Without much productivity, all I did for the past few hours were wasting it by theorizing a bunch of nonsense. Regardless of what Angel has said to me, it did not mean that I understood what to do immediately. In the end, as old habits die hard, I spent precious time on my desk listening to a mathematic lecture, yet to only be held captive by my mind. And to add to this exasperation of mine, my ears were forced to continuously pick up the swarming noise of teenagers. As they were giving little care to the lesson, they reminded me of how bees would buzz if they feel threatened.

Of course, I have not done anything to annoy them, there have not been any interactions between us whatsoever. But still, in the search of something one considers as funner, they began to trample, oblivious to their selfishness.

"As you can see, all you need to do is to divide this number..."

Yet receiving the noise with apathy was the mathematics teacher, standing in front beside the whiteboard. 

His facial expressions resembled those of Angel's, yet slightly different as his was lifeless which told me that he did not care much about anything else but his salary. His indifference then became more apparent as he picked up a marker and wrote an equation with one of the worst handwriting I have ever witnessed. This guy deserved this class’s behavior somewhat.

"Alright, now someone can try to solve this problem over here."

His handwriting which I initially had no idea what was about, turned out to be a single question. With no noticeable vigor, he pointed his finger towards the example, waiting for someone to answer his expectations. However, the volume of his voice was immediately drowned by the class's, deterring the students from responding to the math teacher.

After some time, the teacher stomached the student's lack of respect, knowing that they have not been listening to him. But it seems that he did not accept it fully as he let out a sigh.

"I see that all of you are knowledgeable enough about this topic. In that case, let us have a short quiz."

There it is! One of the deadliest weapon in a teacher's arsenal! The "I’ll give you a quiz since you’re so smart" technique!

And its effect was beyond effective as every opened mouth closed, chanting no longer. In response, all they did was bow down their heads without the courage to look up towards the angered authority. It was such a classic scene.

The math teacher then let out another sigh as to relax out of his previous state, calming his nerves after knowing that he had brought the class down to control. He then continued what he had priorly intended to do by repeating the same question.

“Alright, now. Who can answer this?”

In response, the class which was already silent before was silenced further. With no eagerness to speak up whatsoever, everyone kept turning their heads left and right, waiting for someone to sacrifice themselves for the betterment of the class.

There it is! One of the deadliest weapon in a student’s arsenal! The "Look around and pray" technique!

However, by hoping that someone would take the bullet and save them from the possibility of getting shot, they made a significant blunder. There will not exist a savior if everyone was expecting the same thing.

“If no one wants to volunteer, I guess I’ll pick one of you.”

As I have foreseen, the technique missed its mark and failed to free them from the grip of the equation. And now left with no weaponry, their backs were leaning merely on fate. The fate which was ruled by the hands of the math teacher.

Suddenly, the teacher’s flat expressions spiked, indicating that he has picked his victim. As he gradually lifted his arms to point at the already chosen, everyone’s anxiety visibly grew with every elevation. After reaching the optimal height, his finger stopped and directed itself straight, setting the trajectory of his command. With little to no pause, the teacher then let the cannon fire.

“Ronald, why don’t you give a shot?”

The line of the shot almost hit me, but it appears that the teacher was aiming towards the boy sitting in front of me.

“Huh?!”

With a fluctuating tone out of his throat, Ronald expressed his shock of getting chosen. And reluctant to abide, he turned his face around to meet his classmate’s eyes, unable to decline vocally. It too was also a desperate measure to tell his friends that he did not know of the answer, asking for help through the action. However, those around him did not notice his state of panic, only to raise their once downed heads. The only thing that was replying Ronald was their relief of not getting picked.

As his last resort was not in the least helpful, he was not able to voice anything of substance.

“Uhh... I-i...”

“Come on, this ain’t rocket science.”

Yet with zero empathy, the math teacher did not seem to acknowledge his student’s distress. Instead, he downgraded his student’s morale with his comparison, implying that the equation was supposed to be easy.

How difficult is rocket science anyway?

With his confidence pummeled to dust, I could see that Ronald was ready to surrender. As his mouth opened, I knew that whatever came out of his tongue would not be the answer to the teacher’s question. His perspiring forehead told me so.

And seeing that pathetic show, I contemplated.

"Ck, is this what Angel meant by fixing? Was it to help someone I barely knew anything about? Shit, I can’t even remember having a Ronald in my class."

Because usually, I would not have cared in the least for whoever got into trouble due to their own incompetence. Even if this Ronald argued that he was picked out of bad luck, it would not have mattered if he had listened to the lecture. This Ronald... was not my responsibility.

But in that instance, my eyes looked towards the boy once more. His lips looked comparable to the milk carton Angel had crumpled, wrinkling as if he was about to cry in mere seconds. With his eyes widen, he resembled the look of a pleading puppy. One that was hoping for help in order to keep his dignity.

Is it that difficult to say "I can’t do it"?

All he had to do to free himself from this burden was to declare that he cannot solve the problem. And after that, the teacher would probably let him off with only a tad bit of disappointment. What’s the worst thing that could happen? If anything, you’re just going to get ridi…

I see. So that’s what you’re afraid of.

“So are you going to come up here and answer? Maybe not?”

Without mercy, the teacher continued his mission to shatter Ronald’s esteem, now throwing the dust of his confidence down the trash chute. And as if that was not enough, there was not a single person coming to his aid. The world was relentlessly pressuring him to give up. As it was starting to be unbearable, Ronald gasped for air, seemingly ready to let everything go. However, for whatever reason, I have not.

Damn it.