Trignometry, Terrorism and Some Time Left for Tea

by ziggerastica

Notes:

This is a silly little something I wrote a couple of years ago, and I felt it was time it went out into the world. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: In which the Akatsuki's only trace of Sanity departs across the Atlantic

Notes:

Here I present Yahiko dying, and Nagato giving in to Dark Thoughts in the midst of his (her) grief. Except they're teenage girls and live in Essex.

 “BYE, YUKI!”

The girls called after their classmate one more time, waving wildly before turning to trudge back to their classroom. Agatha lingered a moment, fingers skimming the gate as she watched the Volkswagen carry her friend down the road. One last flash of orange hair and she turned the corner, never to be seen again.

 Who would want to move from Essex to West Virginia?

The reality of the situation still hadn’t fully registered in Agatha. She, Yuki and Konan had always been the trio; ‘always’ being the two-and-a-half years of secondary school they had lived so far. Now she was gone, on her way to the aeroplane which would carry her across the Atlantic and away from Agatha forever. They hadn’t even had a chance to walk the high street together one more time; Yuki’s early flight left them no choice. It would have been significant to end their companionship with a classic after-school boba, just like they ended every half term. A box of Celebrations had had to suffice.

 Agatha felt a gentle hand rest on her shoulder, brushing the red hair that cascaded down her back. The corner of Konan’s lip pulled in an attempt at a smile, eyes also saddened by the loss they had both sustained today. The paper flower in her hair was crushed by the amount of hugging that had been done; and mascara-tainted tear tracks stained her cheek.

 

 Shaking her fringe over her face to hide the tears brimming in her own eyes, Agatha followed Konan back into the school building. Most girls were still in lessons, but the head teacher, a.k.a. her Uncle Minato, had been kind enough to give their class thirty minutes off last period to bid Yuki farewell. 

 The door of Mr Kakuzu’s class swung open, and the two girls lumbered inside. The rest of the girls were crowded around the display board at the front of the class; the one decorated with ten laminated red clouds, each inscribed with the birthday of one of the students. 

 The red cloud was their crest; Mr Minato had encouraged each class to choose one. The Year 11s had chosen a leaf, a sign of growth, which Agatha thought was cliche. But of course, head girl Rin Nohara was a member of that class, and she was into that kind of thing. The red cloud was unique, on the other hand; all of them liked the colour red, for starters, and Heidi’s eager suggestion of a blood splatter wasn’t exactly acceptable. The cloud, allocated by Yuki herself and intricately designed by Suzie, seemed more mellow.

 

 Heidi stood on a chair with a black sharpie in hand before the display board. Her face was littered in an array of plasters and star-shaped pimple patches as usual, and her eyes alight with characteristic feral hysteria. She was the gremlin of the class, and was currently vandalising Yuki’s birthday cloud with a ‘date of death’ alongside the date of birth. 

 “Farewell to our dear partner-in-crime, Yuki! We’ll all f-”

 “Language, please,” Suzie interrupted from behind her, knowing very well Heidi’s tendency to swear.  She clamped her hands over the ears of Deirdre, who was busy picking clay out of her nails. 

 “Alright, Redsands,” Heidi rolled her eyes. “We’ll all flipping miss you. I would say rest in peace, but I know you won’t, because you’ll be turning in your grave while this class plunges into ANARCHY,”

 It was true, Agatha thought; they would be in ruins without her. Agatha might have been the figurehead popular girl, envied for her long red hair, but Yuki was the real social butterfly. She was decisive, determined and responsible - without her, it would be anarchy.

 

 “Anyway, have fun decaying,” Heidi looked at the ceiling in thought for a moment. “This would be so much more ceremonic with a corpse,”

 “I’m on it, unh,” Deirdre assured her, tongue stuck out in concentration. A few seconds later, she flicked her ponytail out of her face and threw something towards Heidi.

 Heidi caught it in her long-nailed hands; a small blu-tack model of Yuki, coloured in with orange highlighter. The chibi figure almost brought tears to Agatha’s eyes; it completely captured the character of Yuki. She’d have to get herself one of those, too.

 “Perfect. Now we can cremate her!”

 Cremation? Of course Heidi would seize the opportunity to turn things violent. 

 Suzie rolled her eyes, voicing Agatha’s thoughts. “Yuki would not like to be cremated. She’d want to be preserved and buried forever. With respect,”

 “Respect is f-”

 “LANGUAGE,”

 “-Flipping DEAD,” 

 Deirdre nodded at Heidi. “Yeah, that’s boring. Who wouldn’t want to die with a blast of fire, unh? It’s so much more artistic,”

 “Why don’t you feed her corpse to the sharks or something? That way it wouldn’t go to waste. I’ve always wondered what I taste like,” Kassie said, with a smile that never failed to chill all her classmates. “What? I like sharks,”

 “I would have never guessed,” Suzie said drily. Kassie’s crudely-tied ponytail always left a fin-like formation of hair on her head. “Anyway, you’re wrong, Deirdre. We’ve discussed this; art is something eternal. Like how the Egyptians mummified their Pharaohs,"

 “Decomposition,” Tess imputed helpfully, appearing out of nowhere.

 “Do you think I have the time for mummification, Redsands? Yuki’s body will BURN,” 

 

 With that, Heidi brandished a lighter. There was a great deal of screaming as it clicked to life, and everybody leapt back from the flame. Heidi let out a hysterical laugh, charring the wall as she waved her fiery wand around.

 Mr Kakuzu, mask up and eyes bloodshot, watched the commotion from his desk. 

 “Four pounds for rubbing alcohol… seven pounds for wall paint… twenty pounds for a new charger…” he murmured in his husky voice. “Heidi, no lighters in school… damage costs are expensive to cover. You still need to pay for the whiteboard marker you drank last month…”

 Chaos ensued. The Blu-tack Yuki melted, one of Suzie’s impeccable red braids caught fire, and Kassie emptied a whole water bottle onto her head in an attempt to put it out. Eventually, Konan, her paper flower burnt, wrestled the lighter from Heidi’s grasp. She held it above her head and placed it on top of a filing cabinet, doubting she’d ever have a moment of peace again.

 “You’re all idiots!” she said, frustrated. “Yuki is not dead-”

 “She’s American, unh,” Deirdre said darkly, “And that’s a whole ‘nother level of worse,”

 “In our hearts, she is dead,” Agatha said, feeling rather depressed.

 Konan looked at her incredulously. Even Agatha was being a melodramatic prat, and if she continued being so, Konan thought she’d fly away to America too. “Yuki hasn’t even boarded the plane yet! Anyway, America isn’t that bad.”

 “America is a graveyard, of founding fathers and massacred Natives,” Heidi said.

 “We do not like the Americans,” Deirdre said, crossing her arms stubbornly. “They banned Kinder eggs, unh. Twats,”

 Suzie stroked her burnt, soaking hair; her braids were usually pristine, and this change was not at all welcome. Rather cross, she said; “I don’t like them either. Their standardized measurement system is stupid,”

 Konan threw her arms in the air, exasperated. “You’re all stupid!” she exclaimed, pushing past Tessa and causing the girl to drop a few plant seeds. She picked up her From Me to You manga from her desk and retreated to the back of the class. 

 

She seated herself beside Itsuki, who was also reading a book and didn’t look up to greet her. It was hard to ever make Itsuki look up; Deirdre had tried valiantly to strike up a friendship with her, but her book was ever more important. She kept it with her while eating, feeding the crows in the playground, and even under the tables in class.  Deirdre approached her now, crouching beside her to get a better look at her face beyond the novel she held. 

 “What are you reading?” she asked. Itsuki didn’t reply, eyes still fixed on the pages, but turned the cover towards her. It had a crow on it. Of course.

