That's how mafia works

Last class

The problem class.

Every school has one. Some call it the last class, while others label it as the class for slow learners and late bloomers, although the only ones who use the latter are teachers forced to put on a facade. No one cares about that class. No one cares this class. No one. We're just here because we're still good enough to be in this school, but not good enough to be treated as students of this school. The losers class, if you will.

Though, I wouldn't say that I disagree with them fully. In this world where everyone is given with powers, everyone ones to be a hero, everyone wants to be special. The problem is, if everyone is special, then no one is. As a result of that, some people still have to exist at the lower echelons of society. After all, everyone knows that a hero's duty is to save people, and so there has to be people who's sole purpose in society is to be saved. It also meant that of those aspiring to become heroes, there were many who in the end would not qualify, and since schools only cared about those that were perfect, those who required a little more time or weren't as benevolent were sent to the last class. The loser's class.

It wasn't like I wanted to end up here anyways. To be fair, I did place fairly highly in the practical examinations the previous year, within the top 10 even. I did all in my power to get a higher ranking, so that I could get a higher ranking, and that's the problem the school had with me. Something about how a hero should not and cannot use others as a stepping stone to one's success. I admit that I did go slightly overboard in my means to ensure victory for myself, but I didn't think it was that serious, no one did get injured in the end, after all. However, the school still insisted that I had the wrong attitude towards being a hero, and wanted to expel me instead of trying to change the attitude that they find so inappropriate. That's probably the reason why so many gangs exist now, all the unwanted and unloved trying to find a way to become someone special.

Then again, I suppose I do owe these gangs one. After all, it was thanks to the ruckus that they were causing recently that allowed me to stay in this school. Due to recent attacks, heroes are starting to become short in supply, many retiring early to prevent their family from incurring the wrath of said gangs.

And that's how I ended up in the last class. A last chance for those that had made a mistake but wanted another chance or needed more time to learn. New teachers had been brought in for us too. 

The class was buzzing with excitement around me. I don't like that. The higher you aim, the further you fall. I sat in the corner of the classroom, surveying the scene of chaos that unfolded before me.

Two boys were fighting already.

This girl by the door was looking mad annoyed and kept reaching for an invisible cigar.

Loud laughter erupted from some part of the classroom.

You know, with the benefit of hindsight, maybe expulsion wasn't really that big of a thing in the first place.