nagisa Shiota's second kill. Third year of high school. He had killed himself.
....
The rumors in the underground clubs were growing louder. The fear growing stronger. The killings? More brutal. More precise.
Assassins had always been a common part of the lives of those who treaded on the dangerous, immoral panels of life.
They were privileged, authorized, yet not free of terror. But there was the relief of the fact that no assassin was perfect. None had been. Not since the number one assassin, "The Reaper" had disappeared.
Dead? Missing? They didn't know. But they rejoiced. After all no one could match his level of accuracy when it came to killing right?
But right now, the restlessness was increasing along with the tension between the gossip of the wealthy.
"They say that The Reaper has returned."
He hadn't.
"They say he never died in the first place."
He did.
"I bet he was just taking a break this entire time."
He wasn't.
"After all no one can kill like he does!"
They could.
No..He could.
Student of the very man who they called The Reaper. But he hadn't learnt the art of killing from his sensei. No. He had only ever learnt the art of living from the man.
Yet this was the path he had chosen.
Perhaps even assuming that he was a guy was an overstatement. Those killed by him could never tell whether he was a man or a woman.
All they knew was that the smile he had on his face as he killed them, was utterly beautiful. Unfortunately none of the people who saw him ever had the chance to relay this fact to the others.
And thus it was naturally assumed that the one behind those brutal murders was a man. More precisely, The Reaper himself.
...
Vienna: Blackline hideout:
"Aren't you doing great, Blue. Not a single drop of blood on you these days." Irina Jelavić said with a smirk, her voice still dipped in that signature sultry tone... though age had mellowed it into something warmer.
She was older now, more refined but no less dangerous. And still impossibly good at reading people.
At first, she had hated the thought of Nagisa becoming an assassin. The sweet, quiet boy with deadly potential choosing this life? It felt like a betrayal of everything Koro-sensei stood for.
But now...
Now, she'd grown used to it. Accepted it. Even if she never stopped worrying.
He didn't even go by Nagisa anymore. That name was long buried...along with his identity, his soft blue hair, his ties to Class 3-E.
All that remained was Blue.
And yet, even now, that eerie calm smile still lingered on his face... like it was stitched into his skin.
"You should be more worried about yourself, Bitch-sensei." he said, casually dropping into a chair. "I already surpassed your kill count at a much younger age."
Irina's eye twitched.
Nagisa... no, Blue had developed a habit of teasing her over the years, and now he finally understood why the rest of Class 3-E used to enjoy it so much.
He lived for that moment where she visibly held back the urge to throw something at him.
In this bloody new life where he'd let go of everything, she was the last thread that tied him to his past. And somewhere, deep down, he was the same for her.
"God, you used to be such a cute little thing to tease. Look at you now." She sighed, leaning against the table.
Despite everything, she still indulged him when he acted like a child. Maybe because she knew he wasn't one anymore.
He had killed more than just people. He had killed himself....his past, his friendships, his relationships. He had let the world believe Nagisa Shiota was dead.
And in many ways… he was.
In his place stood someone else. A man who moved like a ghost and smiled like a knife. A killer who never hesitated.
Irina reached forward and pinched his cheek, sharp enough to sting.
"You've got that look again," she said softly. "That faraway, haunted look. Like you've got the whole damn world on your shoulders."
He didn't reply. He just smiled. He always did, when she was right.
"Really.." she said with a sigh, resting her hand on his shoulder, just for a second. "You're such a worrisome student."