 “Nice,” Deirdre nodded, though she thought anything but. “What’s it about, unh?”

 In response, the blurb was turned towards her face. Deirdre scoffed, and sauntered away. Itsuki was impossible.

 

With tables serving as impromptu seating and the whiteboard now a canvas of graffiti, Mr. Kakuzu, with a sigh that spoke of long-suffering, finally announced, 'You can all get out now.'

 There was still three minutes until school ended, but nobody refused the offer of leaving school early.

 “Who wants to come to the corner shop with me?” Heidi yelled. “I need some Red Bull,”

 “...Apart from you. You’re not going anywhere until you pay me back for that whiteboard marker,” Mr Kakuzu said, sending her a glare. “Three pounds sixty one,”

 “Oh, that. I’ll bring the cash next week or whatever,” she replied dismissively. “Konan, Agatha, can you two come?”

 They glanced at each other, and Konan shook her head. “No. We’ve got some mourning to do,”

 “I’m sorry, Heidi, I can’t come either,” Suzie said. “I can’t go out looking like this,” She tugged at her burnt hair in disgust. “No, don’t look at me like that. It’s your fault,”

 Deirdre scowled at her friend. “You were meant to come to Wilko with me, unh! I need a new pen,” She held up inky fingers at Suzie, who pulled back in disgust. “My pen leaked, again,”

 “No. Granny Chiyo’s waiting for me, and I look atrocious. Also, Dei, have you seen my purple highlighter? I need to look for that, too,”

 “Unh, I might have maybe used that up,” Deirdre admitted sheepishly. She shielded herself as Suzie’s rucksack came hurtling towards her. “But that means you do need to come to Wilko with me,”

 “Nitwit,” Suzie huffed. “Come on, let's go. I’ll just have to wear my hood up. But be quick; I don’t like waiting around,”

 

 With that, they hurried out of the classroom. Agatha and Konan were now long gone, as well as Kassie, who had rushed off to netball club. Heidi looked around at the remaining options in dissatisfaction.

 “Itsuki, why don’t we go together?” she decided. 

 Itsuki slung her backpack over her shoulder, hugging her book to her chest. “No,” she said. “I need to pick up Sasuke from school,”

 Of course; her little brother. Apart from homework, he was the only thing she ever spoke about in the rare occasion she opened her mouth. 

 Heidi sighed. 

 “I can come with you,” Tessa said, appearing behind her with a grin and a hand outstretched with a tree sapling.

 “I am not walking down the high street with a weirdo like you,” Heidi groaned. 

 “You’re not walking down the high street with anyone until I get back my three pound sixty one,” Mr Kakuzu grumbled.

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Alright, Tess, you can come to Ms Tsunade’s office with me,” Heidi decided. “That b-”

 “LANGUAGE, please!” Suzie’s voice floated into the room, silencing her even in her absence. Heidi rolled her eyes.

 “Sheesh, Redsands. Anyway, that beautiful lady confiscated my bracelets last Tuesday. I need them back, even if I gotta RULE-BREAK to get them,”

 “Theft,” Tessa nodded approvingly. “Amarbel plants steal nutrients and water from other plants to survive. They use strangulation too,”

 “Savage, but no; if you come with me, you’re keeping that leafy-talk zipped up. Let’s go,”

 

 Mr Kakuzu let out a hoarse cough and glared after them as they left, not content until reunited with his three pound and sixty one pence. 

Notes:

Yes, Konan canonically loves anime/manga! And Itsuki's a bookworm.

Maybe there's another crazy person out there who also suffers as a fan of both literature and television... who will understand all my references...

Chapter 2: In which Two Disturbing Figures intrude on a Peaceful Tuesday Morning

Notes:

No, British Secondary School is not this entertaining. Realistically, Agatha would have been marched over to the Wellbeing Suite and questioned about her mental health for what she does in this chapter. But yes, we are all clueless about the geography of America, as you'll see Deirdre is.

 Peace wasn’t something familiar to Mr Kakuzu’s year nine class; but Suzie felt they were dangerously close to bordering it. Though Suzie liked order, she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable with absolute peace. 

 The first strange thing about Monday was the absence of Yuki. She had barely missed a day before, and while Mr Kakuzu was rather unbothered by school regulations and rules, Yuki was there to bring order. She would call out announcements, encourage them to join a sports club, and remind them not to wear trainers on a day without PE. And she wasn’t picky or snooty about it either; just uplifting and leader-like.

 Along with her absence came the absence of her friends. When the bell rang and Konan and Agatha still hadn’t arrived, Deirdre speculated that they must have snuck into Yuki’s suitcase. Form time felt quiet without the main individuals of their class being present; that is, until Heidi walked in fifteen minutes late, chaos incarnate.

 But on Monday morning, nobody told her to pay back that three pound sixty pence; which she had, of course, forgotten. That was, in fact, because Mr Kakuzu’s desk was empty. They had never known Mr Kakuzu to miss a single day either, being a man keen to earn as much as he could.

 

 Suzie arrived first as usual on Tuesday morning, lugging Deirdre into the empty class with her. Deirdre slammed her bag on the table and, taking a little mirror from the front pocket, proceeded to rearrange her long blonde hair.

 “See?” she said, hair-tie between her teeth. “Yuki’s probably opening her suitcase right now, in her lodge in Yosemite National park-”

 “Yosemite isn’t in West Virginia, Dei. It’s in California. That’s like the distance between us and Turkey. Not even close,”

 “Whatever, unh. Well, she’s opening her luggage on top of some mountain, with eagles flying above her head, and her mates pop out of it. We’re never seeing them again is my point, unh!”

 

 Suzie took out her maths book, and began decorating the back with intricate floral patterns. Deirdre huffed away at her reflection beside her, mouth full of scrunchies, until Konan walked in.

 She plopped herself into her chair. Deirdre thought she looked rather worried, brows furrowed and paper flower coming undone in her hair.

 Deirdre took a sip of water, and let Kassie, who had just jogged in from badminton club, sky some from her bottle too. Then she approached Konan, snatching some blu-tack from the wall on her way.

 “Are you ok?”

 Konan looked at her and sighed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 “I don’t know, unh,” Deirdre said, scrutinizing her. “Usually you’re usually very demure, very mindful, sophisticated and all that. Today you look pale as your paper cranes,”

 “Paper, huh?” Konan replied weakly.

 “Yeah, unh. Also, nice piercing,”

 Suzie looked up to see what Deirdre was talking about; there it was, a silver stud below Konan’s lip. She wondered if that was school uniform approved.

 

 Itsuki entered, somehow navigating the classroom perfectly even though her eyes were glued to the book before her. Leaves clung to her jacket, as if a tree had shed it’s boughs over her as she passed under.

 Tessa followed her in, plucking one off her back and sticking it in her mouth. Suzie glanced at her, disturbed.

 “Be-leaf in yourself,” Tessa reassured her, flashing her a wide, leafy smile. Suzie rolled her eyes and turned back to her drawing.

 “The leaves?” she prompted Itsuki.

  Itsuki dragged a chair from under the table with her foot, and sat herself down, eyes still on the book. “Uh, I took Sasuke to the park before school,” she said.

 “And the flowers?” Kassie asked, gesturing to the plum blossoms whose heads peaked out between her book’s pages.

 “One of Sasuke’s friend’s gave them to me,”

 Taking offence, Kassie wondered if Itsuki spent more time with Sasuke’s classmates than her own. She walked off, throwing an empty water bottle, which landed neatly in the recycling bin.

 

 Deirdre began her daily rounds around the classroom in search for a source of chewing gum.

