1. Cliche

1. Cliche

"So you're telling me," his voice was utterly exasperated, "you found a goddamn guy so you're just gonna goddamn leave."

His older sister cackled at the choice of wording, rounding a muffler loosely around her neck.

All Naomasa could even remember about her was her hair-- wavy, long to her shoulders-- and in that peculiar, peculiar shade of brown that was the colour of sand. The colour of his own hair, and a colour his parents didn't have.

"Sorry, Nao," the girl patted her younger brother on the head with naught a sense of affection in her touch, "I love him, I really do. But he's..." she hesitated, a secret she failed to let in on, "not a normal person, you see. And I decided that if it was for him, I'd even throw away my own birth papers."

Kazumasa, her absolutely unidentical twin (who in fact had black hair,) scoffed. He had been standing there since who-knows-when, so it was hard to acknowledge the girl was gonna elope if everyone saw her off on the way.

"Say hi to Mr Boyfriend for me," Kazumasa groaned, leaning against the wall in a show of resigned arrogance, "tell him he's getting dissected next time I meet him."

"You guys never stop fighting, huh?" 

Nao felt his sister's hand leave him-- and solemnly, he knew that would be the last of her.

"Goodbye, Nao," she told him meaningfully, "and goodbye, Kazumasa."

"Yeah," Kazumasa spoke the words Nao could not voice out, "Goodbye, Kazane."

To Nao, this was only the beginning of it. Two years later, Kazumasa would leave too-- before scurrying back at the knowing of his younger brother suffering a heart failure and landing himself in the hospital.

Perhaps, Nao came to think his heart defect-- a hole in the heart that unfortunately didn't stay closed-- was a blessing. It called his family back to his side when he needed him. It also told him just how little Nao meant to them-- Kazane never returned, and Kazumasa never stayed long.

The Kunomasu family was one that functioned without adult parents. Naomasa was fully ten years younger than his older siblings, so he was only a teen when the older siblings left their nest, following their parents' footsteps, leaving the youngest home alone to fend for himself. 

Money was sent home each month, and even if Kazumasa were to visit, he wouldn't stay longer than a week before rushing back out to his work-related business.

Nao lived with a friendly florist as his guardian for the majority of his life. His life was sustained with sufficient living expenses and his surrogate mother cared for him like he was her own.

Right- enough of that-- I was going somewhere with this story. I had a point going in some direction, but I've honestly forgotten it now. Will I go back up and retype everything again? No, I will not. Why? 

Simply due to the fact that the point I'm trying to make is literally this-- his life is a fuckin' compilation of cheesy cliches piled up together to form the ultimate magical sandwich of tragic backstories.  

Y'know what was worse?

He knew his life was just a fucking compilation of cliches.

And how did he know?

Yeah, you've read the summary. You know. He died and he reincarnated, boo-hoo, now he knows he's lived an entire life before, and now he's in a new world where he has to try and live normally.

Tragic, isn't he?

And he bloody hated it, most especially the fact that his first name is completely ripped off from some side character from another anime.

He grew up to become a teacher of a school, and that is where this story begins.

ー

ー

"Hey, fork over the cash already, ya wimp!"

The younger student whimpered, shoved down by his larger-sized peer. His bag was snatched, its contents were dumped and one slim wallet was picked up, its cash emptied and pocketed.

I could not have walked in on anything more cliche, could I?

Nao groaned, stepping off the path and swinging into the goddamn alley for a detour he didn't wanna take. He crunched a lollipop in his mouth, and clutched a bookbag under his arm. His brown hair was brushed, gelled back in a farce of professionalism, but the man himself was anything but.

His clothes were crumpled, not ironed, and he wore no tie for a casual suit. His sleeves were already rolled up at the start of the day; he had on no socks, and a silver piercing shone on his left ear.

"Hey, kids," he greeted them casually, "seems like you're having fun."

Someone swore, shooting back at the sight of the intruder. Another cursed the bullied boy for dallying, and someone was probably running. Following suit with strange shrieks of a bear monster, the bullies frantically tossed the stolen cash back in the direction of the victim, then scurried away like rodents.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say anything yet," Nao hollered, but the last of them had left only dust in their wake. He sighed, exasperated-- "goodness, don't bully if you're gonna scramble at the sight of me, weaklings!"

Rolling a colourful candy under his tongue, Nao crouched down and bunched up the discarded school material, trying to fit them back into the bag it came from.

"Here," he shoved it towards the boy, "the entrance ceremony begins in thirty minutes, so do make sure you come on time."

"Ah--" the boy seemed to have been stuck in a trance-- "uh, thanks, Kuma-sensei."

Kunomasu Naomasa, lovingly referred to as 'Kuma-sensei', is a certified Language Teacher in the well-renowned Kunugigaoka Junior High. He may lack the etiquette of an elite, but his tenure was perfectly on the level-- thus, not many had the opportunity of complaint toward his actions.

As long as he did his job, he was one of this school's many well-performing educating professionals.

"Good morning, Kuma-sensei!" someone-- a boy with dark brown hair, spiked downward strangely (or was it considered plain, knowing this was an anime world?), he was rushing on into the school, waving at the teacher briefly before he continued on his way.

"Morning, Isogai," Naomasa responded simply, barely sparing the boy a glance. His head was in the clouds, considering the classes and lessons he had to lead today-- hm, would he make it in time for his checkup at four? why the crap did he even need a--

Someone crashed into him, diving right into his back. 

Naomasa stumbled, but did not fall. Shiota Nagisa's face was buried in the teacher's back, having tripped over his feet in his hurry.

"Ah- Kuma-sensei, I'm sorry," Nagisa straightened himself an panic, bowing once in a mixture of a greeting and an apology, "please excuse me."

Naomasa sighed.

Lifting his head to the skies, he found the moon above him-- high in the faded sky, clear and visible without a cloud in the distance. A nearly perfect crescent shape was stamped cleanly into the blue-- it almost looked fake.

The uproar of the shattered moon struck the world a couple of weeks ago. The commotion had died down among the masses-- but simultaneously, the new school year began. 

Soon, the assassination classroom would come to be up on that mountain, and all this while, Naomasa would stay down here in the confinements of this warped elite school as one of its many personnel involved.

Knowing the ending, Naomasa thought he ought to go about looking for a new place to work.  But for the moment, Naomasa was going to stay down here and try to live his life.

And on all accounts, with all due respect, he is NOT going to get involved.

No, he is not.

His life is already filled with enough cliches as it is and he's dying the fuck out of himself just existing as an icon of angst potential! He is NOT going up there! Not at the cost of his goddamn life, even if he's held at gunpoint! 

Those were the words he furiously rambled the day before he was officially assigned to class 3-E; so I suspect he had triggered a flag in the most cliche way possible-- by jinxing it.