The news spread fast.
Everyone found out that a new instructor had arrived.
Everyone was crowding around, eager to learn about the new training instructor assigned to Class E. It wasn't every day that someone new stepped into their strange world. And when he did, it didn't take long for his personality to make an impact.
"Hey, everyone! I'll be working here to help out Karasuma," a man shouted from the doorway, his voice loud and confident. "My name's Takaoka Akira!"
He stood tall, with an imposing presence, and a grin that seemed to suggest he was ready to take charge.
"There's a bunch of cakes and drinks in here. Feel free to eat it up," he added, gesturing toward a table piled with snacks, his voice carrying an easy, almost too friendly tone.
The students looked at each other, hesitant at first. "Can we really?" one of them asked, eyeing the spread with a mix of excitement and suspicion.
Takaoka waved off their concerns. "Yeah, please don't think of it as some trap. I don't want to waste time getting along with you guys. Eat, enjoy, and let's move on with the training."
At first, it seemed like a good offer. Everyone gathered around, talking amongst themselves as they grabbed snacks and drinks, slowly starting to warm to Takaoka. It didn't take long for the students to start comparing him to Karasuma. His casual demeanor, his loud attitude—it was a stark contrast to Karasuma's no-nonsense, reserved personality.
Soon, Takaoka handed out the new training schedules to the students. His enthusiasm was hard to miss, though it quickly became clear that his version of training was going to be a lot more intense than what they were used to.
"Everyone! When I yell victory, you yell peace!" he shouted with infectious energy, his arms raised dramatically. The class, not yet used to his unrestrained approach, awkwardly repeated the chant after him.
Ryu's expression was unreadable. He already knew that Takaoka had an agenda beyond just training. While the other students were trying to adjust, Ryu stayed on alert, sensing something was off with the new instructor.
Sure enough, when the schedules were revealed, the students gasped in shock. The proposed training schedule was brutal—12 hours of training every single day.
"What the hell! This schedule is impossible!" one student protested. "And there's no time for us to have fun, either. No way we can do this!"
Takaoka, grinning, dismissed their concerns. "It's 'we will,' not 'we can't.' I told you, right? In our family, I am the father. Is there a single family in this world where the father's orders aren't absolute?"
At that, the students' unease turned to resentment.
"That bastard," Karasuma muttered under his breath, seeing the first injuries starting to accumulate from the intense training. He stormed over, his face hardening. "Anyone who wants to quit is free to do so. If you do, I'll replace you with a new student."
The situation escalated quickly.
Takaoka, always playing the role of the "father" of the class, approached Yukiko and gave her an overly firm pat on the head, his fingers lingering longer than necessary.
"Alright, you'll father your father, won't you?" Takaoka asked, his tone more of a command than a request.
Yukiko recoiled, disgusted by his words. "I don't want to! I'd rather have class with Karasuma-sensei!"
Just as Takaoka was about to strike Yukiko, Ryu stepped in, blocking the attack with swift precision. "You dare to disobey your father's orders?" Takaoka growled, his anger spiking.
Ryu stood tall, unwavering, as the other students looked on. The tension in the air was thick when suddenly, a voice cut through the scene.
"Stop, Takaoka."
It was Karasuma, stepping onto the scene, his eyes cold as he addressed Takaoka. "They're not your family. They're my students."
The students, seeing Karasuma's appearance, let out a collective sigh of relief. "Koro-sensei!" they all called out in unison, feeling the comfort of his presence once more.
Takaoka, however, didn't back down. "Is that a complaint I hear? The punishment just now was perfectly within the bounds of a training session. I need to raise assassins in a short time span."
"That's not how it works," Karasuma snapped. "You can't force them with violence and fear. These students deserve respect and proper guidance, not your twisted version of discipline."
As Karasuma's words echoed through the air, the students braced themselves for what would happen next.
Soon after, training began again, but this time it wasn't just about physical endurance. Takaoka had an idea—he was going to show Karasuma that his "methods" could work better.
"How about this," Takaoka said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "We can choose a student to attack me. We'll see who's better. If you think you're so good, Karasuma, then prove it."
The class exchanged glances, unsure of how this was going to play out.
"Why are you bringing out a real knife? They haven't been trained to kill a man!" Karasuma snapped, his voice suddenly tinged with real concern.
Ryu's eyes shifted, glancing at Nagisa. The shy, soft-spoken boy had shown incredible potential, though he had yet to fully harness his skills.
"Nagisa-kun, will you do it?" Karasuma asked, his voice calm yet firm. "I think of you all as professionals, and I believe what you are guaranteed is a normal life. I will ensure Takaoka maintains that compensation."
"I'll do it," Nagisa responded, his voice steady despite the pressure.
Takaoka grinned, confident that his experience and strength would easily overwhelm the student.
"Why did Ryu and Karasuma nominate Nagisa?" Irina asked, eyeing the situation with some confusion.
Koro-sensei floated in, adding, "Even I would choose Nagisa for this. It's not about size or strength; it's about precision."
Nagisa took a deep breath, calming his nerves. He could feel the weight of the knife in his hand, the cool steel sending a shiver through his fingers. This was his first time holding such a weapon, but he trusted Karasuma's training.
With Karasuma's whispered advice guiding him, Nagisa's movements became smooth and precise.
In the blink of an eye, Nagisa was on Takaoka.
Takaoka didn't even realize what happened until he felt the cold pressure of the knife against his throat. It was as if Nagisa had vanished, reappearing with a viper-like speed.
Ryu's lips curled into a smile. He had always known Nagisa had potential, but seeing it realized in such a raw moment filled him with pride.
Takaoka, who had been so sure of himself, froze in shock. He barely dodged, stumbling backward, but it was already too late.
Nagisa had him. "Gotcha."
If this had been a real fight, Takaoka would have been dead.
The classroom was silent for a moment, processing what had just happened. Then, the entire class erupted in surprise. Nagisa had defeated Takaoka—who had been so confident just moments ago.
The students surrounded Nagisa, their faces filled with admiration. "That was amazing, Nagisa!" one of them said. "You showed him!"
Takaoka, seething with humiliation, roared, "You little brats! You barely won over a fluke!"
Nagisa simply shrugged. "I may lose if we fought again, but Koro-sensei is our classroom teacher, and Karasuma is our training instructor. Nothing will change."
"We're grateful for you trying to make us stronger, but please leave," another student added, his voice firm.
Takaoka, furious beyond reason, gritted his teeth. "You think I'll listen?"
With that, Takaoka lunged forward, intending to attack. But Ryu was faster, cutting him off with a swift strike.
"I'll make sure to negotiate to be the training instructor again," Takaoka spat, though he was clearly too weak to pose a real threat now.
Just then, the principal arrived, witnessing the chaos.
"How pathetic," he said coldly. "Using fear with violence is less than third-rate. Once you use brute force, your lessons lose all merit. This is your notice of dismissal."
Takaoka's face twisted with rage as he was escorted out, screaming in frustration, a piece of paper stuffed in his mouth as a final sign of his disgrace.
Class E stood victorious once again, stronger than before, with their sense of unity intact.