 “D’you have gum?” she asked them, slamming her hands on the table. Itsuki, disturbed by the tremor, moved the book to her lap. Suzie’s hand jolted across her Maths book, resulting in a jagged line through her floral illustrations. She glared at Deirdre.

 “What the hell, Dei! Look what you did,”

 “I made it more exciting, unh,”

 “You ruined it,” Suzie corrected. “Anyway, I’m sure you bought a pack of bubblegum yourself this morning, when we went to Asda,”

 Now it was Deirdre’s turn to scowl. “That’s my emergency stash, in case nobody else has gum. It’s meant to be secret, unh!”

 “Well, now the secret’s out, you might as well give us some,” Kassie called from across the room with a grin. Deirdre threw her a piece reluctantly, then popped one into her own mouth, munching furiously.

 Suddenly the rest of her classmates had a newfound craving for her gum too; even Itsuki took a piece, and soon the new packet was half empty.

 

 But before Deirdre’s stash could be completely demolished, the door groaned open. 

 Kassie gasped. Deirdre’s jaw dropped open, her half-chewed gum falling onto the table. Tessa simply said, “Thorns,”

 Suzie just stared, the ruination of her meticulously-drawn flowers now insignificant to the figure that entered.

 It took her a moment to recognise the face behind the new array of piercings decorating it; but as sure as eggs is eggs, it was Agatha. As well as the face embellishments, her famed hair had been severed to a choppy bob cut and dyed ginger. A familiar shade of ginger. Almost like-

 “If you’re trying to cosplay Yuki,” Kassie said with a nervous grin; which was still as creepy as her usual one. “She sure has pimples, but they’re not silver,”

 “Or symmetrical,” Suzie criticized, looking her up and down. Her edgy new look was completely at odds with her red-and-gray attire. “Is that even school uniform approved?”

 Agatha ignored them, and with all eyes trained on her, seated herself next to Konan.  Suzie noticed the stud adorning her lower lip mirrored her friend’s.

 Deirdre, utterly terrified, dropped her entire gum packet on Agatha’s desk and fled. With one last scrutinizing glance at the reformed Agatha, Suzie picked up her maths book and joined Deirdre in migration across the classroom.

 

 The classroom was quiet when the bell rang; it usually was relatively so, because Heidi never arrived before the bell, but today it was borderline bizarre. 

 Konan dared not say a word to Agatha for a few minutes. She had known about her ridiculous idea, but seeing it in person, fully executed, was still a shock. She had tried relentlessly to talk Agatha out of it, but the girl had seated herself stubbornly in the most unreasonable depths of despair, refusing to cooperate.

 “Yuki isn’t dead,” she had told her for the hundredth time. “There's only an ocean between you, not the curtain of death-”

 “Three hundred million litres of water,” Agatha had replied sadly. “Almost ten times more than the amount of minutes left in my life,”

 Konan didn’t question where she had got her figures from; after that, she hadn’t questioned anything. Agatha was clearly lost to her grief, and Konan had lost the battle of common sense. And if you can’t beat them, join them, even if Konan’s piercing was fake.

 Not that Konan didn’t miss Yuki herself. Yuki had been as much a friend to her as she had been to Agatha; but, unlike Agatha, Konan wasn’t the type to overreact. She also didn’t believe Yuki’s departure would be the end of their friendship, even if Agatha thought it was the tragic closing chapter of their story.

 

 The class was temporarily livened up by the reminder of homework. Deirdre squealed and rushed over to Itsuki’s desk.

 “Did you do it, Itsuki?” she asked. 

 Suzie noticed Itsuki was more engrossed in her book than usual, if that was even possible. She had sunk into the chair, knees hugged to her chest, and a hand was clamped over her mouth. Nevertheless, Itsuki pointed at her backpack with her foot; she always did the homework. And everybody else always copied it.

 Deirdre had fished the booklet out of her bag, when Kassie walked up and grabbed it.

 “Hey, not fair, unh! I got it first!”

 “I called dibs on this homework last week,” Kassie said, grinning, as she prised it from Deirdre’s fingers.

 “Forget about last week, I asked first now-”

 Itsuki was rarely disturbed while reading, and when she was, it was a grave situation. She glanced at the bickering girls over the top of her book, her dark eyes narrowed, silencing them instantly. Then she bowed her head towards her book once more, ponytail sliding back over her shoulder.

 

 Heidi strolled into class ten minutes late, though there was nobody at the teacher’s desk to tell her off for it. 

 “Howdy, peasants, the QUEEN has just entered,” she announced, sliding on her fake fangs. “And she’s in a very SACRIFICIAL mood this morning,”

 “There’s homework, Heidi,” Suzie informed her. “Mr Jerry,”

 “Does it it look like I give a-”

 “Language, please,”

 Heidi rolled her eyes and pushed back her headband. “Whatever. Anyway, I’m not doing any homework for that f-”

 “LANGUAGE!”

 “...Flipping pedophile,”

 Heidi’s voice lowered to the lowest Heidi’s voice went, as her gaze drifted to Agatha. For a split second her bravado faltered; and then slowly, an unsettling smile crept across her face, braces glinting menacingly.

 “What the-”

 “Language,”

 “-bloody hell do we have here? Somebody decided to join the dark side, huh?” 

 Agatha looked slightly concerned as Heidi began to circle her, taking in her new look. “You look like you just went through a blender full of orange dye and safety pins. Are you going for the whole ‘fallen angel’ look? Respect, mate, but you should have consulted me first. You look like a ginger hedgehog,”

 

 That was as far as Heidi got with her criticisms, because at that moment, another monster joined their Halloween parade.

 The figure that appeared in the doorway looked like a feminine Voldemort, but with a nose and hair. Long hair, at that; a silky sheet that slid down the back of her suit jacket.

 But that was all you could say in favor of this phantom, because one glance at her face and the unsettling smile that split across it, rivalling Kassie's in eeriness, Deirdre was quivering behind Suzie’s back, hand firmly on her friend’s sleeve. 

 Her face was contorted and pulled awkwardly by surgery, and smothered in layers of pale, cakey makeup. Silver snakes coiled around her wrists, hung from her ears and hugged her long neck tightly. She wore a black slip dress under her coat, adorned with a disproportionately large purple bow around her waist.  

 When she had finished observing the class from the doorway, she licked her pale lips and stepped inside.

 “Good morning, Year Nines,” she greeted, in something between a hiss and a growl. The smile was still plastered across her face. “I’m Ms Olivia, and I’ll be taking this class for the next few weeks,”

 There were confused glances all around. Eventually, Konan spoke up.

 “Excuse me, miss. Where’s Mr Kakuzu?”

 “He ran into some… unfortunate circumstances,”

 Heidi frowned. “Who hurt him? Whoever hurt him, I’ll sacrifice them to the DEVIL,”

 “Calm down, darlings,” Ms Olivia reassured them, strutting across the mottled blue carpet, her high heels click-clacking. “It’s entirely accidental. Your teacher rushed onto the road to pick up an item; a wallet, I heard. Of course, by not waiting for the green man, he had to suffer the consequences. But he’ll live,”

 Deirdre glanced uneasily at Ms Olivia, unsure she’d be able to survive another moment in this classroom, in her presence. Or her shoes’. They snaked up her legs; literally. Her foot was encased in the snake’s mouth, fangs between each of her toes, and amethysts glinted menacingly in its eye sockets. The rest of the snakeskin body wound up her pale legs and under her dress.

 

 Ms Olivia sighed, sinking herself in Mr Kakuzu’s shabby old chair with an uncomfortable creak. The leather had worn away in places, leaving the rusty metal structure exposed. The new teacher wriggled uncomfortably, then ran a long-nailed finger over the dust collecting on the desk. 

