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President Poverty.
They laugh because they think it’s a joke. They laugh because they’ve never known what it’s like to struggle, to claw yourself to do a job you don’t want to do, to push past your threshold of exhaustion until you’re burnt away, reduced to nothing.
His classmates come from families with big bank accounts to fall on, a safety net that’ll never disappear. If they slip up here, there’s always another private school willing to take them in, always ready to accept a fat check, always able to find a spot that seemingly never existed before.
Isogai doesn’t have such a luxury, never has and he likely never will. He’s used to wrinkled uniforms that don’t fit right, a perfected script of what to say and when to say it, accidentally scalding himself with boiling water, sore wrists after carrying trays for so long, burst tea bags, his cheeks hurting from his perpetual smile. It’s that hardship that’s moulded him into the person he is today. He can lead but not because he wants to, but because he has to be a leader. It, like everything else in his life, is expected and so, he does.
While the divide between him and his classmates (them vs me) is easy enough to ignore, they sure like to bring it up a lot. The occasional jab about his secret job, ‘friendly’ jokes of blackmail, the idea that him being poor is his fatal flaw- it piles up. It’s not befitting of Isogai’s character to call them out on it, so he hides behind a tight-lipped smile and carries on as usual.
However. We all have our breaking points.
It’s during the codename assignment that the real Isogai rears his ugly head, green with envy and spite. Isogai had naively thought, that since he was a well-liked and well-respected member of E Class, he would get a cool nickname, like Kataoka or Nakamura or even something funny like Akabane’s.
But he doesn’t.
Because all he’s seen as is poor.
President Poverty.
It rings out in Isogai’s head, like a gunshot as he registers that he’s punching Maehara, fist moving on its own accord. He briefly thinks that this a bad idea, but that thought is soon swallowed whole by a sort of rage he’s not let himself indulge in, one he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Maehara, Hiroto, is supposed to be his friend, his closest one at that. Maehara was there at his father’s funeral, the one who held an umbrella over Isogai as he sobbed. He’s the one who helped to pick up some of the pieces left behind, he was the first to know about his part-time job, he’s the one who’s looked after his siblings when Isogai couldn’t. This feeling- it’s the icy touch of betrayal.
Maehara stumbles backwards, hands flying up to cover his face. When they shakily part, there’s blood dripping down his chin. He looks so confused, eyes blown wide and eyebrows almost touching his hairline.
“What the hell, Yuuma?” He splutters angrily, his shock being washed away by anger.
Isogai stands completely still, as if his legs had stopped listening to him. His hand is still balled up into a fist, but he can’t stop it from trembling. There’s a murmur amongst the other students, all eyes on him. He can hear Ritsu chiming on his phone, asking if he’s okay.
Isogai’s never felt better.
Akabane shuffles over to Maehara’s side, his interest clearly piqued. “It was just a joke.” He pipes up, mercury gold eyes narrowing.
Isogai’s face doesn’t budge and it’s somehow scarier than if he were to frown. He has so much he should say- he should demand an apology, explain how it’s not really funny to joke about, how he doesn’t appreciate that from his supposed best friend. Instead, all he manages out is, “I’m not laughing.”
There’s a beat that goes by, everyone left standing in shock. Kataoka shifts awkwardly, hand outstretched in an attempt to appease her classmate. “Isogai, are you alright?”
Isogai takes in deep breaths, grounding himself. Today is not a day to fight. He has work later today and everyone is here, and it wouldn’t look good on his part and if he fights, he won’t be able to work properly and if his mother found out she’d be disappointed and it’s a bad example to set to his siblings. So. He doesn’t. He simply shrugs his shoulders and walks off, heading back indoors. No one calls after him, no one chases him.
It’s never mentioned again.
Maehara seems to dance around Isogai from that day onwards, acting friendly but not quite friends. He agrees with everything Isogai says, laughs extra hard. Isogai registers it as Maehara fearing him, which isn’t what he wanted. He wanted respect, not fear. He maintains his usual act, all smiles but now, the one he uses for Maehara is fake. His siblings ask where Maehara is and he can’t lie to them.
“Me and Hiroto had a falling out. I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”
His sister pouts defiantly. “Well, make up with him! I miss Hiro.”
Isogai smiles sadly and gives her hair a ruffle. “It’s not that simple,” He hoists her up in his arms. “C’mon, it’s dinner time. Yuuma shouldn’t bother you with boring teenager stuff anyways.”
If Korosensei notices the tension between Maehara and Isogai, he doesn’t say anything. Which- rude but Isogai is more than happy with keeping Maehara at arm’s length. Perhaps, if he was so quick to make such insensitive jokes, Maehara was never really his friend. Which kind of hurts but the pain is no where near the betrayal Isogai felt.
