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Melisandre took a moment to take a good look at the other students before turning her attention back to the teacher, Mr D he had introduced himself as. She wondered how many of the other students were the children of villains, although from the looks of it it wasn’t many. She had missed the introduction stage of the class, and was thankful for that.

She nodded at the teacher and sat back. She started humming.

"So I'm gonna teach you all about music, like, whatever you wanna know about it I guess." He wasn't sure how to get his point across really, so he just tried his best. "Like I'm down to teach you about anything you want, as long as it's musical."

She smirked, raising her hand to ask a question.

Melisandre was looking down at her desk, using her finger to lightly trace an invisible pattern on the desktop. Despite not appearing so, she was paying close attention to what was being said.

Milo gasped haveing completed his scan useing the machine. He knew the girl was the kid of a villain but the machines battery died before it told him who. So he put it in one of his inside pockets and popped out of his jacket eating a bar of chocolate. He thought about something he could do for this class and thought of an idea. He raised his hand and asked “should we do a song explaining our heritage so you get to know us better?”

He noticed Amber's hand being raised. "Yes, uh, Amber?"

Isaiah entered the school after several days on leave. He was technically qualified to teach all subjects and was the ultimate relief teacher, but his true niche was physics. The chinese man walked to the staffroom wearing a sharp 2 piece suit, greeting his colleages and students warmly.

When he arrived at the staffroom, he put on his glasses- a plain, rectangular, black plastic frame- and began flipping through the massive pile of homework on his desk. 20 years of teaching in his homeland, Singapore- a place well-known for its competitive system and highly regarded foundational education- had made him an expert at marking scripts. His red pen flew across each paper, granting ticks and crosses where he felt they were due and annotating his comments on noteworthy responses to the open-ended questions.

By the time the bell rang, he had had enough time to devour the homework which would have taken a lesser teacher his entire time on leave to mark and Isaiah was sipping his homemade bubble tea (sweetened milk tea with grass jelly pearls), a remnant of a bygone youth in Singapore.

Isaiah put his bubble tea into the mini-fridge under his desk and picked up the stack of 30 scripts before making his way to class.

"At the end of the year, or something, could we perform something?" She dropped her hand soon after she startedspeaking.

"Yeah, you guys are totally gonna preform or something." Daron responded, answering his question.

Melisandre’s ears twitched as she heard the boy ask if they could preform a song about their heritage. Lovely She thought, beginning to fill with dread. She listened as the girl asked about preforming, still tracing the invisible pattern on her desk.