 “This place is in need of a bit of renovation,” Ms Olivia concluded, observing her new workspace in disgust. It was empty, apart from an assortment of lidless pens occupying an old plastic bottle. She sifted through the wooden draws, stiff and falling apart. All she found was a bundle of receipts held together with paperclips, and a dysfunctional stapler.

 Then she looked up, running her gaze over her students. Agatha caught her interest, and was summoned to the front.

 “I’m a big fan of jewellery myself, as you can see,” she said with a hoarse laugh. Indeed, they could see very well indeed, what with all those silver serpentine adornments hanging from every possible part of her body. “...So it’s unfortunate I have to address this. But I don’t think those piercings are school uniform, dear,”

 “They’re new,” Agatha told her. “I can’t take them out for six months,”

 “Delightful. Still, I’m afraid I’ll have to take those rings and bracelets,”

 Agatha had been wearing excessive jewellery - and getting it confiscated - since the beginning of time, but their volume had almost tripled over the weekend. Not to mention, her dainty Pandora charm bracelets had been exchanged for fingerfulls of chains and spikes. She handed them all over, stiffening as Ms Olivia’s hands grazed hers. For a person so well-applicated in face, her hands were of reptilian dryness, as if moisture had never touched her skin.

 Agatha returned to her seat, bare-handed, and Ms Olivia continued her analysis of her new students. Her eyes roamed the classroom, stopping to linger on Itsuki. Her unnervingly smooth face twitched, a flicker of something akin to curiosity in her usually cold, predatory eyes. She tilted her head slightly, smile stretching impossibly wider. Deirdre thought that if she smiled any bigger, she’d be eating her ears, and felt very sorry for Itsuki.

 Itsuki, who had momentarily glanced up to take in the new teacher, hurriedly returned her attention to her book. But Ms Olivia wasn’t going to take that.

 “What’s your name, sweetie?”

 Ever polite towards her elders, Itsuki looked Ms Olivia straight in the eye, though she kept a firm hold on her book.

 “Itsuki, miss,”

 “Itsuki…” Ms Olivia repeated in satisfaction. “Another Uchiha, am I right?”

 The girl stiffened momentarily, and then nodded slowly, suspicion in her gaze. 

 Olivia laughed, the sound scratchy and hollow. “I’ve been well acquainted with the Uchiha in the past. Very intelligent, very respectable people. Yesss…” Her voice lowered to a hiss. “You seem to be cast in the same mold. You like books, do you, Itsuki dear? A grade-A student? How fortunate I am to have you in my class,”

 Everybody was feeling incredibly nervous on behalf of Itsuki; being in Ms Olivia’s spotlight couldn’t be something positive. Itsuki herself felt immensely uncomfortable; she didn’t like attention, and although her family name gave her a fair share of it, she’d never met anybody this interested in it. It creeped her out; like Ms Olivia wasn’t creepy enough already. She looked like she’d split her soul into too many Horcruxes and then visited the Capitol for cosmetic surgery; the sort of person she wanted to keep as far away from Sasuke as possible. Nevertheless, she held her chilling gaze steadily.

 To her relief, Suzie eventually interrupted the stare-off between them.

 “We don’t grade from A to E anymore,” she muttered, still doodling on her Maths book. “It’s from nine to one now,”

 Ms Olivia turned to Suzie, looking her up and down disfavorably, smile reducing to a pained smirk.

 “What would be your name, sweetheart?”

 Suzie capped her pen, and Deirdre’s grip on her sleeve loosened. “Suzie Redsands,”

 Presently, the shrill bleat of the bell cut through the tension, summoning them to their next lesson. Eager to escape Ms Olivia’s presence, the girls jumped to action, stuffing half-finished homework into their bags and swarming to the door.

 Ms Olivia glanced up at the clock. “Well, Suzie, maybe you can enlighten me on the current educational standards another time. And girls,” Half the class had wriggled through the exit already, but, smile lingering on Itsuki, she called out, “The bell doesn’t dismiss you. I do,”

Notes:

It seems like Orochimaru has joined the Akatsuki...

Chapter 3: In which Danzo Outlaws Art and There is a Lot of Rain

Notes:

This chapter will be mostly me ripping off part of my soul and implanting it into a certain favourite Uchiha... :)

Also we hate Danzo !!!

 “Just as I was starting to believe Spring was here to stay,” Suzie muttered, arms held over her head in an attempt to shield herself from the rain as she ran.

 “It’s outrageous, unh!” Deirdre agreed, sprinting behind her. “My hair is getting ruined, again!”

 “You shouldn’t be surprised by now,” Konan said. “This happens every March. The daffodils come up and the sun shines for a week, and then the sky starts crying again. Until the end of May, when Summer begins and doesn’t stop and we get sick of it,”

 “Photosynthesis,” Tessa grinned.

 The girls skidded to a stop when they entered the building, shaking themselves off. Suzie wrung out her braids and Konan pulled the pulpy remains of her origami flower from her hair. Itsuki and her book, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected.

 Kassie ran inside last, after enjoying a shower and a good old jump in the puddles. She was greeted by a flick of Deirdre’s wet ponytail in her face as she entered; it felt like a salmon being slapped across her face. Which wasn’t particularly unpleasant.

 Together, the girls entered the assembly hall two minutes late, leaving a mess of criss-crossing footprint tracks in their wake.

 

 They were the last class to enter the assembly hall, thanks to Mr Jerry’s habit of checking his emails late; and filed in silently, eyes on them as they took their place on a row of blue plastic chairs. The school wasn’t particularly massive; though their class of nine people was the smallest, none of the others were much larger.

 On each row of the gathering, a different colour was being worn. As part of Headmaster Minato’s “Classroom Patriotism” project, each year group could choose a coloured jumper to wear over their grey uniforms. The year nines came to a general consensus on red, and were lucky enough to claim it before another class did. The current year tens were not so fortunate, all dressed in baby pink, thanks to one classmate who chose on their behalf.

 “Ah, year nine, you’re here,” Headmaster Minato said from the stage, with his cheery smile; though Suzie sensed it was less cheery than usual.  “Let’s get started then. Good afternoon, ladies!”

 “Good afternoon, Mr Minato,” the audience chorused lethargically, paling in comparison to Minato’s enthusiasm.

 “Thank you. I’ve called you all here today to inform you about some potential changes to our school…”

 Deirdre poked at Suzie’s arm urgently, and hissed; “Hey, hey, hey! What’s up with that, unh? Usually he says ‘That was pathetic, let’s try that again’ when we greet him, unh? What’s wrong today? Is that even Mr Minato, unh?”

 Suzie rolled her eyes; Deirdre’s verbal tic increased when she was excited. “Shh, Deirdre,” she said, though she also felt concerned. 

 “...Of course, none of these adjustments have been confirmed yet,” Mr Minato continued. “Now without further ado, let me introduce you to our guest, Professor Daniel,”

 There was a ripple of surprise in the audience as the guest stepped onto the stage. A man of sixty or so, Professor Danny had a wrinkled face and small, mean eyes which surveyed the audience. His arm was in a cast, and there was a cross-shaped scar on his chin.

 “Hey, hey, hey,” Deirdre prodded Suzie again. “Isn’t that-”

 “Shhh,” Suzie reminded her.

  “Good afternoon,” the newcomer greeted coldly. “I am Professor Daniel, headteacher of South Foundation Academy,”

 Gasps and whispers echoed around the hall. South was their closest neighbouring secondary school; a posh, progressive academy in the centre of town. The girls saw them as their archenemy; though it was doubtful that South even knew they existed. Suzie thought it was like how in year 11, Gaia was determined to score higher than Kashifa in her GCSEs.

