Crossover Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ You Knooow ❯ Mission Summary ( Chapter 1 )

You Knooow

Mission Report: Primary Surveillance Target identified, continued reconnaissance per mission spec. Subject, one Hikigaya Hachiman, ID: 47908-1A, descendent of targets 47912 and 32110, operatives of Belgian Secret Service and Milan Confederation. Subject HH attends classes since recovery from Hero Incident 12A (see attached report) with Subjects 51501A and B, in a Toyota Century (see attached photos) driven by agent Cecil Dax of Czech security service posing as limo driver, see attached After Action report. Subject appears fully recovered, matching medical report and in-house review of files and xrays. PTSD likely, subject has provided written material, see attached copy, indicating depression via sarcasm and a wish that all youth are a waste a time and should die if they like it so much.

Personal Note: as a teenage girl, this attitude is a huge turn off.

[Attachments]

Call me Issihiki, or even Iroha if we’re pretending to be friends. I like to pretend. I am an agent of a foreign government, France to be specific. Japan has always been full of spies, mostly due to its importance in the Cold War and strategic value in containing China and North Korea. Both countries are officially nuclear armed superpowers but probably a lot less effective than they’d like us all to think. I am a spy. I am not the only spy in Chiba City. I’m not the only spy at Soubu High School. My father is French, a spy who became a police officer in Paris until my mother died under mysterious circumstances under deep cover. I grew up with Yakuza bros until they killed mama so Papa killed them all.

Papa is very brave, though he has a huge nose because Papa is French. My nose, thank goodness, is not huge. I study it sometimes in the mirror, making sure it hasn’t suddenly gone French like Papa. Papa officially serves on the Chiba City police force as a detective. He is a loose cannon.

“You’re a loose cannon, Isshiki! The mayor chewed my ass, and now I’m gonna chew your ass, until there is no ass left to be chewed!” yelled the captain before the door shut and all the shouting was blocked off. I have seen enough movies from the 1980’s to recognize where this was going. Papa gets yelled at a lot, but he gets results, and he says he likes being a police officer in a country where accusation is good enough to keep you in solitary confinement for years till you confess or die. It is not very egalitarian or just of him to feel this way, but Papa is a spy and only goes after bad people, and yakuza. No one ever bothers me at festivals, because they know about Papa. Or think they do.

Papa is a good cook, because he is French. He has taught me so I am too. I can make sauces with cream, and cook with butter. I have boobs, which many of my classmates in school look at with jealousy. My hair is red, so people know I’m only Half Japanese, which makes me both attractive for not being the typical inbred Japanese girl everyone is so tired of, and disliked because I am half, so the jealous girls have put my name onto a petition to elect me the student council president. This is going to be troublesome for my cover identity as a ditzy high school girl. Teehee?

“Normal, huh? So that’s what you consider normal? You’re saying you won’t change, aren’t you?” I heard Yukino say quietly through the door. Sensei frowned. “You’re…umm…” Yukinoshita was obviously trying to hold back tears.

“Yukinon! Hey..,” exclaimed Yui in obvious distress. Sensei knocked on the door, then flung it open with a big fake smile on her face.

Shiromeguri eyed me, curious and cautious at intruding on what was obviously a delicate time in a very private conversation. I am not sure if I agree with sensei bursting in like this, but she stormed ahead. “I’m coming in. I’ve got a job for you guys. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” answered Hikigaya in his usual mumble. “What do you need?”

“Oh yeah. Come in,” sensei called back to us. Meguri sempai stepped in.

“We’d like your help on something,” Meguri explained.

“Shiromeguri sempai,” said Yukino. I stepped into the room then.

“Iroha-chan!” exclaimed Yui, finally able to find something happy to relieve the tension in the room, namely me.

“Yahallo, long time no see,” I greeted Yui. Hikigaya twitched, hating the Yahallo greeting, which is why I use it in his presence. It is better to irritate than be overlooked or forgotten.

The mood of the room is fragile and tense, and I can see that sensei just interrupted a very emotional moment between the three teenagers, probably something to do with their recent visit to Kyoto and the documented confession project between madgirl Ebina and dumbass Tobe Kakeru, an obvious reverse honeytrap between two agents and their respective countries orchestrated by Hayato and his double neg technique. Stressing Hikigaya again into personal sacrifice play had put the local baroness Yukino into shaking emotional turmoil, evidence that her feelings for Hikigaya were more than casual, and Yuigahama confused. And I still don’t know who she’s working for.

The trouble with all the spies in Japan is it is hard to recognize ordinary non-agent people, because you meet so many agents you get paranoid and think everyone is an agent. Sensei’s ridiculous Aston Martin, well outside her income as a high school literature teacher, implies all sorts of shady dealings but investigation mostly turns up poor life choices and astounding personal debt. She probably wasn’t an agent. Just financially clumsy and impulsive.

