"Absolutely not."

"Y-yes, sir." Wait, no. That's not right. That's not what Scythe was going to say! But the words that came out of his mouth earned him claps and cheers from the class. Somebody was doing something to him, but somehow the validation eroded his already weak defenses. He could feel the desire to be useful overriding everything else.

Obediently, Scythe stepped forward with the host to stand in front of the class. "Allow me to introduce our guest," the man said to everyone. "Scythe here is actually a boy, despite how he looks! Isn't that right, Scythe?"

"Yes, sir."

"And do you know why I emphasize that point, Scythe?"

"No, sir."

"Isn't it obvious?" He stands behind Scythe and puts both hands on those slender alabaster shoulders. "Boys aren't supposed to wear dresses, are they Scythe?"

"N-no..." Scythe tries to protest, to resist in any way. But as his eyes widen and faint spirals appear in their ruby red depths, his words run counter to what he believes. "No, sir... boys aren't supposed to wear dresses, sir..."

"In fact," the man continued, once again barely waiting for Scythe to finish speaking, "I bet many of you in class doubt Scythe here is a boy at all!" Murmurs filled the room, seemingly coming from those inert cardboard cutouts that were all still facing forward. All facing Scythe...

"So I think you need to prove that you're a boy." He pushed Scythe forward. "Lift that dress of yours up and show them, Scythe."