 “What’s he doing in our territory, unh?” Deirdre hissed, offended.

 Professor Danny cleared his throat irritably, and the chatter stopped abruptly.

 “That’s enough, thank you,” he said. “I’d like you all to be respectful and pay attention now, as I’m here to talk to you all about a new project. Our schools will be partnering up for an improvement scheme,” 

 The hall erupted into whispers once again, this time indignant. Heidi was ready to leap out of her chair. “What’s he talking about? What the -”

 “Language, Heidi!” interrupted Suzie, though she was equally outraged.

 “Partnering up?” whispered Konan from behind her. “What does that even mean?”

 “Definitely trouble, unh!” Deirdre said. “They’re gonna try spread their snobby robot-ness to us,”

 “We already have enough homework,” Suzie grumbled. “They’ll have our noses to the grindstone,”

 “This wouldn’t happen if Yuki was still here,” mumbled Agatha.

 “Silence!” Professor Danny called out, and the chatter ceased. He steepled his fingers, surveying the audience like a hawk assessing its prey. “It will be a beneficial project for both schools. Or, by the end of this, academies. That is the aim of this project; your school will follow in the footsteps of ours and be converted to an academy. There will be a merging of resources, curriculum, and… standards,” 

 “He doesn’t think very much of our standards, does he?” murmured Konan.

 Suzie huffed, glancing at Heidi and Agatha; a vampire and a pin cushion. “To be fair, I can’t blame him,”

 “South Foundation will collaborate with you to reform your institution,” Danny continued slowly. “We possess the resources, discipline and vision. There will be no more time-wasting and bad grades; our aim is to tighten up and elevate you all to your full potential. Isn’t that right, Headmaster?”

 Headmaster Minato, on the stage beside him, smiled nervously. “Yes- well… of course, none of this is confirmed,” he reassured them. “It’s all still being considered. But Professor Danny does have an excellent school, which we can all take inspiration from,”

 "Indeed. We have a history of success; our students have worked hard, followed regulations, and gone on to study in great places like Cambridge and Oxford. Such institutions are just around the corner, and we want to assure there’s a place for our students there. This project will enable you to receive the guidance needed for you to get there. Those who demonstrate exceptional aptitude, those who prove themselves worthy will be granted access to exclusive opportunities. To do that, there must be obedience and uniformity. And less… garish displays of individuality,”

 His harsh gaze lingered on some of the girls who took a more liberal approach to their school uniforms. 

 “Did he just outlaw art?” gasped Deirdre. 

 Heidi bared her teeth. “If he means what I think he means, I’ma fight him,”

 “You’re in for trouble, Ags,” Konan said, nudging Agatha, who just shrugged uncomfortably.

 “This is to introduce an environment of unity and professionalism,” Danny explained, shooting a disapproving look at the whispering year 9s. They began to zone out as he continued, speaking of ‘shared resources’, ‘enhanced learning opportunities’, and ‘a brighter future for all’. 

 

Eventually, they were instructed to file silently out of the hall; which nobody was very good at. A mob of year eights surrounded Mr Minato, and Tamara, a small but feisty year seven, let a small weasel loose on the stage as she passed. Professor Danny spotted the year nines lingering to watch the spectacle, and approached them. The girls prepared to flee; Kassie sprinted away, and Agatha and Heidi lost themselves in the crowd before she could be scolded for her piercings. Before the rest could take action, he stood before them, long finger pointed at Itsuki.

 “You,” Danny said, eyes fixed on her. “Young lady. An Uchiha, am I right?”

 Suzie rolled her eyes. Another adult interested in Itsuki? Sure, she was smart, but was her family that amazing? She felt a surge of irritation on her behalf. 

 Itsuki stiffened, looking up to meet Professor Danny with a gaze of silent intensity.

 “Yes, sir,”

 “What an unlikely place to find one,” he said. “A lineage of brilliant minds. It’s a shame you ended up here; its system is inadequate for your capacity. A disservice to your potential. You would be better off at South Foundation, where your intellect would be properly coached. Though, with this project, we can grant you the available resources.”

 “I’m grateful for your… concern, sir,” Itsuki replied cooly. “But I’m already receiving everything I need. Your efforts won’t be necessary,”

“Modesty is a virtue,” Danny said, his smile thin and predatory. “But misplaced modesty can be a hindrance. I wish to speak with you further. Come with me.”

 Itsuki hesitated, and sensing this, Konan intervened, placing a reassuring hand on Itsuki’s arm. 

 “Sir, we need to head to our next lesson,” she said. “We’ll be late,”

 “Yes, you should get going,” he agreed, then turned to Itsuki. “You will come with me. Don’t worry, I’ll inform your lesson teacher of why you will be late. Also,” he motioned to Konan’s face. “Makeup isn’t acceptable. I expect you to remove the glitter from your eyelids,”

 Konan opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it, instead uttering a reluctant “Yes, sir”, footsteps echoing as she hurried away.

 The last few pupils were beginning to filter out of the hall. With a swish of his suit coat, Professor Danny also turned to go, motioning for Itsuki to follow. Before she could move, however, Deirdre stepped before her.

 “If Itsuki goes, we do too, unh,” she said. 

 “It’s alright,” Itsuki told her, looking rather surprised. Deirdre shook her head, frowning, and Danny looked down at her crossly.

 “Very well,” he said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. Suzie noted it was a Rolex. “Get to lesson now. I look forward to speaking to you another time of your potential, Itsuki. Next time, without your little gang of friends. They are dragging you down,”

 

* * *

 

 Friends.

 Professor Danny’s words echoed in Itsuki’s mind as she made her way through the school corridors. ‘Gang of friends’... the phrase was foreign, almost comical. Deirdre and Konan and all the rest… they were more like acquaintances. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like them, or agreed with Danny that they would drag her down; they were just very different from her. They always tried hard to include her, but she knew that they were only being nice. But it still perplexed her; why did they try so hard to defend her? Was it purely to abide by Mr Minato’s ‘Class Patriotism’ project? Or did they really think of her as a friend?

 Being their friend would be a burden for them all; Itsuki would have to socialise, and they would have to put effort into making her feel welcome. It was better this way; Itsuki with her books, and the rest of the class together.

 Everybody knew Itsuki was a loner; her dad thought she was just arrogant, and her mum thought she was shy. Sasuke thought it was because she liked his friends better. Maybe it was that, or maybe she was just an antisocial person. The chaos of humanity didn’t harmonise with her quiet thoughts. Books over people, all the way.

 Anyway, she had her own friends.

 

 Itsuki swung the library door open, and walked inside. It was mostly occupied by green-jumpered year 11s, swotting over GCSE textbooks, though a group of younger girls in the corner were playing a game of UNO.

 Flicking her ponytail over her shoulder, Itsuki approached the librarian’s desk. Kashifa stood behind it, leaning on the chair with a book in hand as usual. The head pupil librarian was a tall girl, with heavy-lidded eyes, a flowy grey hijab, and a face forever obscured by her mask. 

 Itsuki slammed Six of Crows on the desk before her.

 “You done with that?” Kashifa asked, flipping through the worn pages. Itsuki nodded.

 “That was quick,”

 “I’m always quick.”

 “You liked it?”

 “It’s the best book I’ve read since Five Survive,” Itsuki affirmed with a small smile. “Strategy, trauma, crows, and morally-grey characters; it has everything,”

 Kashifa returned the smile with her eyes. “I knew you’d like it. Ordered it in just for you. The next book’s ready on the shelf, should be under ‘B’,”

 Trailing her finger across the spines of books, Itsuki searched the shelves. She soon returned to Kashifa, tracing the golden lettering with her fingers.

