Some Teacher

(1.2) Cleaning time!

"Is that so?" Nagisa frowned. 

Then he did something—and though none of the students could say exactly what it was, all at once his presence was impossible to ignore. Slowly, all eyes turned to the small bluenette. "I don't think I'm that scary at all." 

"Nagisa-sensei!" Shirota said with a start, and the cigarette he'd been attempting to light fell from his lips. 

"You shouldn't smoke those," Nagisa told him with a stern, disappointed tone, and a frown to match. "They're a gateway drug that can wreck your body and lead to all sorts of seriously harmful addictions, not to mention putting you in major debt when you'll do anything to get your next fix. I want better than that for you, Shirota, and you should too." 

"Uh..." Shirota, unsure of what he could even say to that, picked up the cigarette that had fallen and tossed it into a nearby waste-bin. 

He wasn't really committing to anything, he told himself. After all, the remainder of the carton was still in his pocket. But he couldn't remember anyone telling him something like that before. Not about cigarettes being bad—he heard that all the time—but about wanting better for him. His fist clenched around the half-empty box in his pocket. He wanted to deserve that.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Now," Nagisa said. "You're all coming back to class with me, and once we get there, I have a project for us to do." 

There was a collective groan from the teens, but, however reluctantly, they followed Nagisa back to the school, dragging their feet and texting those who had opted against the movies that they'd better haul-ass to school because somebody snitched, and now they were all in hot water. 

There were few people in the halls, but those who were there stared at the group in shock and awe as they trudged by. Twenty or so delinquent teens, most of them not wearing their uniforms, led to class by a teacher who barely looked as old as they were. 

Nagisa led them all into the classroom, then took roll. The only person still absent was Kiya, which was unsurprising, as much as it disappointed her teacher. Anyone who knew her knew that after the first day of school, when she had to attend or else get kicked out, she pretty much never came to class.

"I'm impressed at how well you organized yourselves," Nagisa admitted, and he didn't even seem particularly begrudging to do so. "I don't know of many high-school classes that could get almost every student to cut class and go to the same movie theater at the same time, especially on only the fourth day of school. A skill like that is definitely something you could use for assassination."

There were some whispers among the assembled students along the lines of, 'did he just praise us for ditching?' and, 'he's really serious about the assassin thing, huh?' and, 'I wonder what that project he mentioned is. I hope it's not too bad.'

"Now that I've got you all back, however," Nagisa continued with a sly smirk, "we're going to get this place cleaned up." 

There was another, louder groan from the class. 

"Buck up, and quit complaining. I'm not gonna let you guys ditch anymore, as you may have noticed, and that means you'll be spending a lot more time in this classroom, so I'm sure you'd much prefer it if it didn't look like a trash heap."

"Maybe," Marihara scoffed, rolling sea-blue eyes behind red-framed glasses, forgetting she was in the front of the room for once and not just entertaining the back row. "But we're all trash, so it feels like home." 

There was a round of stifled laughter, to which their teacher responded with a sigh.

"Regardless, this room will be clean before you leave for the day," Nagisa said firmly, and then went to retrieve some cleaning supplies from the closet down the hallway. "This is your space. Don't you want it to be clean and comfortable? Besides, I'm not gonna let Ms. Hanji clean up this mess when the ones responsible are the ones most affected."