Assassinating The Remaining Distance
The Serpent’s Song and the Politician’s Pride
"Hey, ya dumbasses! Get back in here—we're singing good tonight!"
Terasaka’s voice was an unmistakable bark, a jagged sound that sliced through the intimate, rain-slicked silence of the alleyway. The sudden noise startled Nagisa, causing him to jump slightly and pull back from Karma’s chest. The cool air rushed in to fill the space where warmth had just been, a sharp reminder that they were no longer alone in the dark.
Karma’s smile didn’t fade, though it took on a slightly frozen, calculating quality as he glanced toward the open door of the izakaya. He wondered briefly if Terasaka’s blunt, unobservant eyes had caught the tail end of that kiss. Not that it mattered—Karma Akabane didn't fear the judgment of a man who still struggled with basic algebra—but he enjoyed controlling the flow of information.
With a soft, uncharacteristic sigh, Karma held his hand out toward Nagisa.
"Hey," Karma called out softly.
Nagisa turned around. The neon lights from the street caught the moisture in his eyes, making them shine with a radiance that no amount of professional composure could dampen. To his own surprise, Nagisa felt a stray tear track down his cheek—a release of years of quiet longing and the sheer shock of finally being found. He wiped it away quickly with the back of his hand, his cheeks flushed a brilliant pink.
Karma stepped closer, his large hand landing in Nagisa’s blue hair. He ruffled it gently, his touch lingering with a possessiveness that felt like a promise. "You're adorable. Do you know that? I'm so in love with you."
Nagisa let out a shaky breath, leaning into the touch for just a second. "M-me, too... but... are we?"
"Going in like this?" Karma finished the thought, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Letting 'em know?"
"Yeah. That," Nagisa admitted, glancing at their joined hands. "It’s been five years, Karma. They’re going to be... loud."
"Nagisa, if I want to hide anything from these losers, it's definitely not my new relationship with the sweetest man ever," Karma said, his voice dropping into that smooth, confident tone he used to sway voters and silence opponents. "Especially with my song choice coming up..."
Nagisa blinked, a sense of impending dread washing over him. "What's that supposed to mean—oh!"
Before Nagisa could protest or ask for clarification, Karma had tightened his grip on his hand. With a predatory grin, the redhead led him back into the warmth and chaos of the restaurant.
The transition was jarring. They went from the quiet, rhythmic patter of the rain to a wall of sound. The air inside smelled of grilled yakitori, spilled beer, and the unmistakable scent of nostalgia. Most of Class 3-E was already deep into the "celebration" phase of the evening.
As they walked through the room, the atmosphere shifted. It started with Sugino, who dropped his glass of oolong tea when he saw their interlaced fingers. Then Kayano’s eyes went wide, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle a squeal. Even Itona, usually the most stoic of the bunch, paused mid-bite of his snacks to stare at the pair.
Nagisa lowered his gaze, his face burning. He could feel the weight of twenty-odd pairs of eyes, many of which were exchanging pointed, "I-told-you-so" looks.
"Look who finally decided to join the party," Rio Nakamura drawled, leaning back with a smug expression that suggested she had already won a betting pool Nagisa didn't want to know about.
"We were just discussing the merits of long-distance communication," Karma replied smoothly, not letting go of Nagisa’s hand as he navigated them toward the center of the room. "But we decided that in-person demonstrations are much more effective."
Nagisa managed to slip away to take a seat next to Hayami, who offered him a small, knowing smile. It was a silent comfort, the kind of solidarity only a fellow observer could provide.
"You okay?" Hayami whispered.
"I think my heart is trying to escape through my ribs," Nagisa whispered back, though his smile remained fixed.
Nearby, the chaos continued. Some staff members had gathered around a large television in the middle of the room, acting as impromptu VJs for the night. They were adding whatever songs were shouted out into the digital playlist with the weary patience of people used to drunk salarymen.
"Next up!" Nakamura shouted, pointing a finger at the screen. "A little something to set the mood!"
Nagisa’s eyes darted to the monitor. He saw that Nakamura and Maehara had teamed up to add a song that was notorious for its suggestive lyrics and heavy bass. The others groaned or laughed, anticipating the awkwardness of hearing Terasaka attempt to hit the high notes of a sultry R&B track.
However, Karma had other plans. He walked up to one of the waitresses, leaning down to whisper something in her ear. His posture was charming, his smile disarming, and the poor girl nodded frantically, her face turning red as she tapped rapidly on the tablet.
Nagisa watched as a new title climbed to the very top of the queue, bumping the "erotic" song down. His heart plummeted.
*Anata No Darling.*
It was the cheesiest, most saccharine-sweet romantic ballad currently topping the charts in Japan. It was the kind of song played at weddings and in grocery stores to make people feel sentimental. It was, in every sense of the word, a "cutesy" nightmare.
The waitress clicked "play."
The opening chords—a flurry of bubbly synthesizers and a cheerful piano melody—filled the room. A collective gasp went up from the class.
Karma already had a microphone in his hand. He grabbed a second one from the stand, twirling it with the grace of a seasoned performer, and pointed it directly at Nagisa.
"Come on up, Nagisa," Karma challenged, his voice amplified by the speakers, echoing with a playful, dangerous edge. "Bass and whatever cutesy range you have complement each other perfectly!"
"Karma, you can't be serious!" Nagisa called out from his seat, though his protests were drowned out by the sudden cheering of the class.
"Get up there, Nagisa!" Sugino yelled, pumping a fist in the air.
"Show him who’s the boss of the classroom!" Kayano added, her eyes sparkling with delight.
Realizing there was no escape—and knowing that Karma would probably just come over and carry him to the stage if he refused—Nagisa stood up. He walked toward the small raised platform, his legs feeling a bit like jelly.
