A/N: Hi! I know I've been gone for like, forever (At least that's how it felt) But I have TONS of new stuff that I've been working on, mostly Kuro shinigami stuff like this, because, I am minorly obsessed. So, for anyone who has suscribed to me as an author...I am so sorry. I am about to bombard your inbox. If it makes you feel better, I have exams starting tomorrow so I won't be able to update as much!

As for this story, I just love Ronald so much. I wanted to give him a little bit of love, although I end up abusing him a lot more than I meant. I hope I didn't completely destroy his character.

If I owned Kuroshitsuji, it would be called The Shinigami Show. Gosh, that would be awesome. Now, on with the story!

Ronald drummed his fingers on his desk. He hadn't realized he had come to the class so early, or he would have played a last round of poker with his friends in the Academy hall.

He looked at his notification once more, even though he'd memorized it for the billionth time. Mr. Knox, for failing to achieve a B average on your final exams, we unfortunately cannot give you the final reaper test. If you have any desire to continue your career as a reaper, you are hereby required to attend remedial lessons, and afterwards make up the final exams. He had received this exact same letter 6 previous times, and failed the exam each time. He was getting better, sort of. He wasn't getting straight F's, like the first test.

"Ronald?" Ronald looked up, to see the face of Alan, one of the people in his dorm at the Academy. Alan was extremely shy, so he and Ronald didn't hang out much, but it was good enough to see a friendly face.

"Alan! C'mon, sit next to me, what are you doing here?" Alan complied and sat next to Ronald.

"Same as you, remedial lessons." Ronald frowned. Alan was a year younger than him, and should have been a class below him if Ronald hadn't failed so many times. However, even Ronald knew Alan was supposed to be some kind of genius. Seeing the confused look on Ronald's face, Alan explained, "I flunked the practical portion of the test, all right?"

Ronald nodded. "Well, there are worse things." He told the younger man. Like flunking EVERY portion of the test he thought to himself.

"So, how do these things work?" Alan asked as other flunkies began filing into the classroom.

"Well, we each get assigned a mentor to help us with our specific area of study. They'll tutor you, make sure you're up to par, and then send you in for your exams." Although Ronald had taken the test 6 times now, he had had 9 different mentors, as 3 of his mentors had dropped him even before he had taken the final test.

Alan sat on the edge of his seat, eagerly awaiting his mentor assignment. Ronald watched him for a few minutes, amused. He was sure a flunking grade was devastating to someone like Alan. It always was the first time. He himself had become numb to the pain of failure.

Finally, a tall reaper with a large handle bar mustache came in. He began the general routine about how they needed to work extra hard, and that their failure would not be accepted in the reaper division, etc. etc. Ronald had heard it all before.

Then, he began handing out mentor assignments. It was in alphabetical order, so Alan got his before Ronald. The card read 'Eric Slingby.'

"Oh, you're lucky, he's one of the good ones," Ronald said, "Most of these guys have their scythes sticking out of their asses. He's at least a bit of fun." Eric had been Ronald's fourth mentor. He hadn't worked out either, but at least Ronald had gotten a friend and drinking buddy out of the arrangement.

Alan bit his lip, "I'm not exactly a fun person."

"You'll be fine." Ronald reassured him.

Finally, the mustachioed reaper made his way back to Ronald. Handing him his card, Ronald read the name quickly. "William T. Spears," he read aloud to Alan. "I wonder who he is?"

Most of the mentors came down to gather their pupils. Ronald saw Eric come down and waved him closer. "Yo, Eric, yours is over here!" Alan shuffled nervously.

"Don't tell me they assigned me to you again, Ronald," Eric said shaking his head, but he did have a smile on his face.

"Nah, you're stuck with this guy right here." Ronald said, putting his arm Alan. Alan refused to look in the taller man's eyes. Ronald thought for a split second that he saw Alan blush but he ignored it.

"H-hello, Mr. Slingby, sir." He muttered. Eric smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Loosen up, kid." Eric said, punching him on the arm. "What's your name?"

"Alan Humphries, sir."

"All right, Alan, we'll get goin' then. Hey, maybe the three of us can hook up for drinks later." He nodded at Ronald.

"I'm game!" Ronald said.

"Great, who'd you get, anyway?" Eric asked Ronald. "Maybe I can get to them before Bentley does, huh?" Mr. Bentley was Ronald's 2nd mentor, for about 2 days. He hated Ronald with a passion and had poisoned mentors 5, 6, and 8 against him.

"I don't know him personally, someone named William T. Spears?" Eric grabbed the card from Ronald.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Eric said, mostly to himself, "I didn't think he took pupils."

"You know him?" Ronald asked.

"Know him!" Eric said incredulously. "He's just the Dispatch Manager!"

