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Under Pressure

Summary:

prez: did anyone do it??

average nietzsche enjoyer: nope

maverick: no

cancer by mcr: i did the first few questions

fre sha voca do: obviously not

fre sha voca do: have you met me

prez: yes, unfortunately

fre sha voca do: rood

dorothy: i didnt know we had hw

humanallergy: i did the easy ones

prez: i hate that i expected this

prez: i’ll see you all in class
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There's a school with a reputation of being able to make anyone who enters succeed. That's true in the eyes of most people. Because the people who don't are pushed so far away they never see the light of day. The lowest class in the school, the D class is where they're sent.

But the school falls under new management, a principal who wants to change that but doesn't want to put in the work. So, why not send his super serious, super hard working, super over worked student council president who already does most of his work to teach them a thing or two about responsibility. This will be fine. Definitely not illegal.

Pressure makes diamonds after all.

Notes:

i take no credit for the idea!! i got the idea from a fic i read years ago back in my wattpad days, the creator deleted their account years ago so unfortunately i cannot credit them but i would if i could. i repeat: not my idea im just expanding on it

fic title is the Queen & David Bowie song and chapter title is Queen

first chat is from the future just a heads up

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Keep Yourself Alive

Chapter Text

Some schools believe in suspension for students they don’t consider up to par. Some schools believe when a student's grades fall too far below the average the students should get tutors. Some schools believe in expulsion when the student in question is ‘dangerous’ or damaging to the school’s reputation. That is not the case for this school, no, this school sends its problem children to a class that hardly pays them any mind. A class whose teachers are ashamed to be associated with them. A class who other students look at with pity and resentment.

 

The school’s faculty doesn’t pay this class much time of day believing it better to let them sink or swim by themselves in the deep end rather than teach them how to survive.

 

The school is a boarding school, the students are isolated and word can’t spread of how they dump the unwanted to a budget class with teachers who aren’t paid enough to prevent them from quitting their jobs when the students become unmanageable. 

 

The other students antagonize and push them away and the faculty seeks to push them under the rug and so they get their own small building separate from the rest of the main buildings, with a regular classroom, a teacher’s room, a home ec. classroom, a lab, a shed, and a small running track outside and they get their own dorms to further isolate them from the rest of the school.

 

And it’s been that way for years. Typically the class is small, small enough the principal hardly notices them and such had been the way for years but in a vain attempt to change how things are done, the principal decides to put the matter in someone else’s hands.

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Everyone is online

 

herlock solmes: anyone have the hw answers??

 

herlock solmes: pls im begging

 

fre sha voca do: nop

 

cancer by mcr: yup

 

herlock solmes: and they are??

 

cancer by mcr: a secret

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: HA

 

herlock solmes: after everything ive done for u

 

fre sha voca do: name one thing

 

herlock solmes: ur not in this conversation

 

maverick: uhuh

 

herlock solmes: i do lots for yall

 

herlock solmes: like emotional support

 

dorothy: you literally dont listen to anyone except oma?

 

herlock solmes: shut up

 

herlock solmes: i do not

 

herlock solmes: kork help me out here

 

humanallergy: with the homework or the slander?

 

humanallergy: cause i can only help with one

 

herlock solmes: pls say its the first one

 

prez: Do not say it's the first one.

 

fre sha voca do: omaaa heyyy

 

prez: did you all just forget I'm in this chat?

 

prez: hello Amami.

 

fre sha voca do: hiiii

 

dorothy: ha simp

 

fre sha voca do: shut up yumeno

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: wowww

 

maverick: aggressive much

 

cancer by mcr: guys we are all in the same classroom

 

cancer by mcr: stop texting

 

cancer by mcr: its annoying

 

dorothy: i agree

 

prez: class is about to start, you all.

 

herlock solmes: why aren’t u here yet? :(

 

prez: i’m heading over right now

 

prez: i was just helping another student out with a question

 

prez: and shinguji, don’t give saihara any answers.