Karma handed him the second microphone, his fingers brushing against Nagisa’s in a way that felt like a secret. "Don't hold back, Teach. I want the full 'Serpent' treatment."
"You're going to regret this," Nagisa muttered, though he was already adjusting his stance, his internal 'assassin' switch flipping to 'performance' mode.
The lyrics began to scroll across the screen.
Karma took the first verse. His voice was surprisingly good—a rich, steady baritone that he infused with just enough irony to make it clear he was teasing, but enough genuine skill to show he was serious. He sang about finding someone in a crowded room, his eyes never leaving Nagisa’s face.
*“I searched through the static and the grey,”* Karma sang, stepping closer to Nagisa, *“But you were the only color I could see.”*
The class erupted. Terasaka looked like he wanted to gag, while Yada and Kurahashi were practically vibrating with excitement.
Then, it was Nagisa’s turn.
He took a breath, closing his eyes for a split second to find his center. When he opened them, the shy, blushing teacher had vanished. In his place was the Nagisa Shiota who could disappear in plain sight, the one who could command a room with a whisper.
He sang the "cutesy" lyrics, but he didn't sing them like a pop star. He sang them with a soft, melodic precision that made every word feel like a direct hit. His voice, naturally high and clear, soared over the bubbly backing track, turning the cheesy ballad into something strangely haunting and sincere.
*“You think you’re the hunter, hidden in the shade,”* Nagisa sang, his blue eyes locking onto Karma’s gold ones, *“But you’re the one who walked into my trap today.”*
Karma’s eyebrows shot up. A genuine, surprised laugh escaped him mid-song. He hadn't expected Nagisa to flip the script so effectively.
As the chorus hit, they sang together. The contrast was startling—Karma’s deep, commanding resonance and Nagisa’s light, airy clarity. It shouldn't have worked. The song was too sweet, the singers were too different, and the audience was a group of former child assassins.
And yet, it was perfect.
They moved in sync, a dance they had practiced for years without ever knowing it. Karma leaned in, his height creating a shadow that Nagisa navigated with ease. They traded lines like they used to trade blows in training—quick, sharp, and full of hidden meaning.
By the time the final, sparkling note faded away, the room was silent for exactly three seconds before it exploded into a roar of applause and whistling.
"Holy crap, they actually did it!" Maehara shouted, clapping Isogai on the shoulder.
"That was disgusting," Hazama remarked, though she was filming the whole thing on her phone with a small, dark smile. "I'm uploading it to the private server immediately."
Karma didn't seem to hear them. He was still looking at Nagisa, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion and the adrenaline. He lowered his microphone, the smug politician mask finally cracking to reveal the boy who had once been Nagisa’s best friend and biggest rival.
"You're a terrifying man, Nagisa Shiota," Karma whispered, loud enough only for the two of them to hear.
Nagisa smiled, the soft, gentle expression returning to his face, though his eyes remained sharp. "I told you I'd tamed the class, Karma. Did you think you were the exception?"
Karma let out a low whistle, a look of pure, unadulterated admiration crossing his face. He leaned down, ignoring the catcalls and the cameras, and pressed his forehead against Nagisa’s.
"I think," Karma said, his voice thick with a rare sincerity, "that I'm exactly where I want to be."
Nagisa reached up, his hand settling on the back of Karma’s neck. "Me too."
The rest of the night was a blur of chaos. Terasaka eventually got his turn at the microphone, butchering a heavy metal song while Yoshida and Muramatsu acted as his backup dancers. Okajima tried to hit on the waitresses and was promptly shut down by a sharp look from Kataoka. Ritsu appeared on everyone’s phones simultaneously to toast the new couple, having apparently calculated the probability of their union years ago.
Through it all, Karma and Nagisa stayed close. They sat at the end of the long table, their shoulders touching, their hands occasionally meeting under the tablecloth.
As the reunion finally wound down and people began to stagger toward the exit, making plans for a brunch the next morning that half of them would likely sleep through, Nagisa felt a sense of profound peace.
They stood outside the izakaya, the rain having finally stopped, leaving the city smelling of wet pavement and fresh air.
"So," Karma said, adjusting his suit jacket. "The five-year plan starts tomorrow."
Nagisa looked up at him, the looming skyscraper of a man who was now, officially, his. "What's the first step?"
Karma reached out, tucking a stray lock of blue hair behind Nagisa’s ear. "Step one: I drive you home. Step two: We figure out how to tell your students that their 'Midget-sensei' is dating a man who could buy their school."
Nagisa laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet street. "They'll probably just think I've tamed another wild animal."
"Hey," Karma protested, though his grin was wide. "I'm a very sophisticated animal."
"A very sophisticated, very red, very loud animal," Nagisa teased, stepping into the circle of Karma’s arms.
As they walked toward the sleek black car waiting at the curb, Nagisa felt the last of the "missing piece" ache vanish. He had his career. He had his friends. And now, he had the person who understood the serpent behind the smile.
The ordinary life he had craved wasn't going to be so ordinary after all. With Karma Akabane, it was going to be a series of challenges, teases, and high-stakes maneuvers.
And Nagisa Shiota, the teacher who had learned to lead by observing, wouldn't have it any other way.
As the car pulled away from the curb, disappearing into the glittering lights of Tokyo, Nagisa leaned his head on Karma’s shoulder. The future was unwritten, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't just observing it. He was living it.
"Karma?" Nagisa murmured as the city lights blurred past.
"Yeah?"
"Don't think this means you're getting out of doing the dishes when we get to that part of the plan."
Karma chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through Nagisa’s entire body. "Wouldn't dream of it, Sensei. Wouldn't dream of it."