 “Beautiful, isn’t it,” the older girl commented, freeing the book from Itsuki’s hands to scan its barcode. 

 Itsuki resisted the urge to start reading and put it safely in her backpack, satisfied. Before she left, she nodded towards the book Kashifa held. “What are you reading right now?”

 Kashifa held it up, displaying the blue cover. “Fault in our Stars,”

 “Again?”

 “I’m also reading Persuasion; but you know, classics take a while,”

  Itsuki elbowed the library door, swinging it open. “I’ll leave you to it then. You’ve probably got a lot of revision to do, as well,” 

 Unbotheredly, Kashifa’s eyes roamed over her classmates, studying hard around her. “Oh, that too.”

 

* * *

 

Itsuki dragged herself through the rest of the day, finishing her work well before the rest of the class and giving herself time to read under the table. When the bell finally rang, an angelic voice which freed them from Ms Tsunade’s laborious Biology lesson, Itsuki darted out into the rain.

 A rather soggy bakesale was taking place at the front gate; Ms Kushina ran between dessert-laden tables, a foil pie dish held over her head to shelter her glorious red hair from the persistent rain. Itsuki knew Mr Minato’s wife well; she and Itsuki’s mother were good friends, and now their sons followed in their footsteps.

 “Good afternoon, Aunty,” Itsuki greeted politely. “Do you need help?”

 “Ah, Itsuki, honey!” Kushina smiled at her. “It’s a miracle you’re here, y’know. Sweetie, can I ask you a massive favour?”

 Itsuki nodded, and she continued.

 “If you don’t mind, can you pick up Naruto from school today, and drop him off here? I know you need to get home, but if your mum is okay with it, I’d be very grateful,”

 “Of course. But could I bring Naruto to our house instead? Sasuke has been begging for a playdate for a while now,”

 “Sure, if your mum is okay with it,” Kushina agreed. “Naruto can be a handful, y’know!”

 

 Itsuki headed off through the rain, equipped with three cupcakes bundled in blue tissue paper. Kassie walked with her some of the way, explaining to her the details of last week’s netball tournament. She pushed her sweatband up her forehead, cricket bat slung over her shoulder as she walked.

 “...The worst bit was their Wing Defence. Big and lumpy, whale-like. We had a bit of luck, though; usually Erika’s like a fish out of water, but this time-” 

 “The rain’s stopped.”

 Tipping her head up to the sky, Itsuki, who hadn’t really been listening, halted in the middle of the road. Kassie looked over her shoulder at the delay.

 “What a shame,” she said with a sharky grin. “I was looking forward to a bit of football in the rain,”

 “Pluviophilia,”

 Kassie shot Itsuki a look of concern. “Erm, alright,”

 When Itsuki didn’t respond, still watching the clouds, Kassie decided to make her own way home.

 

 Itsuki was either extremely observant, or extremely prone to daydreaming, and it was a problem. Sometimes she was able to decipher other people’s thoughts and feelings with a single look. Other times, she forgot anybody was even there.

 As she approached the primary school, the yells and laughter of children became louder. She heard the creaking squeal of a heavy gate being opened, and soon the school came into sight.

 The teacher at the gate, who called out the names of children whose parents had arrived, spotted Itsuki and smiled.

 “Sasuke!” he called, sticking his head back through the gate.

 “I’ll be taking Naruto too, please,” Itsuki called.

 …”And Naruto!”

 A smile tugged at Itsuki’s lips as the little head bobbed into sight, dark hair spiking up at the back. Sasuke ran through the gates, rain-jacket half on; he skidded to a stop before her and grabbed her hand.

 “Hello, Onee-chan,” he greeted. Itsuki flicked him tenderly on the forehead, then took his bag and slung it over her shoulder.

 Naruto joined them a moment later, after grabbing his scooter from the bike rack. It was a rather washed-out orange one; when Itsuki’s father had first seen it, he had commented rather haughtily;

 “No wonder the teachers are striking,”

 When Naruto ran up to them, Sasuke quickly released his sister’s hand and put on a nonchalant facade. Of course. Sasuke was eight now; despite his affection for his sister, he couldn’t be seen as attached to her. He already had quite a reputation at this young age; especially amongst the girls.

 “Yeah! We’re going to Sasuke’s house!” Naruto hollered, stepping onto his scooter and racing ahead. “Thanks, big sis Itsuki! Sasuke, let's race there!”

 “Are you sure about that? You know I’ll win, loser,” Sasuke ran forward, easily catching up to Naruto despite his possession of a scooter.

 “I don’t care if you’re the fastest in the class, moody-pants,” his friend called back, pulling a face. “I never give up!”

 

 Itsuki watched them fondly as they rushed onwards, Sasuke always one step ahead, keeping up with the boys at a brisk walk. Feeling a tug at her jacket sleeve, she stopped and turned.

 “Oh, hi, Sakura,” she said in surprise. From the small round face below, wide green eyes peered up at her, framed by soft pink hair. 

 “Hello, Sasuke’s sister,” Sakura replied with a smile. Itsuki liked her very much; she was a smart, sensible girl, even if she was a little too obsessed with Sasuke for her liking. As Itsuki continued walking, she followed, her little legs working hard to keep up with Itsuki’s quick strides. It was commonly known that she was shy in class, but Itsuki didn’t believe it; for she chattered all the way.

 “...And, you know, my birthday is two Fridays away. My mum is going to get me a Hello Kitty notebook, which is really nice, but what I really want is cherry blossom hair clips. They’re really cute, don’t you think? Maybe Sasuke will think I look pretty with them on. And, I can use them to clip my hair over my forehead. I have a horrible big forehead, Ino said so. Is it true, Sasuke’s sister? Do I have a big forehead? Will Sasuke think I look ugly with it?”

 She looked up at Itsuki anxiously, and Itsuki wondered why a child of her age was so concerned about these cosmetic matters.

 “Your forehead is fine, Sakura,” Itsuki reassured her. “You’re very pretty. And even though it doesn't matter what Sasuke thinks, I’m sure he thinks so too,”

 Sakura’s eyes lit up. “Do you really think so?” she asked hopefully. “I guess I’ll have to believe you, then, because you’re really pretty and a teenager,”

 Itsuki smiled at the ground, rather flattered. Compliments from children always hit harder than from older people; children always spoke what they thought. When her classmates complimented her eyes or hairstyle, Itsuki never knew whether they were just being nice or truly meant it.

 

 Naruto ran over to the two girls, a bunch of rain-sodden daisies in his hand. Optimistically, he handed them to Sakura.

 “These are for you, Sakura!”

 Sidestepping his gesture, Sakura only looked at him with contempt; she was quite short-tempered when it came to Naruto. “Ew, Naruto, your hands are sticky. Didn’t you wash them after lunch?”

 Sasuke joined them, subtly shoving some flowers into his sister’s grasp. Tucking them into her hair, Itsuki smiled at him thankfully.

 “That’s very kind of you, Naruto,” she told the rejected boy on Sakura’s behalf. Sakura only huffed, though once Itsuki had braided the little white flowers into her hair, she was quite pleased.

 “Sasuke, do you think I look pretty?” she asked shyly, giving a little twirl, her satchel swinging around her. Sasuke looked away stubbornly, scowling; however, Itsuki noticed the bashful blush that crept into his cheeks. 

 “Forget about Sasuke. I think you look beautiful, Sakura,” Naruto grinned, scratching the back of his neck. “Sasuke’s just dumb,”

 Sasuke glowered at him, and Sakura batted him on the head with her bag. “Don’t say that about Sasuke!”

