Nonsense.

Saints hand is the medic of the school providing most of the critical aid needed by staff or students. When not focusing on healing his main job is managing the school, Which of course is a large task. On the very first day, he was left with a pounding headache. If anyone were to see him, they would question why there's smirk on his face. He was proud of his decision. Today didn't go as planned, but the docomments in front of him did not care. Letting out a sigh, he picked up a pen.

"Zengo!" Screamed Saint.

The door creaked open, its motion slow and eerie. A head peaked through the crack.

"Yes?" Zengo asked.

All emotions are hidden behind those old antique sunglasses, they gleamed and shone with brilliant light. 

"Since you're here, why don't you help me with this?"

"But I was just going to check up on my student."

"By student, you mean the nameless boy?"

"That's correct."

"What a Coincidence, why don't you take a seat." Saint handed the pen to Zengo. "I was just about to go check up on the boy."

Saint left Zengo sitting in front of a stack the size of a wolf. In Fact each and every one of the papers was delicately sorted into a one to one replica of a gray wolf. It appeared forbidden to touch, as though it should be put into a muslim.

It wasn't hard for Saint to find them, but what surprised him was the scene of devastation in front of him. The second thing to surprise him is Grant, a man he has known for years, new fashion statement. With grants dark red hair, and shirtless body filled with muscles, he was starting to wonder if he needed to get his eyes checked.

"Grant?" Asked Saint's hand as if he didn't want to believe.

"Phill, I mean Saint's hand. What brings you here." 

In just a single moment Saint's hand vanished, and appeared behind Grant slapping him on the back.

Boom.

Grant didn't even react before he was in the air, he only started catching up when he found the floor to be one with his face.

"You know what I always tell you old friend, My name is Saint's hand."

Grant murmured in the dirt.

Saint's hand turned towards the boy who had no name. 

"Boy, what do you plan to do now? I'm sure you know as well as I, that those kids are traumatized."

The boy made an awkward laugh.

"I don't even know what happened, at one moment I was fine and the next I got stabbed and woke up here."

"So you plan to continue?"

There is a glimmer of strength and sturdy conformation in his eyes. 

"Yes."

"All the better to me."

Saint's hand walked away.