Assassination classroom one shots

Stabbed

3rd pov

Everyone in the class knows that Karma gets into fights outside of school and outside of the class. They know that it's mostly to keep himself safe, since he has a reputation for fighting and others started to pick fights against him. They tend to aim for a take down now a days, trying to knock him out in order to ransom his parents or anyone willing to pay money. None had ever actually managed to get enough of a drop on Karma to take him down for long enough to maybe take him out.

Korosensei honestly worries almost constantly, debating whether he should step in or not. His student is violent, but the next best thing is knowing when the back down from a fight. He does not know when would be best to interfere, or if he should just stay out of it like normal.  Karasuma has decided to not do anything, the target will or Karma will figure it out on his own. Irina could care less - literally, why does she care so much? - about what Karma does, as long as he does not bring it to the class.

Unfortunately, that is exactly what happens. Since their classroom is an assassination one, they are fully prepped for anything and everything that could possibly happen when/if something goes wrong, because they are fully prepared for that. The best way to prevent something is not to do it, but the next best thing, since they're not going to stop trying to assassinate Korosensei, is to be as prepared as possible.

They have stuff for sewing, sutures, cleaning, burns, breathing, choking, broken bones, and a number of things that could happen. They never aim to hurt each other and to get injured, but they are a) going to school on a mountain, b) still teenagers, even if most of them are relatively calm and c) they enjoy each other's presence, finding a comfort in being friends with other people who are just like them in a way. They enjoy being a class, and they have a feeling that they will remain in contact for years to come, even after graduating and getting jobs.

Korosensei can rush someone to the hospital with Karasuma if it's necessary or life threatening, though the punishment for the perpetrator for harming one of his students so grievously is not pretty and the entire Ministry of Defense can not entirely blame them, since most have kids or young kids they are fond of, and they would probably do worst if it was their kid being attacked. 

 It had been a normal day for Karma, wake up early, shove some of his stuff into his backpack - make sure the homework is there - and lock the door behind him, heading for the train station. The ride doesn't take very long, but it's still crowded and everything, so he's uncomfortable. He's almost at the school when a hand yanks him into a nearby alleyway, the tight grip over his mouth harsh enough to leave bruises. Another hand tears his bag away, while a leg takes out his knee, forcing him to both in sheer weight alone. 

He can't see his attackers, but the weight and slight glimpse of height he'd seen would suggest high schoolers or a gang, though he hasn't done anything in a while to either, so there's no reason they have to ambush him on his way to school. He's planning on attending today, come on. More weight is forced onto his shoulders, grinding his skin into the ground through his clothes, but the hand covering his face still muffles his grunt. Then, there's a feeling he's kind of familiar with, a fiery cold sinking into his gut and he bites his lip, almost hard enough to bleed but keeping it hidden.

The weight vanishes and he catches a glimpse of them fleeing, but he has a far higher priority right now, what with the things he'd been threatened with the last time he came in beat up from a fight, that his friends and the teachers had told him. The stuff they'd muttered to each other, offering to do to the people who had managed to get in hits, has him grinning weakly in amusement, knowing what these guys have just brought on themselves. 

With an almost high pitched whine, Karma pushes himself to his knees, trying not to worsen the bleeding or move the knife. He moves further, standing up on legs that wobble, the world moving under his feet, and he sets a hand on the alley wall, using it to keep himself on his feet. He moans and leans over to collect his bag, knowing he's going to need the stuff in there at some point. He reaches back, and yanks the knife out, before hurrying to wrap some gauze over it. He yanks his shirt up and wraps the gauze half-assed - that's only because the world is getting blurry and moving a lot - before fixing his clothes and starting off as if nothing had happened. He knows he's a lot later then he meant, but the class won't.