Ronald looked stunned at his friend for a moment, wondering if this was a joke. "What? Why on earth would the Dispatch Manager take in me as a pupil?" Eric shrugged. "Well?" Ronald asked desperately, "which one is he?" Ronald motioned to all the other mentors around the room.

Eric took a brief scan of the room. "I don't see him. He must be—"

"Mr. Knox?" the mustachioed reaper was back, and for half a moment, Ronald wondered if this was Mr. Spears. He realized immediately that was ridiculous, but he also realized even though he'd taken the remedial class 6 times now, he never found out this man's name.

"Y-yes?" Ronald asked. The man shoved a stack of papers in his arms.

"Mr. Spears is preoccupied at the moment and was unable to meet you. However, he requests that you go and meet him in his office. He left this set of directions." The man pointed to the paper on top.

"'Kay." Ronald said. "Hey Eric, what's this Spears-guy like?"

Eric was about to answer when the other reaper said, "Mr. Spears instructed that you are to leave now, Mr. Knox."

"All right, all right, I'm going!" He gave the directions sheet a last look and walked away. As he reached the doorframe, he looked back at Alan and Eric, but they had already forgotten him. Turning back he walked down the silent hallways.

He finally found the door, but was surprised to here voices inside.

"Sutcliffe, sit down!"

"I AM sitting, Will darling!"

"On a chair, please."

"Ah…but that's no fun."

"Honestly, the new pupil will be here any minute and you—"

"I won't cause any problems, Will, I promise!"

Ronald, guessing this was his cue, (and insanely curious about this 'Sutcliffe' with a weird sounding voice,) knocked on the door.

"Enter." The first voice said.

Ronald did as he was told. Inside, he found a tall, dark haired man sitting at his desk and typing away incessantly. However, his eyes were instantly drawn to the other—man? He was sitting on the edge of the desk, waving his legs in the air, with long, blood red hair that came to his hips and red high heels and red bow. (A/N this is before the Madam Red thing, so no red coat.)

"You must be Mr. Knox," The dark-haired man said, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Umm, yes." Ronald said, wondering why William didn't even bother looking at him. The other man was scanning him up and down, and smiling as though he wanted to eat Ronald. He had to admit he was a little freaked out.

"My name is William T. Spears. This is my associate Grell Sutcliffe. As the dispatch manager, my duties do not allow me extraordinary amounts of free time with which to tutor you, so Mr. Sutcliffe will help with some of your studies."

"Ohhh, don't worry!" Grell suddenly leaped off the desk and took Ronald by the hands, "We're going to be the best of friends! Now, what's your name, darling?"

Ronald stammered for a moment in shock before he got out the word "R-Ronald."

"Mr. Sutcliffe, please stop scaring him." Spears said.

"I am not scaring him!" Grell went back to his place on top of Will's desk. "Oh, Will, the both of us mentoring him, showing him the works! He's like our love-child!"

Ronald backed away instinctively and looked panicked to Mr. Spears, although he seemed to take Grell's statement completely in stride.

"I would ask that you not make such ridiculous statements, Sutcliffe. Some people might actually think you were serious. Anyway, Mr. Knox, your studies will begin immediately." Ronald's shoulders immediately dropped. He knew what that meant. Books, and many of them. He was sure he had read all of them during his first remedial course, but that didn't stop every other one of his mentors from forcing him to read them again. "Sutcliffe, you're sitting on it."

"Oh! Sorry!" Grell stood up again and pulled out a pile of paperwork that was underneath. He handed the stack to Ronald who looked at them quizzically.

"Mr. Knox, you will fill these out and hand them in to me by the end of the day. Should you require any assistance, feel free to ask Mr. Sutcliffe or myself. You may take the free desk across the hall next to Mr. Sutcliffe. Dismissed."

Ronald was thoroughly shocked. This was a death report! After knowing him for all of two minutes, Mr. Spears entrusted him with a death report? He and Grell left the office and Grell showed him his desk. "Umm, Mr. Sutcliffe?" Ronald asked sitting down.

"Hmm?"

"Is this a real death report?"

Grell gave him a sarcastic look, "No, Mr. Spears took time out of his busy schedule to write up a fake report and forge a cinematic record for you to check on just for you to fill out that report. Of course it's real!" Grell gave him a light tap on the arm.

"Oh." Ronald smiled to himself as he began to read the report. Mr. Spears must really trust him to give him a real death report. Maybe—he thought—maybe this mentor would be different.

"Mr. Knox, this paperwork is of horribly poor quality. Please fill it out again."

"But that will take all night!"

Finally, Mr. Spears looked directly into Ronald's eyes. The look told Ronald quite clearly that he did not care.