A/N: So, I just finished this show, and, I must say… Wahhhh. Evil ending. Tragic. Truly. I'm impressed. Really, I am. Of course, now that I've finished the series, I of course must… Write a fanfiction!

I had several ideas for one but decided to combine them. Let's see how this goes

I did need to give a name to our esteemed Reaper though since he is, of course, not the Reaper yet at the beginning of this. I debated whether giving Korosensei one as well, but decided not to. The name for the Reaper comes from a character in Noragami that was very fond of flowers before being. You know. Mauled to death by a trusted comrade. Ah. Anime betrayals

The conversation is taken right out of Episode 23 of the dub

Note: the bold the at the beginning isn't a mistake. It's there for a reason

Published: 2/28/2018

Warnings: None so far


Chapter 1

First Shift: The Importance of Proper Couch Placement

The

"If I had only seen that smile, I might have led the poor boy down an entirely different path…"

Fate is the strangest thing. Just the smallest shift in reality can have the biggest impacts. It wasn't like it was a very big shift either. Miniscule, really. So miniscule that there was no way it could cause so much change, right?

Where does it matter where they put the couch?

"I think it looks better over there."

And, Master? Master just shrugs.

"As long as the back of it doesn't face the door, I don't care."

Such a small little conversation that Suzuha doesn't even remember having. It shouldn't matter at all. It should have no impact on anything. Just one more forgettable detail in the mess we call life.

Except, it isn't.

It isn't, because when Master sits down and examines the vase Suzuha had filled the morning, he lifts a hand and trails it along the petals. When he does so, his back isn't to Suzuha. No. Master is looking right at him, even as Suzuha himself is turned away, cleaning the sniper rifle. Guns are useless if you let them get jammed with dirt and grime.

"What are these flowers for?"

Suzuha resists the urge to freeze. His back is to his Master. Try as he might, Suzuha knows his Master will notice the tension in his muscles, in his back. The nerves running up and down his spine. Master will know. Master always knows.

"I… Uh… Just thought they looked pretty, is all. I figured making arrangements might, I don't know, come in handy one day or something." Suzuha cleaned the rifle, his form rigid. He turned around, eyes locking with those of his teacher across the room. "Sorry, Master. I can move them." he offered.

Master considered. He eyed the flowers one more time before he smiled, eyes closed, book in hand. Suzuha's feels like his heart is lodged in his throat. Great. Here it comes. The usual admonishment Master seems so fond of feeding him.

Instead, what comes next surprises him. What comes next makes him smile. Makes his heart soar.

"No. Leave them here. You've got a keen eye. Nicely done."

Praise is an interesting thing. You never realize how much you need it, how much you crave it, until you've been starved of it. Starved it for years. Master hadn't praised him in years. No. Just that same cool disposition, disappointed in everything Suzuha did, pushing his own ideals down his throat.

Any deviation from that was wrong.

But, this, here?

"You really mean that, sir?! I can make a fresh bouquet every morning!" Suzuha can't contain his excitement. His Master liked it. He really liked it! His Master never liked anything Suzuha did, never liked any of his ideas! But, this… His Master approved!

His Master seems taken aback by Suzuha's excitement. Surprised, even. Suzuha himself doesn't noticed. He's too thrilled, really. The boy who didn't blink at having his own father murdered right in front of him but, instead, praised his slayer and begged to be taken in, had never looked more like a child than now.

He wanted you to acknowledge him. That's what all students want

Master's expression rapidly masked. The surprise ebbed away, as if it had never been there in the first place. Blink, and you miss it. Well, Suzuha had blinked, so he didn't see it. Still, the shift was made. Time was about to diverge.

"I suppose you could, but I'd rather you study chemistry. With what you know now, you'd be lucky to kill a mosquito."

"Uhhh…" a short laugh sheepish laugh escaped Suzuha's lips.

Master smiled at him.

"Although, I suppose it wouldn't be bad to indulge in this little hobby of yours. I know I don't say this enough, but I'm proud to be your Master."

At this point, Master looks away. Looks away, eyes fixated back on his little book. Looks away, and misses the singular tear of joy running down Suzuha's face.

Acknowledgement is a very powerful thing.

Humans crave attention.

They crave to be seen.

To be noticed.

To be cared for.

And now, for the first time in his life, Suzuha had been acknowledged.

His own family had never wanted him. His father had been a wild drunk and a thug. He didn't even know his mother. She died in childbirth. His stepmother never failed to look at him in contempt, the child born from her husbands promiscuity. The less said about his half sister the better.

But this man, here, this man was proud of him. This man saw him.

And that meant everything in the world.