Assassination: Sweet [Assassination Classroom x OHSHC]

Decision Time! (Dig your heels in.)

Nagisa frowned as his finger got caught in a knot in his hair, he hissed slightly. He grit his teeth, frustrated.

He had stopped here, at what he assumed to be a park, on the route back to his apartment, taking a short break as to try to relieve some of the panic buzzing through him (or the burning, festering self-hatred taking root in his chest.)

Trying to take his thoughts away from Ayanokoji, his mind flitted around what Renge had said about the Host Club. Eyes scanning the peaceful, fall weather in an attempt to get rid of his nerves. What if the Host Club did know about him... What could he do? What could he plan?

His mind had fallen short of any ideas, it had brought it's jaws down and clenched on this numb, useless type of panic. His thoughts were empty yet he was alert, awareness of everything in his peripheral demanding the utmost attention of his brain.

He fell back onto the park bench behind him, the ridges of it digging into his back. He sighed, he probably deserved the small discomfort the bench brought, murderer that he was. He shivered, goosebumps trailing across his skin, thoughts blooming of how it will be cold enough soon to see his own breath in the air. Winter would be here soon, the incoming cold wilting and browning leaves that beautifully hung over his head.

"It's a shame," Nagisa thought, looking at the trees around him.

They were pretty. He spent some time indulging in the view-- the way the leaves fell, the myriad of colors dancing across his vision. It was nice. It was nice to just take time and bask in the simplicity of everything-- to forget what he had done today, forget what he had to do.

It was nice to forget, to lose, his identity-- forget that he was an assassin, a murderer. In that moment, Nagisa Shiota was nothing but a human striped to his barest essentials-- just blood and bone and skin. (And his heart thrumming underneath it all.)

The trees were nice in the way that it made him forget, even for the slightest second.

But time is ceaseless-- time is cruel-- time is law, and moments are only that, moments. Only mere snippets of time.

Despite, knowing this-- despite knowing his efforts will be wasted-- Nagisa tried to grasp onto the moment a second longer. Wanting this freedom a second longer.

Wind screamed and howled, ripping and shredding leaves as tree limbs shook. Brittle leaves rendered to invisible pieces of particles.

The glass moment slipped through his fingers, breaking, and shards of memories pierce and cut and--

And.

He found his hands combing through his strands of hair again, hitting a snag, again. He pushed his finger through the persistent knot, again, hair finally giving way the pressure. "Focus, Nagisa...!"

He had come to this park with a purpose, but...

His hands shook a bit but not from cold. His nerves burned, and he trembled. He closed his hands into fists, appreciating the the feel of his fingernails biting into skin. He sighed, briefly. He was grounded again-- and the moment, the freedom of no thoughts gone.

Nagisa bit his lip. He didn't think he deserved any type of reprieve from what he had done.

Nagisa did not deserve anything. He was a murderer, after all (and he could never escape that, never run from that.)

The wind doesn't let up.

______

Haruhi ventured another glance at the space on the couch beside her-- she knew it would be empty, but she looked anyways. There was a nervous buzz around the Host Club-- each of them sitting in vaguely circular shape from chairs or stools pulled from various other spots around the music room.