39. Languages.

There are plants on the counter.

It's daybreak, and Nao had to get to school.

These flowers were probably meant for him, from Ms Sakurai-- so he picked up the little bouquet, just a little more than a flower, vines, and grainy shrubs-- and he inspected them as he left, whispering a word of 'I'll be off' to no one.

He is the son of a florist, after all. He can identify quite a few by heart, after being here his whole life. Now, what could his often non-verbal mother want to tell him?

A zephyr flower, sweet basil, and... moss. Iceland moss.

In sickness and in health, I offer my blessings.

"Isn't this basically a 'Have a safe trip'?" he chuckled. And well, in a more literal sense, maybe this means Ms Sakurai was anxious about his condition, too.

Nao's used to it, though. It doesn't quite feel real when someone tells you 'you don't have long to live' when most of your days are deceptively calm. 

(When he gets a break next time, he should take Ms Sakurai out for a meal. As a family, just to do something nice for her.)

He sighs, taking in a cold breath. The sun was rising quickly, and this was later than Nao was comfortable setting out. He's going to be late again.

(Well, that's fine.)

(A couple late days for Class E is no problem.)

"I guess I should pay a visit to Doctor Matsukawa sometimes," he sighed. Even if they've already deemed him hopeless and are no longer looking for a cure or a checkup, a chat over tea for their old friendship wouldn't hurt.

He looked over his bouquet again.

(Come to think of it, Flower Language is linguistics too, huh.)

(Adding one more to the lists of languages he's fluent in.)

"I wonder if the Board Chairman would look at me weird if I start texting him in Flower Language," he muttered. "Ah... but it's not a one-dimensional language, so maybe he won't be able to understand."

(I could teach him, he thinks, and then laughs at the incredulity.)

He passed by a van, a young man setting up a stall of fresh flowers in bundles. His hat was set low on his head, but when Nao crossed his path, he looked up.

Nao's eyes were drawn to him as well.

The Second Reaper stared back at him, his light hair, pale skin, and innocent demeanor-- just as Nao remembered.

And Nao's blood immediately goes cold.

There's a muted, uncomfortable moment. It's recognition in those eyes-- just a flash-- but Nao knows surprise when he sees it. It's gone in an instant, never noticed if he didn't look for it-- but Nao's reaction is worse. Much, more obvious.

He'd instinctively stopped in his tracks to look, lips parting in bewilderment. He quickly recomposed himself, but there's no way he can dismiss that acknowledgement now. He'd be too suspicious.

This is a terrible situation.

"Ah... those flowers," the words leave Nao's lips with a slightly lopsided smile, "the orchids. They're beautiful. I haven't seen them so gorgeous before."

(No! Don't change the subject! Are you an idiot?!)

The Reaper simply smiled back, much more brightly than Nao's-- "a fan of flowers, I see," he mused. "I've raised these myself. Would you like one for the road?"

(Who asks for flowers for the road? But then again...)

(He'll kill me if I say no, right?)

Nao took an elegant bouquet of three white orchids, and he wondered if this is supposed to be the hallmark of his very eventual funeral.

"They're very well-cared for," Nao said, surmising the rest of the flowers. He wasn't lying when he said they were beautiful-- orchids like these usually had to be ordered, after all-- they were hard to grow and bloomed for a limited time.

This man might be a murderer-- but as a fellow flower enthusiast, Nao had to give him the recognition for it, at least. It's evident that this wasn't just a mandatory skill-- this man had a clear passion for the flowers, and it shines a whole step ahead of everything else.

"Someone whose hands are gentle enough to raise such beautiful flowers can't possibly be a bad person," he whispered to himself, not intending for it to be heard at all.

(But from the way the Reaper seems to still for a moment, he definitely did.)

Fearful of any future questioning, Nao quickly excused himself. "I'll be late for work! If you'll excuse me, then."

Nao recognized the Reaper from his past knowledge.

But then-- what did the Reaper see in Nao?

-

Nao was arranging the flowers by the window when he heard the boys kicking up a fuss in the next room.

They were all throwing things at Isogai, calling him names, and overall being totally wholesome idiots trying to tease the modesty out of their frustratingly humble class president.

"Oh! Kuma-sensei, hear this!" Kimura notices him first, "Isogai got caught in his part time work!"

"And now Asano-kun is blackmailing him!"

"And now he's willing to get expelled to save our reputation or some shit tell him he's an absolute moron please!"

Huh. "Oh, that's terrible," Nao deadpanned.

He didn't even look up from his flowers, simply leaning in to inspect a crumpled lead before shuffling them around again to hide it.

Immediately, all of them, as if that proved their point, whirled back onto Isogai, "see?! We all agree you're not cool for wanting to take the blame!" for some reason, "Asano's the arse here!"