 

 Grabbing hold of the squabbling children as she lead them across a road, Itsuki sighed. Their innocent hopes and worries never failed to bring a smile to her lips; despite not fitting in with them, she enjoyed being in their company. It was a reminder that while she lived her life, there would always be some children in the world, youthful and naive to the demons that would one day eat away at that youth and draw their attention to bigger issues.

 It felt nostalgic; yet Itsuki knew that even Sasuke, Sakura and Naruto would grow up, perhaps faster than she would. In fact, they already were; leaving Itsuki, who still mourned her days of childhood, alone once more.

Notes:

Yep Sasuke just blushed :0
And of course I just turned Kakashi into a teenage hijabi bookworm. Reflection of myself, I guess. Except I can't afford to be so laid-back about my GCSEs...

Chapter 4: In which Tofu and Laminated Purple Snakes ruin Lunchtime

Notes:

Behold, the most fun chapter to write so far!

 “Compared to the logic of algebra and visual harmony of geometry,” Suzie said, pen tapping irritably, “Trigonometry is like maths decided to have a midlife crisis and become some kind of abstract art no one understands. I’ve been waiting for my brain to get a grip on this for the past hour and, frankly, I don’t like waiting,”

 Mr Shikaku sighed, giving up. “Maybe if you spent a bit more time actually working instead of decorating your book with flowers, you’d understand this a lot quicker, Suzie,”

 “At least drawing is actually using these perfectly good protractors,” his student returned disdainfully. “What’s the point of us buying these ten-quid pieces of glass if we have to use number laws to figure out the sizes of angles instead?”

 “Suzie, just do the last question on the board,” 

 “There’s no point; the bell will ring in twenty-seven seconds anyway,”

 Suzie began zipping her pencil case, which started a chain-reaction of the rest of the class packing up too.

 

 Year nine was Shikaku’s most troublesome class, and their Form Tutor didn’t seem to be taking any action to reform them. Even arranging a seating plan for them was beyond the scope of Shikaku’s rather famed intelligence; the class was so tight-knit that wherever he set most of them, they were still able to chatter terribly with the person beside them. He had managed to move Itsuki into a position where nobody could copy her work, next to Konan; but that meant the only common sense in the class being confined to one table, while the rest of the girls ran riot. Placing Heidi beside Deirdre definitely wasn’t one of his proudest strategising moments.

 Indeed, as Suzie had forecasted grouchily, the bell did ring twenty-seven seconds later. As the girls began flocking out of his classroom, he leaned back in his chair, pulling out the Metro he had picked up on the Tube this morning and flicking to the sudoku. Itsuki offered him a polite farewell, shoving the book she had been reading not-so-discreetly under the table into her bag. Even Konan had left a few paper butterflies crafted from trigonometry worksheets on her table; a testament to how little work she had done this lesson.

 This year’s year nines really were a lost cause. As a reward for putting up with them for two hours, he would treat himself to a bag of walnuts and a contemplative staring contest with the wall. That is, until he was summoned to the SLT meeting; it was about something troublesome today, like the school partnering with South Foundation Academy. He just hoped the alliance would free him from his role of teaching the year nines.

 

 “Any of you maggots wanna ditch this hellhole with me after lunch?” Heidi asked rather loudly, strutting through the corridors. “I’ll CRUCIFY myself before anyone can make me step into Ms Tsunade’s classroom one more time. It’s so f-”

 “Language, Heidi,” Suzie reminded her. 

 Konan glanced at Heidi, arm threaded through Agatha’s. “Where are you planning to go?”

 “Superdrug,”

 “You just went there before school, didn’t you?”

 “Yeah, to buy fake lashes. Extra volume, 3D minx. Gotta look best for the sacrifices, innit? Those killers were thick; almost darker than my soul. But Deirdre, that little s-”

 Suzie glared at her, covering Deirdre’s ears. “Heidi, no,”

 “That little grub! Im’a dissect her ALIVE; watch me. She stuck them under her freaking nose! Used them as moustaches!” 

 She wrapped her black-clawed fingers around the neck of Deirdre who, indeed, was balancing a dramatic false eyelash on her upper lip. She wriggled out of her grasp. “Artistic expression, unh!”

 “I don’t know a lot about your kind of ‘art’, Deirdre,” Suzie said drily, “But I don’t think cosplaying as Hitler could classify as abstract any more than it could traditional,”

 “She does look like Hitler, doesn’t she,” Kassie snickered, flicking the square strip of hair on Deirdre’s face.

 Immediately, Deirdre stripped it off her face and dropped it behind the radiator they were passing.

 Heidi looked like she was about to call her something very offensive, but thought better and opted for a more milder insult. “Idiot! I could have bought VIP tickets to hell from Satan himself with that cash. Not to mention the eyelash glue; all mixed into some f-”

 “Language!”

 Deirdre crossed her arms stubbornly. “Again, artistic purposes. I used it to enhance my DIY clay mixture, unh, to create a unique artistic medium!”

 “Artistic, my butt,” Heidi snorted. “It looked more like you grave-dug Thatcher and mashed up her intestines on your trig worksheet. Watch it, snot-face; you better rip out your organs and sell them to pay me back. Or shall I do the honours for you? Flipping b-”

 Before Heidi could finish, Konan interrupted. “It’s fish and chips today. We should go and grab seats quick, before the canteen is full,”

 

 “This isn’t fish and chips!!”

 Deirdre stepped away from the serving area, looking rather indignantly at her tray. 

 “It is Wednesday, unh? Konan, can you ask what the flip is going on?”

 “Margaret,” Konan asked the lunch lady, as a strange new concoction was ladled onto her plate. “Isn’t it meant to be fish and chips today?”

 “South Foundation managed today’s catering,” the old lady replied, bustling around busily. “It’s a taster session, they say. Salad and sauce, dear?”

 As the girls took their seats around a long table, they looked rather suspiciously at their plates.

 “Satan’s eyeballs,” Heidi exclaimed. “Which highstreet crackhead did they kill to get these smokers lungs?”

 “What is it?” Konan asked, spearing one of the greyish spheres distastefully. 

 Suzie sat back and crossed her arms.“Disappointing, that’s what. Just like everything that comes out of South Foundation,”

 “Tofu,”

 Although nobody remembered Tessa joining the table, there she appeared, grinning around at them while munching on her salad.

 “Well, this tofu looks like what I puked out that time Mr Kakuzu treated us to dessert,” Heidi remarked unhelpfully.

 “Eww, Heidi!” Deirdre squealed. “Now I’m gonna vomit, unh!”

 Heidi shrugged, picking at her braces. “Go on, then. What’dya eat for breakfast? I’m sure whatever you throw up will be tastier than these turd balls,”

 “The chips aren’t any better,” Suzie informed them.

 Deirdre sniffed one on the potato wedges, then recoiled. “They look like strips of cardboard,” she said sulkily, “Which got dunked in Ms Olivia’s hair, unh!”

 “Well, at least we know we’re superior to South Foundation in something,” Konan said, pulling a manga out of her bag.

 “But what do we do?” Deirdre complained. “I’m starving, unh! Starvation isn’t artistic. It’s undramatic, unh! I want to die of an explosion, not of skinny ribs and vitamin deficiency,”

 “Salad,” Tessa suggested, between mouthfuls of red onion.

 Heidi snorted. “What do we look like to you, vegans?”

 Tessa shrugged, and reached over to eat Heidi’s salad too.

 

 “I hate volleyball, unh,” Deirdre sighed, leaning her cheek on her palm dramatically, “But right now I envy Kassie for being at that sports club. Probably eating her mum’s homemade sandwiches… not having to suffer at the hands of these disgusting foods… unh!”

