COLLISION, assassination classroom

CHAPTER #011. ASSEMBLY TIME!

     It was when he reached a few blocks away from the school did Hajime finally give attention to the uncomfortable squeezing in his chest. A faint twinge that had the male clutching at his t-shirt, rubbing at his chest to try and soothe the odd ache that settled between his ribs. The meeting with Asano left him quiet. At the beginning of the school year, Hajime had assumed he would keep his position on the student council because he was the sole person fit for the job. Being fired, essentially, left a gaping hole that the brown haired male wasn't prepared for. The thought of having to give it up didn't even pass his mind. Passing by a reflective window, Hajime caught sight of himself and halted in his steps.

His eyes were rimmed with a soft redness, his lips unconsciously curled downward. Hajime slowly reached up to touch his face, fingertips brushing against the corner of his eye. When he pulled his hand back, there was a slight wetness. Hajime jerked his head up to stare at his reflection, teary-eyed, and the realization had his throat constricting.

The bitterness at giving away his title as vice president melted into. . . something. Hajime slipped into one of the nearby alleyways and slumped against the wall with his head tilted down. He was disappointed, of all things. With whom, Hajime didn't know. The things he worked so hard to maintain were slowly being taken from him. His place in the main building, his position as vice president, his solid reputation that Hajime worked meticulously on to the point of near perfection. As someone who easily obtained the things he wanted, it was strickening to know that he wasn't invincible as he perceived himself to be.

Hajime scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, the harsh friction jarring enough to snap him out of this odd, despondent mood. Getting worked up over losing some academic position was foolish. He shouldn't be crying over something like this, it was the least of his problems at the moment. Even so, the back of his eyes burned fiercely. There was a lump in his throat that Hajime didn't want to acknowledge.

He would not cry. Damn it.

The brown haired male reached into his pocket, fumbling with the contents inside before he pulled out two rectangular shaped objects. Hajime stared hard at the case and lighter. The fifteen year old started this bad habit of his at the beginning of his second year after eventually succumbing to the temptation of curiosity. A mixture of proximity and familiarity of being exposed to such sights had Hajime wanting to try it out for himself. The people who used them always looked so utterly contemplative of the world for a short moment. It looked musing, peaceful even. Hajime longed for that experience.

So when his pseudo-uncle was careless enough to leave behind a case of sticks within his reach, Hajime took the chance. It was easy to pocket one without anyone noticing. Being a role-model student and holding a healthy amount of respectful fear for his parents, Hajime didn't have many opportunities to indulge in this habit. Thus, he used it sparingly and carefully. To think that this bad habit he picked up as a curious pastime was the cause of his downfall.

Hajime pulled out a stick and sighed. "Maybe I'm a little dumb, after all. . ." The male said to himself and opened the lighter.

He watched as the end of the stick lit up, then placed the other end between his lips. It was familiar, the taste, the smell, and the hush that settled. The brown haired male stood, leaning against the alley wall for a long time until the stick burned out. He let it fall to the ground and stomped on it with his cherry red converses. There was a hint of guilt in him as he dusted off the front of his clothes and pants. Hajime broke the promise he made to his parents, but he lasted around four months, so hopefully they wouldn't be too mad. If Hajime had anything to do with it, they wouldn't have to find out about this at all.