Besides, Maehara is at his wit’s end. He snaps soon enough.
Akabane and Shiota get into a nasty spat, over whether Korosensei should be killed or if they should figure out a way to save him. And soon it turns into a whole civil war. When they take turns, choosing sides, Isogai keeps quiet, waiting for his moment. Not that choosing a side really matters anyways- he’s a realist and knows they’ll have to kill Korosensei, regardless of what side wins. But his classmates are still gullible, children who think that their actions can change anything. The outcome of this class civil war was decided when they were given a year to assassinate Korosensei.
Red vs blue. Akabane vs Shiota. Kill vs save. It doesn’t really matter. Isogai’s a team player, doesn’t mind playing for either side, doesn’t mind entertaining this little fantasy for either boy.
What does matter is what side Maehara chooses to fight for.
Isogai watches as Maehara bends down, admiring the blue paintballs before giving Shiota a high five. “I think we should at least try to save him,” He gives the paintballs a shake. “Killing should be our last option!”
Shiota smiles at Maehara and Isogai finds his moment.
He walks over to the supply of weapons they’ve been presented with. “This what we’ve been working towards this whole year,” His hands linger over the blue paintballs before going for the shiny red ones instead. “Maybe we haven’t succeeded in our attempts because we’ve been divided in ideology. We’ve yet to try and properly kill Korosensei. I think we should try that first.”
Nakamura, who looks pleasantly surprised at Isogai’s decision, issues him a fist-bump as Akabane raises an eyebrow at his choice. “No offence, class president, but I assumed you were going to choose blue.”
Isogai shrugs. “You know what they say about assuming.”
Akabane only grins, handing Isogai a knife. The rest of his class seem to be confused by choice, which is understandable, but what isn’t understandable is Maehara’s scowl, his face twisted in rage.
“Yuuma. This is petty,” Maehara’s arms are folded. “This- This isn’t like you. You’ve sang Korosensei’s praises all year and now, you want him to die?”
“I don’t want him to die, I just know he has to die,” Which regardless if Isogai was mad at Maehara or not, is true. Isogai turns to face Maehara, keeping his face even. “We might as well be the ones to do it, rather than the military or professional assassins.”
Maehara points a finger in his direction. “You’re only choosing red because I chose blue!” He accuses and perhaps Maehara is more observational than Isogai chalked him up to be.
Isogai frowns slightly. “And? I’m not obligated to agree with you.”
That shuts up Maehara, who’s taken aback by Isogai’s comment. The rest of the class choose their team, with Kataoka joining blue team. She gives Isogai a sad look and Isogai softens his gaze, reminding himself that this is about Maehara. Okano joins red team and gives Isogai an affirmative nod as she turns over the gun in her hands.
Five minutes before the civil war begins, Okano turns to Isogai. “Maehara was right, wasn’t he? You only chose a team after he did.”
“You noticed.”
Okano waves a hand. “It was obvious,” She smiles to herself, turning away from Isogai. “Still. Makes me wonder if you actually care about this whole thing. Or if it’s all about Maehara.”
Isogai leans forward on the rock he’s sitting on. “Am I being ridiculed?” He asks.
“No,” Okano taps her face with her fingers. “I just think you two should settle this…thing that you’ve got going on. It’s weird,” She pulls her hood over her head. “After we win, of course.”
Isogai snorts softly as he nods. “Right.”
Isogai’s a good fighter, near enough everyone in E Class knows that. Akabane does too, which is why he’s letting Isogai hang back, an ace up his sleeve as the redhead had put it.
He watches on his phone as Ritsu provides live updates, watching as his teammates get eliminated. It eventually whittles down to a small handful of them, one of them being Maehara. While Okano had clearly wanted the two to kiss and make up, Akabane wants the two to combust together.
“Hey, Isogai,” Comes Akabane’s voice from his phone. “Mind scouring the east side? We’re stretched a little thin here.”
Isogai isn’t stupid. “That’s where Maehara was last reported to be.”
Akabane’s laugh is muffled through the receiver. “All the more reason to go, right?”
Sure enough, Isogai heads eastward, keeping low to the ground but remains agile, like a cat. He makes it to a small clearing and it’s there he spots a speck of ginger hidden among the bushes. Bingo. Isogai raises his gun and fires but Maehara ducks so the paint splatters the tree behind him. Maehara, in return, sends a blue paintball his way, which Isogai easily dodges.
Isogai realises this probably won’t be easy.