"No, he definitely didn't say that," Isogai muttered.

Dramatic gasping, "you've been corrupted! You're now doubting the words of our high and holy Teddy Daddy?!"

Isogai seemed to be the only sane one around, Maehara leading the insanity charge as the boys in class fussed over him for no reason other than dramatics, "I'm not doubting his words, I'm just questioning the lack thereof--"

"Get the priest! The priest!"

"It's the ahoge! He's catching vibes from the main campus with it!"

Even Nagisa seemed to hold out his phone when Okajima exuberantly pleaded for means of communication. Karma was leading the theatrical proclamations in the corner. Even the more logical ones, like Chiba, were just amusedly watching it all happen without extending any offer of help to their poor Class President.

"Quit it, you guys! Take this seriously!" Isogai snapped.

Everyone fell silent at that. It was true-- this was, after all, a little more than an E-class discrimination in play. This was Isogai breaking the school rules, which was a valid reason to be worried.

If it was a normal student, they could be convinced to turn a blind eye somehow. Asano and the virtuosos were just petty-- and Isogai was just unlucky. That was it.

Finally, Terasaka slams the windows open, and with a big wide grin, he shouts to the world, "Isogai just told us to be serious! He's officially lost it!"

And so the madness started all over again.

"When did lunacy become our default?!" Isogai's desperate whining fell on deaf ears.

Seriously, Nao found himself watching the horrific playout that seemed to have been abruptly dropped from another dimension because eit didn't make any sense at all, what in the everloving hell is going on here.

But man, this was amusing.

"Now, kids. If you have time to shout around here, how about you guys get started on making plans for your pole-toppling competition?" Nao said, despite knowing full well none of them have enlightened him on the stakes just yet. "As your teacher, I suggest implementing the free-running practice Karasuma-san has been teaching you guys into your strategies."

"Ooh! He's right!" Karma lifts his head from the dogpile they'd buried Isogai into.

"If we're talking guerilla warfare--"

"We are not, but carry on."

"--then we could ask Kanzaki-san and Hayami-san for tips. They're good at shooting games, right? Practical applications of landscape and dirty tactics."

"This is hardly anything of that scale, but okay, as long as someone dumbs it down for Terasaka it should work."

"Excuse me?!"

"Nagisa-kun, go get the negative squad and assemble the worst case scenarios," Karma called out with a laugh, resisting Isogai's attempt to break his arm. "Won't put it past the principal to not get some extra endorsements for his son!"

"Information is power!" some obscure voice agreed.

"Okay, let's go, Kuma-sensei," Nagisa took Nao by the arm.

"Wait, I'm part of the negative recon squad?" Nao asked, flabbergasted, "hey, I'm tired already..."

-

The late-night convention of Kurahashi (miss infiltrator), Fuwa (detective wannabe), Hayama (negative queen), Nagisa (bookkeeper extraordinaire), Takebayashi (analyst), and Itona (warfare expert) was rather amusing.

They argued about what could happen, taking context clues from the day and trying to come up with the most ridiculous dirty tricks the Asanos could pull out of their asses this time.

"I'm saying, he could definitely rig the field with mines just on our side, okay?"

"Fuwa, have you been watching Inazuma Eleven again?"

"Or sabotage our shoes or our food and make us unable to show up on the day of."

"Don't worry guys, there's a chance a meteorite will strike the field the second the whistle blows, so we might not need some complicated warfare or anything. I call this the Rats! It's our Unsolicited trip to the Netherworld! Or Plan R-U-N for short!"

"You made that up to come up with an acronym, Fuwa-san, and unfortunately the acronym does NOT make sense!"

Nao enjoyed his peppermint coffee, watching them interact with all the vigor of students debating over vacation choices. It was endearing.

He thought of the flower message from Ms Sakurai this morning-- then of the flowers he received from the pseudo-Reaper.

He wondered if there was a flower for this feeling, too. This peaceful sense of elation, so sweet and addictive. It was something everyone knew to be fleeting, and yet, at this moment-- Nao couldn't really care less.

(There's nothing wrong about living pleasantly in the moment, forgetting everything.)

Life was made to be enjoyed short and sweet, after all.

"Don't you agree, Kuma-sensei?"

"Ah," Nao chuckled, "I wasn't listening, but I'm sure you're right, Kurahashi-san."

"See, he agrees with me!"

"No no, that's too convoluted even for the Board Chairman! He would definitely just go the easy way. Don't forget his wallet is depthless, money is the least of his inconveniences! I'm saying, he'll definitely use it somehow!"

"Isn't that too mafia-bossey even for him?!"

"Are we thinking of the same person? Of course he's mafia-bossey!"