 

fre sha voca do: HA sucker

 

herlock solmes: you didn’t do the work either asshole

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: oop callout post

 

maverick: angie you didn’t either

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: how could you kiibo :(((( 

 

prez: did anyone do it??

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: nope

 

maverick: no

 

cancer by mcr: i did the first few questions

 

fre sha voca do: obviously not 

 

fre sha voca do: have you met me

 

prez: yes, unfortunately

 

fre sha voca do: rood

 

dorothy: i didnt know we had hw

 

humanallergy: i did the easy ones

 

prez: i hate that i expected this

 

prez: i’ll see you all in class

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When he had first heard the principal’s idea he had thought it was insane, “I- I’m sorry can you repeat that just so I know I heard you right?” Being called to the principal’s office for most people would be a bad thing, for Oma Kokichi the student council president it was far from abnormal. He just assumed the principal would pawn more work off to him like he always does, which in fairness is what he's doing, he was just never in a million years expecting it to be… this,

 

“I’d like you to take over teaching the D class,” the principal repeated, poignantly ignoring Oma’s still expression, “Like I said, I think it would be a.. Good opportunity for you and it will be good for the students to have a role model their age whom they can rely on.” He wasn’t facing Oma’s way, instead gazing out the window where students are heading back to their dorms and talking in the fields, what Oma should’ve been doing instead of this, they’re already busy enough.

 

“...You do know I’m not a teacher, right?”

 

“I am aware, yes.” The principal adjusted his tie, loosening it slightly to allow himself more room to breathe before he continued, “You’ve been helping teach the class though so you’re already familiar with the students.”

 

That’s half true. Oma had been asked multiple times to help supervise the class and aid the teacher but it was only ever one or two classes in a day, not very often, and it counted as volunteer hours. They would hardly say they’re familiar with the students, they’ve barely talked to any of them for more than a minute. And, more importantly, “That doesn’t make me a teacher.”

 

“Oma, don’t be humble. You get the highest grades in the school. You won student council president by a landslide.”

 

“Still not a teacher. What’s really going on? Why are you so desperate?”

 

He dragged a hand down his face, sighing. Oma leveled him with a slight glare. Nothing ever gets past that boy, the principal thought, if anyone has ever been loyal to him it’s been Oma, maybe not loyal out of care but rather convenience but still loyal.

 

“Ms. Gotō quit and we can’t find anyone willing to replace her.” he conceded, shaking his head. Ms. Gotō was a strict woman who liked having things done a certain way, a way the stubborn D class refused to follow and refused to respect. She had quit blaming all her troubles on the students and scaring away any possible new teachers. New employees already didn’t want to join because of the location of the school, aka the middle of nowhere.

 

“Then find a new hire.”

 

“No one will agree. Look, I know it’s not ideal but this is the best option for everyone.”

 

Oma had a brief moment of conflict. Very, very, brief, “I have so much on my plate already,” he started again, sighing, and quickly added, “plus I can’t do that and my classes at the same time. It’s just not possible.” He tried to let him down easy, it would’ve been unwise to make an enemy out of the principal, otherwise they would have told them to keep their bad ideas to themself and walked out when he’d first opened his mouth in the first place.

 

“You’d do online classes so you won’t have to worry about attendance, and you’ve never had trouble getting work done before-”

 

“I’ve never had this much work before either. You can’t hold me up to that standard.”

 

“Your online classes will just have some small assignments to make sure you’re progressing well. And, there will be benefits for you, don’t worry. I’m not that merciless.”

 

“You’re hardly giving me a choice, aren’t you? I would call that merciless.” Oma tensed their arms which lay crossed over their chest, constraining their anger like a snake suffocating a poor mouse.

 

“You do have a choice-”

 

“Then no.”

 

“Just think about what you will be getting out of this-” he got cut off by a shrill knock on the door and one of the other faculty members Oma’s seen around the school poking his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, I have a student that needs to talk to you, sir.” He addressed the condolences to both parties but said the remainder to the principal.

 

“I’ll be on my way then.” Oma said curtly to the principal and just as he was on his way to exit his office the principal called, “Come see me when you want to hear more.”

