Hey guys! I am here with a quick update! I am aiming to have this story completed within the next two weeks so that I can move on to other stories. I don't want to leave this one hanging and so I am back with renewed energy to get er' done! So to all my avid readers, the end you have been waiting for is near. I would so atleast 3 more chapters :)

PS: I do not own anything from Assassination Classroom

PSS: I have gone and updated the chapters with time stamps so the time skips are not as confusing, hope it helps!

Thank you for reading!

All I wanted was for him to be mine…

About two years ago.

"To what do I owe the pleasure…Mother?"

She sipped her tea quietly, her legs crossed as she sat across from me.

With no urge to answer my question, she placed the cup on the saucer in her lap,

A smile spreading on her thin lips.

I studied her every move to answer my own question.

Since I knew she wasn't planning on speaking anytime soon,

Which frustrated the hell out of me.

Like she usually did.

She knew exactly what buttons to push

Since I took after her.

Not only in looks but also in temper.

It was a rare occasion when my mother decided to visit me at my apartment,

Out in the city.

Usually, I would only see her and my father when I would make the trek back home for the holidays.

Keeping them at a distance, just like they had done to me all my life.

They were not bad parents, just occupied more with their own lives over their son's.

They loved to travel even before I came along.

Their calling was usually India where they learned to cook and the art of meditation.

India was also where they found the name they would bestowed upon me.

Karma.

Little red-faced, angry Karma would arrive in their world on Christmas Day.

And with the namesake, came the responsibility to follow in their footsteps.

But I was not so…peaceful.

I was violent and moody even at the tender age of two.

And even as I grew older, I could not sit still long enough to meditate or cared to even try.

My father didn't understand where my temperament came from.

But my mother knew right away.

She could see her younger self in me and she knew she must act quickly or it would be too late for me.

I remembered my first lesson when I had just turned 5.

I had come running into our front door with a bruise forming around my eye.

I had gotten into a fight with the neighbor kid over who would get to go first on the tire swing out back.

He just simply couldn't understand that it was my tire swing and therefore, I should always get to go first.

But he wasn't having it and so….I let him have it, earning himself a bloody nose.

And then he let me have it, pushing the tire swing right at my face.

I was furious, huffing and puffing when I came into the kitchen

And found my mother at the counter, preparing to make rice balls.

I was clenching and unclenching my hands, feeling the need to hit something.

Then she pulled a chair up to the counter, patting it.

"Karma, come here, I want to show you something."

Letting out a big puff of air, I hopped up on the chair, standing to see what all the fuss was about.

"Let me see your hands."

I unclenched my fists, holding them out to her.

And right smack dab on the counter in from of my hands, she plopped a handful of rice.

"See if you can make it into a ball, Karma. Like this."

She put the rice ball she had been working with her hands, onto the counter.

And for the first time, I noticed how calloused and rough my mother's hands looked.

There were scars around her knuckles that I hadn't seen there before, or really bother to look at it.

And then I looked down at my own hands and noticed the dry blood on my knuckles from punching the other kid.

Would my hands end up like my mom's?

How did my mom's hands even get like that? She was an office worker, not a laborer.

"Wash the blood off your hands before you touch the rice. Then we can talk about how you got blood on you in the first place."

I swallowed hard and did what she told me to.

At the time, I didn't understand exactly what my mother was doing for me.

I was too young to really understand.

But when I got older, I found my way into the kitchen more and more, I realized my mother was doing me a favor.

She was giving my violent hands something productive to do.

Just like her mother gave her when she was violent.

And so not only do I have my mother to thank for my violent ways but always for my remedy.

And for my good cooking skills.

"Karma?"

Her golden eyes met mine and instantly I knew she was not here for the sake of seeing how her son was doing.

"Mother?"

She placed the cup and saucer onto the coffee table that was between us, reaching into her purse.

Pulling out a few manila folders, she placed them next to the teapot.

I glanced at the tabs and noticed they were labeled.

Labeled with names. First and last.

And all the names had one thing in common…they all belonged to females.

I narrowed my eyes at her and picked up the first folder, opening it right away.

I was in no mood to beat around the bush this time.

"I came to bring you a few more files to look at. You left town in a hurry at New Year's so I wanted to make sure I got these to you," she said calmly as she poured herself another cup of tea.

I glanced down at the first page that contained basic information and a photo.

This one had big brown eyes and long black hair to go with them.

I closed it and tossed it onto the table, picking up the next one.

Same thing. Big brown eyes, this time with short bangs across the front, her smile appeared fake.

I picked up the next one as my mom continued.

"Karma, are you even looking at their attributes? The first one is attending a medical university near downtown. She's studying to become a pediatrician and she's quite pretty too. And that other girl is also studying in the medical field."

I opened the next file to find another pair of brown eyes looking at me. I don't even bother to read her name before I picked up the next one. This is the last file and my mother is looking slightly desperate.

"Oo, I like this one Karma. She comes from a good family and is studying to become an elementary teacher. Oh! And wait til you see her eyes! I should have put her on the top of the pile. She is right up your ally, I think."

I glanced at my mother before opening the file.

Big, cerulean eyes look up at me. Her smile doesn't looked force and I even notice a faint blush on her cheeks. Her hair is done up in short pigtails just like….

I scanned the file to find her name.

Endo Hinata….

I sighed and tossed the file on top of the rest of dejected files.

Closing my eyes, I leaned back.

I was almost relieved her name wasn't….

"Karma, are you okay?"

I opened my eyes to find my mother's face etched with worry.

I looked down to find my hands clenching and unclenching.

I didn't even realize I was doing it.

She reached over and took my hands into hers.

I don't look at her, just at our hands as she spoke.

"Karma…I know you're hurting…but it's been almost a year. You can't go on living like this."

"I'm fine," I muttered.

"No you're not, Karma. I could tell at New Year's that your violent streak had returned."

"I am a violent person, this is nothing new."

"I know, but I'm just worried that…"

"Worried about what mother?" I cut her off and take my hands away from hers.

She looks at me with shock as I stand up, towering over her small frame.

"I haven't missed a single day of class nor have I gotten kicked out. I've been studying my ass off for my upcoming civic exams so I can pass with flying colors. And…and I can't even remember the last time I didn't punch something that wasn't my bedroom wall so tell, mother. What are you so damn worried about?" I was nearly shouting by the time I had finished, my hands balling up into fists by my sides.

I was shaking with so much anger.

How dare she worry about me? How dare she bring me these…ridiculous files.

I wasn't ready to even date and here she is putting potential wife material in front of my face.

I couldn't even imagine kissing another soul or even going to the movies with someone.

Not without thinking about him. About Nagisa.

And my mother knew that. She knew everything.

She finally stood up, smoothing out her long skirt.

She looked up at me and smiled. Like I hadn't just lashed out at her.

"Come on, let's head to the kitchen. I brought a new curry recipe I have been dying to try. If you've got the spices, I brought the rest."

She reached out her hand to me, like a peace offering.

I knew this was her way of apologizing.

So I took her hand and allowed her to lead me to the kitchen.

Where we would create something new together and mend the broken pieces of my heart at the same time.

Because the kitchen was the only place I would open up to her. And the only place where she would listen.

The next day, when my mother had left and there were containers of rice balls stuffed in my fridge,

I found myself walking to nearby park, where I would sit, broken in the rain.

Til an old friend would come and save me from my despair.

This chapter is more of a filler but I had it written and loved the idea that Karma's mother shows him how to be productive. And one of my headcanon is that Karma is an amazing cook. And who doesn't look Karma angst. Someone give him a hug, his mother is trying arrange his marriage.