Still hiding from behind the bush, Maehara calls out, “This isn’t about Korosensei to you, isn’t it?”
And Isogai knows that, no more how much he may hate Maehara in this moment, Maehara still knows him best. No point in lying. “No.” He shouts back.
Maehara appears from out behind the bush, gun in his hand. He keeps it trained on Isogai. “If I chose red team, you would’ve chosen blue team.” He speaks slowly, as if he’s still trying to understand.
Isogai decides there’s no point in hiding. He might as well be on even playing field with Maehara, so he also ditches the cover of the bush he was hiding in. “Yeah,” Isogai doesn’t lower his gun. “I would’ve.”
Maehara grins acidly and Isogai briefly thinks on how poorly it suits him. “So, following that logic, you don’t care if you’re eliminated or not.”
“Oh, no. I do care,” Isogai narrows his eyes. “Because if I’m eliminated, I can’t get away with fighting you.”
The fear that Maehara’s been hiding behind is gone, now replaced with something akin to bloodlust. “Nagisa told me you’d be after a fight. I guess Karma sent you here for a similar reason.”
“You’re good at this,” Isogai cocks his gun. “Any other guesses?”
Maehara pretends to think, as he begins to circle Isogai. Isogai also begins to move and before they know it, they’re walking around in a circle, guns still raised. “You’re still mad at the ‘President Poverty’ thing, huh?” Maehara clicks his tongue in disapproval. “I never got why that offended you. It’s endearing.”
Isogai’s gaze sharpens. “Tell me what’s so endearing about being reminded of my situation? The one that almost got me kicked out of this school, the one that almost made my mother pass out from stress, the one that killed my father,” And yeah, maybe Isogai’s an asshole for using the father card but he’s angry and Maehara is right there. “Please. Enlighten me on how President Poverty is a nice thing.”
“I never mentioned your father,” Maehara spits, eyes dark and unimpressed. “Don’t you- That’s not fair and you know it.” He motions with his hands, the gun jabbing forward.
Their conversation is interrupted by Ritsu, a welcome distraction for some. “2 classmates remaining!” She chimes, on both of their phones. Isogai checks the roster and. Ah.
It’s only him and Akabane left. And on the other team- Shiota and Maehara.
Maehara looks up from his phone and gauging by the look in his eyes, he’s got an idea. “Do you wanna take the finale away from them? I mean, if you don’t care about Korosensei’s fate, then we shouldn’t be the last two remaining.”
“What are you saying?”
Maehara throws his gun and knife away, Isogai watches as they clatter uselessly against each other. “Forget the stupid war,” He raises his fists, hopping from side to side, already in the offensive position. “This is between us. Man to man.”
Isogai blinks a few times before he smiles. “Yeah. Okay,” He chucks his gun to the side as well but decides to keep his knife on him, not ready to put himself at a complete disadvantage. He cracks his knuckles. “Just you and me.” And then, he charges at the other.
This is more difficult than it ought to be. Maehara knows Isogai and Isogai knows Maehara- they dance around each other, easily guessing the other’s next move, how they’ll block the other’s attacks. There’s also the issue that Maehara is more agile than Isogai- which is saying something. He’s no Okano, who can jump up to half her height, but he can easily drop the ground, as if gravity had been increased tenfold.
It’s a weird routine, with Isogai repeating ‘strike, dodge, block, strike’. He keeps up with Maehara’s own ‘dodge, strike, strike, dodge’ and realises they’re stuck in a rather sticky situation. They’re both evenly matched, similar builds and skills with the same assassin training. They worked best together so it’s no wonder that their fight is mostly spent dancing around each other.
Eventually, by a stroke of chance, Isogai has Maehara pinned, one hand holding the other’s boy’s wrists in place and the other prepared to land a blow. Maehara doesn’t look worried or scared or pained or even excited. His face is seemingly neutral, nose screwed up in discomfort and it’s only then, with Isogai the closest to Maehara he’s been in months, that he notices the state of Maehara’s nose.
“Your nose is crooked.” He whispers, mostly to himself but it’s also a question.
Maehara blinks at him. “Yeah. You have a mean right hook.”
Ah. Then that was his fault. Isogai doesn’t regret punching Maehara but he can’t help but feel a low twang of guilt in his stomach. It’s this hesitation that Maehara picks up, choosing to speak again.
“What are you waiting for? You wanna punch me, right?” He tilts his head to the side, a cocky grin on his face.
“This is-, you’re not supposed to be like this.” He hadn’t wanted Maehara to fear him, but he certainly doesn’t want Maehara to want this. There’s a perfectly outlined script in Isogai’s head and of course, Maehara being Maehara, he doesn’t fit the narrative flow.
