There was silence. No one could speak, no one could even think. They could only stare at the smiling man before them, who stood behind the vandalised desk calmly.

"Wh-What the hell?" Spluttered Yoshida Toshiharu, clenching his fists as he found himself unable to move from his chair.

The man looked at him and laughed awkwardly. "Sorry, did I scare you?" He asked lightly.

Yoshida slowly stood up from the chair, his limbs heavy and limp by his sides, as he stared at the trainee teacher. "You're not human," He whispered, his lackeys quickly rushing to his aide.

"No, I definitely am," Promised the trainee teacher. "What, I haven't suddenly grown tentacles, have I?" His smile wavered briefly, but it didn't fall from his face as he looked across the classroom with piercing, azure eyes. "I'm Shiota Nagisa, your new trainee teacher. And, starting from now, we're cleaning up this room."

The students all risked a glance to each other. They were on edge. This man was only just over five feet, he looked scrawny and breakable, but he had terrified them. And he had given them a challenge.

"I hope you can kill me. Before graduation, that is."

Slowly, the students all straightened up, trying not to let the fear show as they looked down on their new teacher. However, the man didn't seem scared in the slightest. "I'm not against any of you calling me Shiota-sensei if you want to be formal, but I'll be happier if you could all refer to me as Nagisa-sensei. It'll make this place feel a bit more open."

Yoshida stared, looking the teacher up and down. His classmates turned to him for instruction, and so did the man, fixing him with a happy yet threatening stare. Yoshida swallowed fearfully. "Whatever," He grunted, raising a hand self-consciously to his neck. "Do as he says, you idiots."

His command was instant and the boys obeyed their leader. After all, not doing so could get you hurt.

Life at Paradise High school was a nightmare. And Class 3-5 was for the worst of them. Everyone there was a bully or a thug and proud of it. They followed their leaders' orders to the letter because he was the strongest and meanest of them all. Cigarettes were swapped during class, alcohol was snuck in and, once, they had even tried drugs. Last year, they had scared away their original teacher, and the school had panicked. All of the subordinate teachers refused and none of the upcoming trainees volunteered, except for one. The first teacher to get the class to do what he said. And he didn't stop smiling when he sat down and opened up the role book.

"Let's take attendance while you work, hmm?" Shiota-sensei said brightly, as the students hurried to get the cleaning equipment. "Aozora Nobuharu?"

Aozora Nobuharu, a boy with plenty of spots and piercings on his face, chipped, grubby nails and greasy black hair looked up. He squinted at the teacher for a second, and then replied, "Here!"

Shiota-sensei smiled and looked at him. Then, he turned back to the book. "Domen Toshiyuki?" He called.

"Here, Shiota-sensei," Domen Toshiyuki answered. He was wrapped in bandages, for he had defied Yoshida's' orders a month ago and had just gotten out of the hospital in time for the new academic year.

"You look like you got in a fight, Domen," Shiota-sensei observed, tilting his head.

Domen clenched his fists and looked at Yoshida briefly. However, he didn't say a word. He kept scrubbing at the graffiti on the wall.

"Fujikawa Kiyotaka?"

"Here," Growled Fujikawa Kiyotaka, a boy with an orange mohawk and a chubby face. He had been one of the first students to bully their new trainee teacher. He was pale and hiding now.

"Futaki Shusui?"

Futaki looked up blankly at Shiota-sensei. "Here, sensei," He said softly, before returning to work. No one really knew why he was in Class 3-5. He never did anything with the group.

Shiota-sensei kept calling role calmly and soon reached the very last name. "Yoshida Toshiharu?"

Yoshida slammed his bucket of cleaning fluids on the teachers' desk aggressively and glared. "Here."

It didn't even phase him. Shiota-sensei just smiled. "It's good to finally have some faces with these names," He said politely, standing up. Even though he was smaller than all the students, there was a cold-blooded presence in that movement, like a swift, venomous serpent standing up to a clumsy, roaring lion. It was obvious who had the power in the room.