"As an educator, I find your liberal usage of the prudently-created word, 'mafia-bossey', rather unpleasant."

"Agh, he's going to turn this into a class! Nagisa! Stuff a marshmallow in his mouth!"

-

Nao wasn't too enthusiastic about the heat, but he sure as hell was the loudest E-class supporter at the teachers' stands when the sports festival came around.

(Openly, at least. No one can beat the proud dad in Korosensei. The octopus would definitely be screeching in clones of dozens if he weren't a state secret.)

It only made everything funnier when the E-class boys won.

-

"You lost-- but you're complacent."

Nao stopped, right before the door.

"Shouldn't the defeat be driving you mad inside?"

Taking a breath to brace himself-- Nao knocked on the door. He could see, from the shadows behind the tinted glass, that the two figures had frozen up.

"Board Chairman Asano, it is Kunomasu," he introduced himself. Then, quietly slotting in a farce of calm on his face, "is now a good time?"

And then, Nao does the unthinkable.

He doesn't wait for an answer.

Opening the door, he's faced with the mildly surprised expressions of two Asanos-- one bewildered, one horrified-- Nao simply adorns a mildly startled look.

"Oh, Asano-kun. Good evening," he greeted.

Then, completely unfazed, Nao turned to the four bulky transfer students, sprawled out and curled into uncompromising positions, streaks of blood brushed across their faces onto the floors in what were probably trajectories of damage.

Loose shoes, weak whimpers-- and shaking limbs, too agonized to move.

Calmly, Nao observed the situation.

"Oh, they look really hurt!" he said shocked, turning to Gakushuu before setting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Asano-kun, could you go call the first-aid team? They haven't left the sports field yet."

Gakushuu needed a moment to register it.

"Oh-- uh," a nervous glance at his father, then he shrank further behind Nao. "I'll go do that. Right now. Yeah."

And then he ran away, evidently spooked but not at all compromising a rare situation to get out of his father's range.

Though the younger Asano quickly left the field of range, Board Chairman Asano's haunting-- furious glare did not leave Nao for even a second. Nao waved until Gakushuu was out of sight-- and then came to face the most petrifying sight he'd ever had the horror of being exposed to.

In the dim lighting of the room-- Asano's fury came with a distinctively shadowed look, and an uncomfortably looming shadow.

It was like staring down into the jaws of a wolf, when its claws were already around his neck and its fangs already framing his face.

There was nothing but a hollow, depthless end where those eyes lay-- and Nao felt weak in the knees. His smile inevitably faltered.

"You're grown braver these days, Kuma-sensei." For some reason, Asano's returning smile only made the pit in his stomach sink more painfully.

That was a threat, layered deeply with years of constrained bloodlust, and if this had been anyone else that was talking-- Nao might already be dead.

It was fortunate that Asano had the impulse for necessary violence, but never for murder. He had his morals as a civilian, at least.

(Don't be mad, Nao pleaded but never vocally, knowing that was the dumbest thing you could say to someone that was angry.)

But Asano will not kill Nao, nor will he beat him up.

Nao will also not be afraid of anything any less than real death.

So, they're at a stalemate.

He fidgeted, and held his hands behind him, forcing out a polite smile borne more out of resigned embarrassment than anything else. Seriously, what was he expecting here-- to magically be able to stop Asano's murderous onslaught early?

Finally, Nao chuckles. "Should we talk, or something?" he suggests.

Asano's response is surprisingly curt. It seems his irritation would not be curbed by an angel's smile, not so easily. "Your voice infuriates me right now."

Nao nods.

"Then, I'll just listen," he signs out, a cheeky smile growing on his face. He makes his way to the couches, setting a hand on the backrest, "sit with me? We can have some coffee or tea, whichever feels more appropriate."

Asano moves-- but instead of delivering Nao a much-needed slap to the face, he simply cleans his hands on a handkerchief and turns the coffee machine on.

And that's how their evening was spent.

Coffee between them, harsh words going on one end with never a vocal response from the other. The medic team comes in to help the transfer students at some point, but neither party ever acknowledges them.

Asano does little more than reiterate his educational policies or brag about his rather terrifying achievements-- he does get very colourful about his grievances about Korosensei and how that messed everything up as well.

How could he just throw a wrench like that into his plans that have worked for ages? People don't take well to abrupt changes, of a large scale, and he acknowledged he was the same. He was just unwilling to reverse his years of effort.

Was he scared of what might happen again? Nao asks. Without even flinching, Asano denies it once, then swiftly changes the subject.

(Well.)

(It's not bad progress for counselling session #1, was it?)

Nao always learned languages quickly.

So now, he found himself wondering how long it would take before he could properly decipher the enigmatic language that was 'Asano Gakuho'.

(He hoped he could master it soon.)