It all felt so surreal. The sand beneath his feet, keeping him still yet making him unsteady. The faint taste of salt in the air, the fresh wind blowing past him. The steady flow of red blood down his uniform that stained the golden sand a deep crimson. The soft breathing of the small boy in his arms that fought to stay awake. [Armin Arlert goes to the sea. Major Character Death!]

In this classroom, I was the boss. Or so I thought.