The apartment was quiet now. Broken furniture and scattered knives lay across the floor, evidence of the violent clash between Nagisa Shiota and Yoku Hakumura. The room smelled faintly of blood, sweat, and iron. Outside, the hum of Tokyo life persisted, unaware of the small war waged in this modest apartment.
Nagisa stood in the center of the room, breathing steadily, eyes locked on Hakumura, who was sitting against the wall, his shoulder pinned lightly by a chair leg. His once-pristine assassin uniform was torn, his face bruised, but his expression remained defiant.
Nagisa's blue eyes, usually soft and contemplative, now held an unyielding edge. He had faced death countless times—not as a child in 3-E, not as a timid student—but as someone who understood that survival was not just about skill. It was about resolve, about the will to fight for those who could not fight for themselves, about holding onto the truth when the world tried to obscure it.
"Now… the questions begin."
The Interrogation Begins
Nagisa crouched to meet Hakumura's gaze. His knife, resting against the wall beside him, gleamed faintly under the harsh light of the overhead lamp. It was not a weapon now—it was a statement. A symbol of his control over the situation, the balance between mercy and force.
"Tell me who sent you," Nagisa began, his voice calm but authoritative. "Who is behind this mission, and why target me?"
Hakumura's lips curled into a faint smirk. "You think pinning me like this gives you the upper hand? You fought me, yes… but understanding me will require more than threats."
Nagisa leaned closer, eyes narrowing. He had learned long ago that assassins often thrived on confidence, on arrogance—but confidence left gaps. Small openings, flaws, tiny weaknesses that spoke louder than words.
"I can read you. I know you. And I will find the truth, whether you like it or not."
Hakumura's smirk faltered slightly. He shifted, glancing around the room at the ruined apartment. "You… are not what I expected. Most would have killed me by now. Most would have panicked."
Nagisa's voice remained steady, yet his mind raced. He had to probe deeper, gently yet insistently, to pull out information without pushing Hakumura to suicide by fighting back. His life—and the lives of others—depended on the answers.
"UMA 8907," Nagisa thought. "That's the name floating in the shadows. The government-backed organization behind this… but why now? And why me?"
Memories of 3-E
Nagisa's gaze softened for a moment, and he felt the familiar ache of memory. He remembered his time in Class 3-E, under Koro-sensei's guidance. The countless lessons, the impossible trials, the moments of fear, courage, and self-discovery. He remembered the friends he had lost—Kayano, the unassuming presence of Sugino's determination, the subtle strength of Karma's rebellious spirit.
"I survived everything they threw at me," Nagisa whispered to himself. "I learned. I grew. I became someone who could face this… and more. Back then I' heard about that project."
The memory of the farewell party flashed across his mind: students he had once thought of as adversaries, now looking at him with trust and respect. He could feel the weight of their faith, their belief in him, grounding his resolve.
Nagisa's voice broke through the silence, low and sharp:"I know you've been sent by an organization. I know your orders. I know your target. But I need the truth… not lies, not half-truths. The whole truth, or nothing."
Hakumura's eyes flickered. He had anticipated a man who would react with fear or anger—but instead, Nagisa's calm, measured approach was a weapon in itself. A knife without edge, yet infinitely more dangerous than a blade.
The First Revelation
Finally, Hakumura's lips parted. "UMA 8907… yes. That is who sent me. But you… you don't understand what you're asking for."
Nagisa's eyes narrowed. Every detail mattered. His voice remained controlled, even as his heart raced. "Then tell me. I've survived worse. I've faced the impossible. I can survive this too. But only if I know what I am facing."
Hakumura's gaze hardened. "You don't. You are naive, Shiota. UMA 8907 isn't just a government-backed organization. They operate in shadows, in silence. They manipulate, they use, they discard. You were… on a list long before I found you."
Nagisa's heart tightened, a strange mixture of fear and determination washing over him. The past few years, his quiet life, his work as an office employee, had been an attempt at normalcy. But normalcy was a fragile illusion. The world he had tried to leave behind had come crashing back.
"I am not naive," he thought. "I am ready. I always have been."