“It’s only fun if I fight it, right? Otherwise, you’re just picking on me.”
Isogai frowns. “I hate you.”
Maehara’s gaze softens, the grin softening into more a sincere smile. “You don’t mean that.”
Isogai swallows the lump in his throat, feeling as if he’s just swallowed a bag of wet pennies. “I do.”
“You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me,” And that catches Isogai so off guard that Maehara manages to kick the other off, moving away from Isogai a little. Isogai rolls onto the ground but he doesn’t get up, instead turning his head to look at Maehara, who holds his hands in a semi defensive manner. “C’mon. You don’t really want to fight me.”
“Shut up,” Isogai doesn’t get up from the ground, much too comfy on his back. “I do hate you. I do want to fight.” He says it out loud and he’s a lot less convinced by it.
“You’re not the type to engage in unnecessary violence.”
Isogai sighs under his breath. Sometimes having a childhood best friend who knows everything about you is more a curse than a blessing. “Maybe so,” He mumbles. “…But I still hate you.”
Now it’s Maehara’s turn to sigh and Isogai watches the other rub the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier, about the codename thing. It was a pretty shitty thing to call you. I was just trying to rile you up.”
“It was. That codename,” He rolls his head over to look at Maehara, who’s now sitting cross-legged. “That hurt, Hiroto. You know better than anyone what I’ve gone through.”
“I know. That wasn’t cool.” He shakes his head, the sun’s rays shining off his ginger locks. “I should’ve apologised earlier.”
Isogai blinks. He hadn’t expected this. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Maehara repeats and for a while, they sit in a comfortable silence, one that they’ve grown accustomed to, having spent so long in each other’s company. They drink it in, listening to the nature around them. Now that most of their classmate shave been eliminated, the sound of paintball guns firing no longer echoes throughout. It’s a peaceful reminder of where they actually are, with Isogai too caught up in the idea of war that he forgot he’s at school.
Eventually, Maehara speaks again. “We probably need to talk more about this. I don’t think this’ll be forgotten after one conversation.”
Isogai props himself up on his elbows, surprised by the other’s maturity. He nods. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” He opens his mouth to continue but his phone buzzes, which stops his train of thought. He checks it but doesn’t immediately answer. “It’s Karma.” He tells Maehara.
Maehara flashes his own phone. “Nagisa’s sent me a message.”
That’s the reminder that they’re technically supposed to be fighting one another.
“Our weapons are still all the way over there.” Maehara comments, as if he could read Isogai’s mind.
Isogai unzips his chest pocket and slips out his knife. “Ah. I never discarded my knife.” He admits guilty, cheeks heating up in embarrassment after being found out.
Maehara blinks at him, once, twice, before revealing his hidden second knife. “That’s kinda funny. How did we both think that?”
“Same soup, just reheated. Or whatever it is you used to say,” Isogai allows a smile to tug at his lips as he lives through his reverie. And then Akabane phones again, shattering the silence yet again and Isogai decides to answer. “Hello?”
Akabane’s never been a patient guy and this stressful situation doesn’t help it. “Why isn’t Maehara eliminated yet? It’s been like 10 minutes!” He complains.
“Isogai’s gaze flickers from his phone to Maehara to his phone once again. “…I’m sorry, Akabane, but I don’t think I’ll be able to contribute any further to red team.” Isogai turns on speaker mode before setting his phone down. He holds his knife, still with a lick of red paint on the blade in one hand while he offers his other to Maehara.
“Huh? Why?”
Maehara seems to get the jist and mirrors Isogai, holding his knife just above Isogai’s hand, the blue paint pooling at the tip of the plastic blade. “Ah, well. It’s just- We’ve both just been eliminated.” And with that, Isogai and Maehara mark the other with their respective colour of paint, eliminating the both of them at the same time. Ritsu appears on both of their phones- letting them know they’ve been eliminated which- yeah, we know.
“Isogai!” Akabane seethes from over the phone but Isogai knows the other isn’t really angry at him. Akabane had said it himself- it was unusual for Isogai to have chosen red team and perhaps Akabane knew all along that Isogai was a flimsy last resort. Besides, Akabane has bigger fish to fry, if Shiota’s brief phone call with Maehara is anything to go on.
Maehara reclines backwards, so that he’s lying on the ground next to Isogai. “Want to get ice cream after school? My treat.” He offers.
Isogai can see the metaphorical olive branch in the other’s words and hums to himself. “You can’t bribe me back into being your friend, you know.”
And Maehara laughs heartily, a proper chuckle, one that Isogai hasn’t heard in what feels like months. “I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”