Author's Note: Hello! It's been a while since I posted anything, and I realise that a lot of my works are sitting comatose in hospital, almost dead. I've been getting into a lot of new anime lately, and after writing some unfinished, unpublished fanfiction for them that has gotten back into dragging myself off my ass to get onto some of my old stories (namely the next chapter of my Soul Eater/Ouran fanfic "Secret of the New Host!", which I haven't finished writing yet nor do I know when it will be finished and published since I have school assignments to do as well, but I've finally gotten myself into the mindset of writing more, unblocked some of the writer's block, and written a bit more on it for the first time in a while, so I'm getting back into it again.) After getting totally obsessed with Assassination Classroom (I'm so dedicated I'm actually sewing my own Koro-sensei cosplay at the moment, seriously), almost exactly a year after I got into Code Geass (both of which are now my main anime obsessions), not to mention seeing a crazy amount of similarities between their two respective main characters (Koro-sensei and Lelouch) after reading about Koro-sensei's past in the manga and then seeing it in the anime, this poem was one of the formerly-unpublished ideas that I had written up and I really needed to get it out. Thus, I decided to post it since it was finished. I'm surprised that a crossover archive for these two finally exists, even if like one story was in it before mine as I'd checked the archives back in the early months of the year and no crossover archive for these two existed back then. So, I guess this brings the size of this archive up by one story.

This poem is a comparison/contrast between Koro-sensei and Lelouch's death scenes in a nutshell, pointing out not just how their character plots are similar, but also the ways they ended: basically, this poem is Assassination Classroom/Zero Requiem-centric. Thus, obviously there will be spoilers.

And thus, I hope you enjoy.

The Final Day

On the final day he stood,
a monster draped in inky black and red,
accepting his students' final thanks.
A man who spent his beginnings in solitude,
a man who lived his perilous life trusting in no one but himself,
hands stained with the blood of thousands.
A man who endured capture and torture, watching and feeling his own body mutate, as he slowly transformed into a creature inhuman.

He reveled in the power it granted him,
And because of so lost the woman who melted his icy heart,
but was also led by it to his final days surrounded by others.
A legend of slaughter who shed his death-stinking clothes for the robes of a teacher,
a man who accepted upon himself the mind of a cherishing mentor,
who set himself up as the enemy of every country for his goal,
the tentacle being who threatened to destroy the Earth.
The man who set the target of the world upon his own back.

On the final day he stood,
a demon draped in blinding white and gold,
awaiting his final fall from grace.
A boy who spent his beginnings amongst loved ones,
a boy who gathered the aid of others in his continuing advances,
hands stained with the blood of thousands.
A boy who had been sick of a world that couldn't be changed, who had begun feeling like a helpless spectator, as he became another face among the masses.

One day, power was granted to him,
and because of so rose up to soaring heights against his enemy,
but was also led by it to a final life of solitude, isolating himself from others.
A legend of the rebellion who shed his mask and cloak for the robes of an emperor,
a boy who forced upon himself the farce of a tyrannical ruler,
who set himself up as the enemy of every country for his goal,
the demon emperor who took over the Earth.
The boy who carried the hatred and burdens of the world upon his own shoulders.

Exhausted from his final duel, he falls,
and lays on the mountain grass, his final bed.
A man who passed through the tunnel of tragedy,
a master who endured betrayal and loss of purpose,
an educator who gave his shortened lifetime to find a purpose new,
waiting for the end to take him at last.

Tired from his secret toil, he sits,
and waits on the throne, his final perch.
A boy who passed through the tunnel of tragedy,
a leader who endured betrayal and loss of purpose,
a king who shortened his own lifetime to find a purpose new,
waiting for the end to take him at last.

Spread out, in the secure grasp of the children he gave everything for,
his reluctant executioner atop him, tightly-gripped blade dropping in a final bow,
a stab through the heart under the light of the evening stars and crescent moon,
in the company of his class and colleagues few.

Springing out of his seat in faked astonishment, standing alone in his last performance,
his reluctant executioner leaping up towards him, tightly-gripped blade charging in a final thrust,
a stab through the heart in broad daylight under the midday sun,
the entire hate-torn world as its witness.

His body dissipated around the wound, a shower of beautiful glimmers of light,
seeping from his academic robes as they emptied, ragged and worn,
and rising beyond the students' hands attempting to capture them,
slipping between their shaking fingers.

His body drained its life around the wound, a growing stain of sickening crimson,
tainting his royal robes as the weapon removed,
and he tumbled haphazardly to the platform below,
in the weak grasp of the sister he gave everything for, desperately clung to by her shaking fingers.

The face of the final killer salty and damp as he wept,
inky black and red cloth drowned in the tears of the other precious pupils,
The mask on the final killer hid his tear-stained face,
tainted white and gold cloth soaked in the blood of the brother and the tears of the sister,
As they grieved,
For the monster who died secretly a beloved instructor,
For the demon who died an unsung martyr,

He helped shape the futures of twenty-eight middle-school students,
He helped shape the future of a world with a past of war,

He etched his name into the hearts of his class,
He etched his name into the history books,

His hidden sacrifice and plan always remembered,
His hidden sacrifice and plan never forgotten,

The Assassination Classroom.

The Zero Requiem.

Completed on that Final Day.