Deliquents| Assassination Classroom

Teaching Time

"Okey-dokey! Hey Class," Nagisa started, his smiling expression not wavering a bit, his smile genuine and pure as the blue hair on his head. "I'm your teacher in training, Shiota Nagisa. Pleased to meet you." He finished, being respectful as possible. He knows to earn respect, you have to show it first.

It's been seven years, Nagisa notes to himself.

"I'm way taller than I used to be..." Nagisa tells himself, almost as if he's recounting everything from over the years. "And I'm a beloved teacher." He continues to mentally chat. He breathes in through his nose, the smell that greets him isn't pleasant, it's not his students per-say but the classroom itself, smells faintly like trash even after the bleaching he knows the janitors did.

.

.

.

Only in his dreams though. Currently, he is sitting ——— No, tied in a silver-metal chair and contemplating life as about four boys crowded around him, like wolves cornering a small snake. Surprisingly he was impressed with their teamwork, they worked fast to subdue him. Good, they work well together.

Taking advantage of the fact that Nagisa looks like a girl, and he sounds like a small junior high schooler, they managed to ambush him, tied him to the chair, with no apologizes at all, mind you, and continued to mock him. Of course, the knot work was sloppy but Nagisa didn't attempt to remove his dainty wrists from the ropes, even though he could —he wanted to let them think they were in charge. To see how they would act when given the chance. The thing about being a teacher is - you have to know your students.

"A teacher in training?!" One of the boys with dyed green hair shouted. "Ugh." He groaned. His chocolate eyes were dulled, almost lifeless. Nagisa guesses that what he used to look like, back before Koro-sensei.

Back when his mother and father were split up.

Back when he was all alone, with no one to help or cry out to. No one to hug and no one to listen.

Just like them.

It's cheesy and cliche, he knows, but he does know for a fact he can help them if they let him.

"You gotta be shittin' me!" A brunette said. He looked at Nagisa was a mixture of awe and disgust that only Nakamura could really truly pull off on her beautiful face. He didn't look like the cursing type. But, hey, for all Nagisa knew he was a cursing kid who got into crap and made trouble wherever he went. It didn't do any good to make assumptions when he didn't know them yet.

"C'mon guys leave the poor girl alone!" A blond guy shouted from his seat in the back of the class. "C'mon!" The polite blond boy, was now Nagisa's favorite student and the rest of his class could pry that fact from his cold, dead hands. He sounded tired of his class' shit - and to be honest, Nagisa's patience only lasted so long before someone got hurt. Of course, he wouldn't really hurt them, but it was very tempting to kick them out of the class for the day.

The blond caused laughter from the girls sitting down. But the laughter didn't reach their eyes. Their smirks and smiles, and devious looking grins, only held so much emotion, before it faded from them, their laughter going silent as they went back to their game of cards.

Nagisa could tell. Nagisa could see the pain, how it festered from unhappiness to general sadness to anger to emotionless. It was a cycle, he was familiar with. And he truly believe he could make a change in these kids, maybe some of them were happy, and had a happy home life and maybe even weren't upset with their placement. But...

"Oh, shut up!" The guy with green hair crowding Nagisa replied, snarling like a wolf. A girl sitting down, bared her teeth in return, even though the green haired guy wasn't growling specifically at her. She seemed on edge and protective of the blond guy, Nagisa noted. Maybe they were close? They didn't look alike nor did they seem like it from body language, but maybe there is something beneath the surface that Nagisa doesn't see.