In the corner of the classroom, to the back, sat Tayika. His chin propped in his hands, he took the paper passed down the rows and scanned through the questions. Name, gender, pastimes and a self-analytical paragraph were required of him. Boring. Then, he frowned. "The Dear Anonymous Project" was printed across the top of the form. He could not recall what the project was about. He had either chosen to erase it from his mind in the interests of space-conservation, or simply been absent when the briefing had been made. He could not remember which, and could not care less. It was no less tiresome and no more interesting for Tayika to fill out the form in spidery handwriting, answering the questions with biting candour, and making a few passing requests at the end. He put down his pen and waved the form in the air until the teacher came down the aisle to collect it, keeping his head down to scratch out a chemical equation he wished to test out. 

[i]It will be an explosive reaction...or a violent one[/i], he thought, satisfied, when he raised his head and noticed that most of the class had already deserted the almost-empty room. Tayika packed his bag, fingers flying over his desk to drop belongings haphazardly into his bag. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he loped out of the classroom with an easy gait, streaming into the corridor.