The classroom door swung open, making the students jump and Shiota-sensei sit down again. "Hello," He greeted the new arrival. "Can I help you?"

In the doorway was another teacher, definitely older than the trainee, who looked around in a panic that was quickly moving into confusion. "I-I'm sorry," She said breathlessly. "I heard a noise and thought something may have happened. S-something bad-"

Shiota-sensei wafted his hand lightly. "Oh, sorry about that." He laughed awkwardly. "We're just having a bit of a tidy up, so that might make some noise."

The female teacher hesitated before bowing hurriedly. "Right, yes, I'm sorry. I'll get going now." She quickly left.

"Hurry up, kids," Shiota-sensei called out, breaking the students from their stunned haze. "The more of this room we clean, the more we can talk about ways to kill me."

That word set the students off again. Instantly, they started scrubbing away at the graffiti as if their lives depended on it.

Because, thought Yoshida, he makes it seem like they do.

.:*:.

By the end of the third period, the classroom was spotless. The graffiti had been scrubbed away, the desks had been sorted out, the windows were washed and the chalkboard was ready for education.

As the students took their seats, Shiota-sensei left his and picked up the chalk stick, holding it up to the blackboard. He hesitated briefly and then wrote down two words. He turned to the class. "What does this say?"

"The Reaper," Responded the students.

Shiota-sensei nodded. "Who here knows who he is?"

No one responded. However, Shiota-sensei seemed satisfied with that answer.

"Good," He said firmly, turning back to the board and rubbing it out. He then held up a copy of the timetable and ripped it in half. "We won't be needing this, then."

The class all looked at each other and then turned back to the trainee teacher as he began to draft a new timetable before their eyes on the blackboard. "These are skills that will really help you," He promised. "Conversation skills, survival techniques, camouflage, knife skills and the rest. The useful stuff."

Slowly, the students began to grin. This, they could work with.

"But," Shiota-sensei said, "We will still learn everything else." He picked up the timetable he had ripped and took it to his desk, taping it back together. "I'm sure we'll have enough time before graduation."

Instantly, the mood was killed and the class lost their smile.

Shiota-sensei wiped the new timetable off the board. "For the final period, though, we'll be discussing something more interesting." He wrote five words up on the blackboard, making his handwriting as large as possible.

How to assassinate Shiota Nagisa.

"You have until graduation," Their teacher announced. "Once we set some ground rules." He turned back to the board. "Rule one, it will be a fake assassination attempt. No real knife or gun is allowed to be used. Rule two, this stays between Class 3-5. If a single rule is broken, and the deal is off."

Yoshida glared. "What's in it for us?"

"What do you mean?" Laughed Shiota-sensei. "I thought a group like you would love the chance to assassinate a real teacher, even if the actual act is fake. Besides, it'll be a fun challenge, won't it?"

Futaki looked up at the small teacher. "I'll do it," He decided softly, speaking his first sentence before the class. "I'll assassinate you, sensei."

Shiota-sensei smiled, looking him up and down. "You're welcome to try."

At the back of the class, Yoshida stiffened. He would never be able to hear those words the same way again. Not anymore. Not with that memory still fresh. He could still feel the finger against his neck and the hand that twisted his jaw to the side. He could still hear that rining clap and the soft, calm way the teacher had said 'kill'. And he could still see the way the mans' eyes lit up and the role book falling through the air silently.

It made his heart beat faster and his mind race. Everything else moved in a world far away from him. Yoshida could only see that memory, replaying in his mind so agonizingly slow that he had time to memorize every single detail. That smile. That smile was one of someone completely prepared to kill him. The smile of a snake.

Then, the memory stopped playing. The tension was swept away. He was sitting in Class 3-5, looking dead ahead, and Shiota-sensei was standing in front of him, a finger pressed to Yoshida's' forehead.

"Don't stress out over it, of course," The teacher was saying, as Yoshida's' conscious stopped overworking. "It's like I'm going to blow up the Earth."