 

Oma looked ahead and opened the door when his eyes caught on another familiar face: it was a girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes, Iruma he thinks her name is, and he nodded to her as he walked past. She nodded back, her attention flipping between him and the door but he was already well past her seat. The principal calls her in and he doesn’t think anything else of it.

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D class group chat

 

maverick, herlock solmes, cancer by mcr, and fre sha voca do are online

 

maverick: hey did you hear the gossip from iruma?

 

average nietzsche enjoyer is online

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: ooh the tea

 

cancer by mcr: not yet

 

herlock solmes: whatd she say?

 

fre sha voca do: ??

 

maverick: so apparently she got dress coded

 

fre sha voca do: again?

 

maverick: yup

 

maverick: and she got sent down to the principal’s office

 

cancer by mcr: just get to the gossip already

 

cancer by mcr: she gets dresscoded all the time

 

herlock solmes: ^^

 

maverick: i was just about to get there smh

 

maverick: so she was sitting in the waiting area for him to finish his meating

 

maverick: when Oma walks out looking pissed

 

fre sha voca do: ?? what was oma doing there??

 

cancer by mcr: amami he’s the student council prez ofc he was there

 

fre sha voca do: well i wasn’t thinking of that

 

herlock solmes: why were they pissed

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: like angry or like pissed? cause those r different

 

maverick: she said PISSED

 

fre sha voca do: omg all caps?

 

fre sha voca do: yikes

 

herlock solmes: why were they pissed?

 

cancer by mcr: anyone would be mad after talking to him

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: not mad PISSED

 

cancer by mcr: same diff

 

herlock solmes: >:(

 

maverick: theres more.

 

fre sha voca do: omg yess

 

maverick: so she had a fight with the principal right

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: as one does

 

herlock solmes: pls just keep going

 

cancer by mcr: ^^

 

fre sha voca do: ^ its to build suspense stfu

 

maverick: stop interrupting and i will

 

maverick: anyway

 

maverick: she had to finish all her homework in waiting area so they could keep an eye on her

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: creepy

 

fre sha voca do: mhm

 

maverick: so like an 45min later

 

maverick: Oma comes BACK

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: omg

 

maverick: and goes into the principal's office again

 

fre sha voca do: gasp

 

herlock solmes: what were they talking about?

 

maverick: she doesn’t know

 

maverick: she said when the office people heard oma and principal were fighting they kicked her out

 

cancer by mcr: they were fighting? really

 

herlock solmes: what about?

 

maverick: she couldn’t hear it was muffled

 

fre sha voca do: omg that is juicy

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: whatdyou think its about??

 

herlock solmes: it doesn’t make sense why oma would go back

 

herlock solmes: how long were they in there before fighting

 

maverick: guessing about 20 30 minutes

 

fre sha voca do: jeez how much homework did she have

 

maverick: so much shes in the a3 class

 

cancer by mcr: and only reason shes there instead of a1 is cause she sucks at anything not science

 

maverick: she actually woulda stayed a had she not kept getting in trouble

 

cancer by mcr: nvm then

 

average nietzsche enjoyer: saihara use ur detective skills to figure it out

 

herlock solmes: it doesnt work like that

 

fre sha voca do: whats the point havin them if they dont work

 

herlock solmes: also my uncles the detective not me

 

fre sha voca do: then why do we keep you around??

 

herlock solmes: bitch

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“A little birdie told me you had a fight with the principal,” Oma turns and sees a tall boy with green hair and too many piercings to count walking towards him from his spot against the wall Oma presumes he kicked off from. He walks with confidence, hands in his pockets, looking down on them in not quite condescension but something just adjacent to it, and a sweet smirk painted across their face. The smell of smoke clings to his clothes as he leans down to be at least a slither closer to their level and asks, “got anything to say about that?”