The Battle Resumes
Hakumura shifted suddenly, attempting to rise despite his injuries. Nagisa's instincts flared, and he grabbed the nearest object—a frying pan—swinging it with precision to keep the assassin at bay. Hakumura blocked, but the strike gave Nagisa the opening he needed. A chair became a makeshift barrier, knives were thrown with pinpoint accuracy, and the confined apartment became a battlefield where everyday objects became weapons of survival.
The battle was no longer just physical; it was mental, psychological. Nagisa pushed Hakumura, testing his limits, drawing out the truths that lay beneath the assassin's stoic exterior. Each strike, each feint, each calculated movement was a conversation without words—a dialogue of pain, strategy, and intent.
"Pain is a language," Nagisa thought. "And I will make him speak it."
Emotional Depth Amid Chaos
As the fight continued, Nagisa's mind wandered again, tracing the arc of his life. He remembered the countless times he had faced impossible odds: the threats from Koro-sensei, the classroom assassinations, the losses of friends and classmates. He recalled the nights spent alone, practicing moves, perfecting his strategy, learning to survive not just physically but mentally.
"I am who I am because of all of it," he whispered, almost to himself. "I will not falter. I will not break. I will endure."
Each block, each counterattack, was fueled not just by instinct but by memory, by purpose, by the weight of every person who had believed in him. Nagisa was no longer the timid teenager of 3-E; he was a person shaped by love, loss, and relentless determination.
The Turning Point
Hakumura lunged again, faster and more precise than before. But Nagisa was ready. Using a combination of knives, chairs, and sheer tactical brilliance, he disarmed Hakumura's attack, twisting the assassin's arm behind him and pinning him to the floor. Hakumura struggled, eyes burning with fury and respect.
Nagisa crouched, placing a knife lightly to Hakumura's neck—not to kill, but to assert dominance. His voice was calm, almost serene, yet each word carried the weight of conviction.
"Enough games. You will answer my questions now. Who in UMA 8907 sent you? What is their objective? And why target me?"
Hakumura's stomach heaved. He realized that Nagisa was not just asking questions; he was demanding truth through sheer willpower. The room was silent, save for the ragged breathing of the two combatants.
Finally, Hakumura whispered, almost reluctantly: "They… they want you. Not just you… but what you represent. You survived Koro-sensei, you learned, you grew… and they see you as a variable. A threat to be eliminated. A tool to be tested. Either one, UMA 8907… they experiment on people like you, shaping the world behind the scenes. They… they sent me because they wanted to see if you could be broken until the time came where I would capture you. And not only earn my cash, but so they can eventually experiement on you."
Nagisa's mind raced, absorbing the revelation. UMA 8907—government-sanctioned, shadow-bound, manipulating and testing human potential like a cold, unfeeling machine. And he had been a target all along.
"I am not broken," he thought, feeling the familiar surge of resolve. "I never will be."
The Emotional Resolve
Nagisa released Hakumura, stepping back but never letting his guard down. The room was a battlefield, but more than that, it was a testament to human willpower. Nagisa's eyes softened, reflecting both his pain and his determination.
"I have faced death before. I have faced loss. I have faced impossible odds. And I am still here. I am still me. I will survive… and I will protect those who believe in me."
Hakumura, bleeding and bruised, looked up at Nagisa not with fear, but with something else—a faint trace of respect. He had underestimated the quiet strength of a human forged by love, loss, and unwavering resolve.
Nagisa knelt slightly, almost gently. "I will not kill you. But I need information. You will help me… because the world will not stop, and neither will I."
A New Threat Emerges
Even as Nagisa secured Hakumura, the faint hum of technology alerted him to another presence. He realized that UMA 8907 was not just sending assassins—they were monitoring, coordinating, planning. The shadows were deep, and the threats were many.
Nagisa's mind sharpened. This was only the beginning. He would need every skill, every lesson, every memory of 3-E, every ounce of resilience, to face what was coming. And he was ready.
"UMA 8907," he whispered, voice firm. "You've made your move. But I am not your pawn. I am not your experiment. I am Nagisa Shiota… and I will face whatever comes next."
Outside, Tokyo continued its quiet, oblivious rhythm. Inside, a being who had once been timid and uncertain now stood resolute, prepared to face the storm—and to survive.
The screen faded to black.
To Be Continued...