Assassination Classroom Uniform Novels & Stories

“I needed an alibi and a way out of the business scene for good. That doesn’t count. From now on, all my assassinations will be done discreetly.” The seriousness didn’t last long when Nash started chortling at the “d” word. Discreet it is. “Well, do your best. Let’s see how discreet you can be in a dress.” I groaned. Trust Rush and Ignacio not to spoil my plans. Nash would never let me live it down after I’ve done it. I need to be careful not to have my pictures taken wearing one or Nash will pin it up to the wall proudly like a father who received his daughter’s first hand-drawn portrait.

I'd make them pay one by one. On the first day of school, I walked into the classroom in an old uniform that had been washed so many times the color had nearly faded away. The other students had on tailored navy blazers embroidered with gold school crests. The looks they gave me were the same looks people reserved for a budget airline passenger wandering into the first-class lounge. "Who is she? Why is she dressed like that?" someone whispered. "Did she walk through the wrong door?" Another person chimed in. I ignored them all.

"THIS IS... room 203-A? Ah, right." Alesteria look up from her schedule, the one Laroi gave her, as she looks up to the little sign by the door while any students are looking at her, who is wearing the academy's uniform. It looks so foreign on Alesteria, they noted. It was just a simple black uniform, with a plaid skirt and white long sleeve, a black tie, and black coat with the academy's patch sewed on the right side, pockets on each side of the coat and skirt.

No, he was all pure man. While I see him every day for my Math class, I doubt he noticed me at all. I'm pretty much just one of his many students. One more young woman in an endless sea of long hair . I existed in an ocean of khaki and plaid, the school's overly conservative uniform. Underneath, I decide to wear nothing when I have his class. Before his class, I always go to the ladies room and take off the bra. I loved the way my heavy cotton shirt rubbed against my sensitive nipples, and I hoped he'd notice the hard tips that ached for his touch.

he muttered, his voice still rough from sleep. “I did,” Azxel said in a whisper. “A staff came earlier, banged on the door. She said when you are up and you take me to breakfast, you’ll lead me to the seamstress office to get my ...uniform. Isn't that old fashioned? Why do they put that on?” Jaelen yawned, leaning back on his elbows. “Yeah, that’s very normal. Everyone wears the same thing here. It’s a safety school, so they use specific colour code so no one gets triggered.”

DALA As if existing wasn’t hard enough, I had to go to school. Today. “Wow! You really are nailing this student look!” Arya commented as I stepped into her room in my uniform. It looked prettier than I thought. The white shirt fit me like a glove, with a pleated skirt and vest of the same dark green shade— the same colour as the pack’s logo. Though I loved it, it didn’t make sense for a college to have uniforms.

It’s my first day, and I’m feeling a little nauseated. Once I was finished in the bathroom I dressed up in the academies mandatory uniform. It comprises a short, royal blue plaid skirt with a white-collar shirt and cream-coloured long sleeve sweater. Pulling on a pair of black, fingerless gloves, I’m glad for the sweater. That just saves me the trouble of trying to find a way to hide the tattoo’s on my biceps. Arriving at the academy I didn’t miss the glances or murmurs that flows with me as I propel my way into the domineering stone building, rather than ride in with Steven I choose to saunter down to the academy.

Maybe Issa had something to do with it, I was not so sure. The hall began to fill in with students with identical uniforms like mine. The only difference was that the boys had on trousers, while the girls had on short skirts. A couple of giggles erupted and I knew without looking that it was Leia and her cronies. I scoffed and slid down on my seat to avoid being seen. It was not like I was afraid of her or anything, she just seemed to love chaos and I was going through enough of that. An elderly woman with stark white hair tied in a bun and a serious expression on her face entered the class and stood on the podium. She has on a black turtleneck sweater with a long skirt that reached her ankl

“We’re here, Miss.” She was startled when she heard the driver’s voice and realised she had just been sitting and staring like an idiot. “Sorry. Thank you,” she mumbled, grabbing her handbag as she got out. There were students everywhere in the same uniform that she wore: black pleated skirts for the ladies and black trousers for the guys, white shirts, and they all had maroon blazers. She noticed, though, that the others had different-coloured trimmings around the lower sleeves of the blazers.

She knew I found it unnerving that a man would be the one to clean up my personal space. Standing at the mirror, I took one last look for the day at the school uniform I was wearing. Purple collar, sky blue shirt on top of a well ironed purple skirt. Not only was the uniform unique, but it was more beautiful than those of other high schools. In most cases, uniforms just made us teenagers look hideous but Regis' was cute. I removed the uniform and went into the bathroom to take a shower.