 

“Not to you, Amami.” Amami Rantaro, he’s spacy, a little smart, occasionally cocky, and the school’s resident drug dealer. That’s why he was sent to the D class. They’ve met a couple times, mostly when Oma was helping their, now ex, teacher but they’ve grown to be acquaintances after running into each other at lunch a couple times and one particular incident neither of them would like to be reminded of. “And I wouldn’t call it a fight,” Oma tells him, watching as he tilts his head like a dog (,he’s always been partial to cats), “just a disagreement.”

 

Amami visibly deflates a bit, there it is, he’s not as tough as he pretends he is. He’s always been an emotional person, much more than he likes people knowing, he pretends he isn’t but even the smallest thing can throw him off. He’s not a good actor, never has been. “You can at least tell me what the so-called disagreement was though?” he says hopefully like he genuinely believes Oma may, he doesn’t but the faith is nice.

 

“No, like I said. Not to you.” Oma smiles in a slightly standoffish way to give him the hint. He doesn’t take it. 

 

“What’d I ever do…” 

 

Oma doesn’t bother responding, knowing it would only add more fuel to the fire. 

 

There aren’t many people wandering the hallway at this time, most people have already headed back to their dorms or studying in empty classrooms or in the library. The fluorescent lights one of the old principals had installed have that horrible blue institution-like glow that drives all the students crazy, it’s making his head hurt a little.

 

Amami trails after him, just a little behind, as he continues his walk towards the staircase at the end of the hall. His shadow is faint, the lights overhead causing it to be pale and slightly misshapen, it doesn’t, however, change the fact he’s so much taller than them.

 

“Where you heading to?” Amami asks anyway, ignoring the fact he’s ignoring him. He considers staying true to his temporary, unofficial, vow of silence but ends up deciding against it after some consideration, he'll just keep asking.

 

“My dorm room.” Oma tells him hoping he won't keep prying into his personal life.

 

“Oh,” Amami says elegantly. His gaze trails off, losing sight of whatever's ahead of him instead occupied by thoughts Oma doesn't care to dissect.

 

Oma takes the stairs down one step at a time, Amami trailing behind him. They meet to walk side by side after the descent, Amami is significantly faster after all, long legs and all. Their out of sync footsteps echo on the tiles.

 

“What’s it look like?” He gets asked as he’s reaching for the handle of the door which opens out to the cobbled path that leads to the dorms (the classes A, B, and C dorms, specifically) . Oma stares at the boy quizzically, “What does what look like?”

 

“Your dorm room?” Amami asks, questioning his confusion like he didn't ask an unspecific question after at least a full minute of silence between the two of them.

 

“...” Oma stays silent, mulling it over.

 

“Hm?” Amami stares at him.

 

“... It's pretty basic.” He says finally.

 

“What? You embarrassed or something?” The infuriating dealer looks at him with an equally infuriating face, smug like he holds all the cards.

 

“No, I’m not! There's just nothing special,” There really isn't, he’s not lying about that. His room has a bed, dresser, bookshelf, everything that would come in a standard hotel room. If you ask him, nothing interesting whatsoever. Amami does not believe him, narrowed eyes staring down at him. Oma adds to be sure, “really.”

 

Amami hums, “Hm.” He doesn't believe him in the slightest.

 

“Why are you even curious? It's just a room.” Deflection, his best tool other than a complete shut down.

 

That makes the boy pause to think, “Well…” he trails off and doesn't continue. 

 

“Well?”

 

He just shrugs, “Felt like asking.”

 

If Oma were a violent person he would have tripped him.

 

They're almost to the entryway of the dorms now, (Oma's dorm, not the D class’s) the old building towers before them, one student used to the pressure, one student feeling crushed, the windows stare down.

 

Oma walks up the steps and Amami stays behind, at the bottom looking up from the ground. It's maybe the only time Oma is taller.

 

“I'll see you around, Amami.”

 

The green haired boy’s voice fades a little but he says anyway, “Yeah, see you.”

 

Oma doesn't focus on why he's frowning a little, almost an indiscernible amount but Amami’s always been an open book, when he says it instead thinking about the more pressing matter:

 

How the hell is he supposed to teach a highschool class?