Shiromeguri and sensei have finished explaining my situation to the trio, who used the distraction to compose themselves.

“Candidate for student council president?” Yui summed up the situation.

“Yes. I bet you’re thinking I don’t look the part,” I teased Hikigaya using my Coquette #3 look. It usually worked on Papa, and my handler insisted I practice this for Honeytrap operations.

“Uh, not really,” he admitted.

“I get that a lot,” I whined. “So I can tell. People call me slow or thickheaded all the time.”

“Well, is there a problem?” asked Yukino. This from the daughter of a Diet leader, a powerful and corrupt politician. And she’s asking if being thickheaded is a problem. This sentence sums up a lot of what is wrong with Japan, and why there are so many spies here today, decades after the Cold War officially ended. Thank the North Koreans and Russians and Chinese for the ongoing operations. Sheesh!

“Isshiki-san is running for president,” reminded Shiromeguri. “But…uh…like… we’d rather she didn’t win,” she eventually said.

“Does that mean you don’t want to be student council president?” asked Yui.

“Yes, that is so,” I agreed.

“Then why run?” Yukino asked.

“The thing is I didn’t volunteer for the post,” I explained. And I do wonder if the petition was the action of an opposed spy agency out to sabotage my cover. Other than that one bank and certain driving ranges, there aren’t a lot of French speakers in Japan, after all. And I don’t exactly advertise I can speak it either, mostly via practice with Papa. “People entered me without asking.” And I cringe at the double entendre I just made. Being French, half French, I am allowed to use words that end in -endre. And make phrases that use them. Our sense of humor is world famous, along with the fact that they still call it Lingua Franca even if the Lingua Franca is now English.

I notice that Hachiman is making a face like his internal monologue is insulting me. I shall use this against him later. Or sooner.

“I stand out in a bad way, I guess?” I made a cute face while saying this. “I’m the soccer team’s manager and hang out with Hayama and the gang so I think I built up an image without even realizing it,” I went on, totally bragging and lying at the same time. The girls in the room gave me a loathesome glare of disgust and Hachiman continued his internal monologue, on some other planet again. He’s the assignment. Mine is not to know why.

“I have to say that is quite the elaborate prank,” Yukinoshita declared, her tone clear that it was childish and simple, like me. “I am pretty sure you would need at least thirty nominations to become a candidate.”

“That’s a lot,” agreed Yui.

“I’ll give the culprits a good talking to, of course,” assured sensei. Why does she seem competent sometimes, yet still makes bad purchase decisions and chases off men? It’s a terrible mystery. And one I’m not paid to resolve. I would not be shocked to learn someone else, some other spy, was given that assignment. Perhaps Miura or Ooka?

“If you don’t want the post, simply lose the election,” Hikigaya suggested in his low murmur. “What else is there?”

“Well, nothing except Isshiki is the only candidate right now,” said Shiromeguri sempai beside me.

“That means she’d need a vote of no-confidence,” realized Yukinoshita. Sometimes she looks like her mother. This is one of those times.

“But losing one would make me look super-lame,” I whined, using my dumbest tone. I swear I hate using this, because it makes me feel like a small dog or maybe furniture, but my handler insists this is just another weapon to use for my mission.

Hachiman made a thoughtful face. “Oh, do you know who is giving your campaign speech?”

“No,” I admitted. After all, I have people for that. A good psyops propaganda speech is specialist work. I’m field.

“That makes things simple, then,” Hachiman explained.

“What do you mean?” asked Yui.

“Basically we just need a way for Isshiki to lose the election,” he explained to her. “Or in the worst case find a way to lose a vote of no-confidence without losing face. In other words, people just need to know she wasn’t the reason she lost.”

“But is that even possible?” asked Yui.

“If she loses a vote of no confidence to an awful campaign speech nobody will hold it against her,” he explained. Silence. The faces at the table, especially Yui and Yukino were frozen in shock.

“And.. who will make that speech?” asked Yui finally. Yukino was now glaring at Hachiman. I raised an eyebrow. Just one. I practiced this in the mirror. Someday I hope to transition from dumb girl to femme fatale, like Dad’s girlfriend back in Paris. A very elegant lady.

“I do not like this plan, Hachiman,” decided Yukino. “Think of some other way.”

I sighed internally. Well, things like this were a good test of the Subject, and while my own team could fix the election easily, or write me speeches, getting the boy to develop his skills in this tame environment with minimal consequences for failure… this will be fine.

I made my exit while the club tried to figure out an answer. Lunch break was over, so I had to return to class anyway.