I looked out the limo's tinted window, brushing my long blonde wavy hair behind my ears. My legal guardian rambled on about my school schedule. I shut her out, categorizing the people we drove past into what type of lives they lived. I paid attention to clothes, how hygienic they were, and if I could, see if they had a wedding ring. Surprisingly, that was one of the biggest factors.
But none of that mattered. Someone could act one way, yet be completely different, like me. Most people who knew nothing of my past, would think I was just a spoiled daddy's girl. I was dressed to perfection, my nails looked like something out of a magazine, not a single one of my hairs were out of place. I always had the latest phone and clothes. Anything and every thing a teenage girl could want.
My emotionless, blank face, often portrayed me as bored. Which did happen to be true a large amount of time. People often avoided me. Not that I minded. I didn't have time to play around and talk about boys.
I was an assassin. My point was to kill.
I was never a normal child. In first grade I was told to write a story about someone going to the moon. My classmates' stories were all happy, while my character was injected with a drug and killed. Needless to say, my teacher wasn't to ecstatic. I had to change the whole thing.
Second Grade, I was assigned to draw a portrait of someone. Mine, unlike my classmates, was covered in blood, a knife in the side of the girls head. I was quickly put into therapy. Not soon after, my parents were both killed by an assassin. I was left with millions of dollars since my mom was a model and my father a international business owner. I was put under the government's care. One thing lead to another and I was being trained to be an assassin.
I never do miss my parents or wish I still had them. I had other things to do. Now being 14, I had over 20 kills under my belt. Not something you can probably say.
We pulled up to a hill. I slipped a green knife into my purse and covered my hands in a almost invisible powder. I grabbed my satchel and put it over my shoulder with my purse.
I opened the car door before the driver could help me out, ignoring my guardians reminders.
"Try to smile every now and then, don't forget to-" I slammed the car door shut before she could finish
I walked up to a black haired man. He wore a suit and tie, he looked to official for my taste.
"I'm-"
"Your Mr Karasuma." I interrupted. "I've already been informed of every one except for my new classmates."
"Good, that makes things easier." He turned and started to head up the behemoth of a hill.
I followed, wondering what my new classmates, or in my mind, partners in assassination, would be like.
I stood next to Karasuma, a fake smile plastered to my face. My new class looked back at me.
"This is Mrs. Freya Marie." Karasuma said. "She is a transfer from America. She has already been informed of the circumstances for this class. I expect you to treat her with respect." He eyed a redhead who gave a sweet smile back. I put him on my watch-out-for list.
"Hi, I'm happy to be in your class. Feel free to use my first name." My Japanese slipped off my lips like silk. Japanese was just one of the many languages I knew.
I would hold up this act till after I had met my target. I needed him to trust me, to suspect nothing. From what I knew, no one in class 3-E knew of my complicated past. That included the teachers. Well, except Karasuma who only knew as much as needed.
"So as in the Freya corporation?" The redhead asked. "The business that suddenly shut down suddenly 7 years ago?"
My smile faltered slightly, only the keenest of eyes would have noticed.
"Well...yes. My Father was the owner of The Freya Corp."
Mr. Karasuma jumped in before any more questions could be asked. "Well I hope you do well here. Now I have some business that needs to be taken care of." He left without another word.
Before I could move an inch, my target walked in. I stared at the yellow tentacled person, or to be more correct, creature, I wasn't sure yet, who would now be my teacher.
"Ah, you must my new student." His perpetual smile intrigued me. "You may call me Koro Sensei, I apologize for being late, I had some business in Peru I had to deal with."
"No problem sir. I understand, and please, call me Marie."
"Of course, if that's what you would like. Me and my class hope to make your stay here in Japan pleasant."
I put my hand out to shake, my palm facing slightly upwards showing I had nothing in my hand.
"I hope to have a good year with you."
Go on, take the bait.
I looked like a innocent mouse, when in truth, I was a snake in the grass, ready to strike.
As soon as his tentacle touched my hand, it quickly disintegrated. I flipped my green knife out of my purse with expert precision. I slashed at him, he dodged out of the way, a startled look on his face. I dropped the knife and grabbed the small hand gun in my purse. I shot several pink BBs at him before stopping. I put my gun back in my purse and picked my knife up off the floor.
"Guess that powder they whipped up really does work." I brushed the now white powder off into a nearby trashcan.
I turned back to my teacher and class. Most of them had a surprised look on their faces. I noted the glint in the redhead's eyes.
"Well done Marie, though I will have to ask you to refrain from shooting in class. We have a strict rule against it."
"Of course, please forgive me."
"It's ok young lady, how about you take a seat next to Mr. Shioto."
A boy with blue hair looked me in the eye giving me a wave. I made way over to my seat, noting how much he looked like a girl. With his hair put up in pigtails and that small frame of his, cross dressing must be a piece of cake. Which might I and, is useful skill set to have in my line of work.
I looked forward to the rest of my stay here.
Hey guys! Tell me what you think of Marie. Please review!
I do not own Assassination Classroom just Marie and the idea behind her.