 Suzie side-eyed her. “Yeah, all while the food remains completely untouched,” she remarked drily. “Suffering that doesn’t involve actual suffering is purely theatrics, Dei. If you want to boast about how this food has scarred you for life, maybe take an actual bite first,”

 “The food is so horrid that its presence alone is making me suffer, unh,” Deirdre explained. “You’re insensitive if you don’t sympathise with my position. I thought we were best friends, unh! Anyway, I don’t see you eating anything either,”

 “That’s because I’m going to quietly slip it into the dustbin, without all these dramatics,” Suzie said. “ Though I must agree, this food is far from a culinary work of art, and I’m sure it would make my stomach act in a very unartistic manner. Well, to be honest, it depends what you define art as. If you like explosions, maybe this food is your kind of thing, Dei. It could be the ammunition for quite a… faecal explosion,”

 Deirdre scowled. “I don’t understand half of what you’re saying,” she confessed. “But I don’t like it, unh. You’re degrading me and my art. Ugh, Itsuki’s so lucky too. She’s not here to suffer either, unh,”

 “Yeah,” Suzie remarked drily. “Being in hospital is a futile suffering in comparison with, god forbid, eating yucky food,”

 Deirdre’s jaw dropped open in shock.

 “She went to a hospital appointment after Maths,” Suzie said.

 Konan thoughtfully picked at the lunch table’s peeling surface. “It’s such a shame,” she said. “Itsuki has brains, manners and looks… but she also has that disease,”

 “It’s always the best ones among us,” Agatha said solemnly, “Who are met with misfortune. Karma is dead. The universe is unkind. The world tears people apart,”

 “Damn, the oracle speaks!” Heidi gasped in mock surprise. “Crawled out of your coffin, have you? Welcome back. I was starting to wonder if your tongue had been ripped out, you haven’t spoken in so long,”

 “Yeah, I didn’t even notice you were there,” Suzie said. 

 This was untrue. Nobody could ignore the constant brooding presence of Agatha, their dear carrot-haired friend-turned-pincushion, even if she scarcely uttered a word.

 Konan sighed; she had certainly heard enough of her depressing reminders. “You know, forget the ‘rebellious emo’ look, you should have gone for something more like ‘tragic poet’. It would have suited you much better,”

 “I can see it, unh,” Deidre mused. “Ripped lace, feather in hat, all buddy-buddy with Shakespeare and Byron, and totally not explosive,”

 

 As Konan prepared to stand up and deposit her still-full tray, she noticed the many eyes peering at their table. Specifically, at Agatha. Year eights and tens who would have, a week ago, been crowding around her, inviting her to the shopping mall or praising the posts on her story; now they just stared and whispered. Maybe it was just because they knew that a trip to Claire’s wasn’t her thing anymore. Nevertheless, Konan noticed the uncomfort in Agatha’s demeanor; her back to the onlookers, and her eyes flitting here and there. 

 “Come on,” Konan announced, standing up. “Let’s go to Mr Kakuzu’s class and sit there,”

 “Unh, away from this traumatic cookery disaster,” Deirdre agreed.

 “Salads,” Tessa called out, as the girls stood up with their trays. After sharing confused glances, they each emptied their vegetables onto her plate, which she appreciated very much.

 “Good luck with those, unh!” Deirdre said, clapping her on the shoulder as she passed.

 

 “It looks empty,”

 The girls stood outside Mr Kakuzu’s class, happy to be inhaling air pure of the canteen’s stench. Deirdre wasn’t sure how the kids at South Academy dealt with it. 

 Konan shrugged; the room was dark and apparently vacant, so she nudged open the door and entered. They all filed in.

 The girls were hit by a wall of warm, moist, vanilla-scented air. Candles flickered from the centre of each table, casting long purple shadows across the room, illuminating it with a smoky light. From the teachers’ interactive whiteboard came lilting voices, whispering a melancholy tune. Deirdre gripped Suzie’s sleeve.

 Yet most frighteningly of all, at the teachers’ desk stood Ms Olivia, her pasty face glowing, and dark greasy hair pulled high up on her head. She held a scroll of glittery violet paper against the wall, measuring it against a metre-long ruler.

 “Hello, girls,” she drawled in her hiss-growl voice, turning to face them. The girls mumbled greetings, unsure of what to do.

 “Sorry to disturb you,” Konan said, backing away. “We’ll just be leaving,” 

 Ms Olivia bent down, reaching into one of the two baskets at her feet, and fishing out a pair of scalloped-edge scissors. “Whyever so?” she asked. “You’re welcome to stay and help here,”

 There was a squeal as Deirdre tripped backwards onto a long object on the floor.

 “A snake, unh!” she yelped, shuffling away frantically

 Suzie bent down and picked the “snake” off the floor. “A plushie,” she said.

 As she took the toy from Suzie, Ms Olivia’s grin spread to her high cheekbones. “My friend, Slithers,” she explained, placing it on the desk. It was a sausage pillow, its fuzzy green back decorated with glimmery scales. It stared at them with sharp teeth and dot eyes. “I’m sorry he frightened you,”

 

 The girls stood for a few moments, watching in alarm as Ms Olivia set out an assortment of purple stationery out on the desk; she had scale-textured pen pots, snake tail pen grips, and even a silver snake head stapler and staple remover set. As she began adorning the PC with purple sticky sequins, she knocked into one of the baskets, sending its contents scattering against the floor. 

 Instinctively, some of the girls rushed to help glean the fallen items. As Konan knelt down to chase a plastic bottle under the table, she realised it wasn’t any old plastic bottle; it was one of Mr Kakuzu’s upcycled pencil pots.

 Heidi seemed to have placed a finger on what the spilt objects were too. She clenched her fists and stepped forwards. “What the flip are you doing with Mr Kakuzu’s things?” she demanded. 

 Ms Olivia looked disapprovingly at her, smile straining uncomfortably against her artificially taut skin. “I’m just tidying up, dear,”

 “Tidying up? It’s his classroom. Not your juju snake-summoning altar,”

 “Mr Kakuzu won’t be using his classroom for a while,” she hissed. “I’m just brightening things up a bit, to suit my teaching style. I’m doing him a favour, really. Giving this… mundane classroom some atmosphere. A space for healing thoughts and reflection and artistic expression,”

 Looks of unease and disbelief were exchanged between the girls, as Ms Olivia dipped an incense candle in a carved stoneware bowl. A cloud of intoxicating iris-scented smoke billowed into Suzie’s face, stinging her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

 “Atmospheric teaching? This feels like a fever dream,” she grumbled, barely audible. “And not a nice one. If I leave these lessons with more in my head than a bloomin’ migraine, I’ll eat those candles. ”

 “Artistic expression you say, unh?” Deirdre said. “Art is explosive, colourful, dynamic. It doesn’t hide in purple candles and creepy shadows, unh! And it doesn’t belong in Mr Kakuzu’s classroom,”

 “If you lay another dirty mitt on Mr Kakuzu’s junk,” Heidi threatened, “We’ll see who gets some healing thoughts. Right to the SKULL, with that gargoyle sharpener. I can already imagine the hollow CRA-”

 “Are you sure this is conventional, miss?” Konan interrupted. “It’s very different from… the other classrooms,”

 Swallowing her anger, Mr Olivia looked at her curiously, approaching her with the click-clacking of her snake heels. “You look like you’d understand, dear,” she said. “Your eyelids… good taste, I call that. Purple is a powerful colour, isn’t it?”

 “I-”

 “I’d be grateful if you could all help me out here,” she continued, plastering her smile back on, “Especially to compensate for your… rowdy behaviour. Here are some cutouts, there are scissors in the third drawer,”

 

 Determined not to wind Ms Olivia up further, Konan ushered the girls around a relatively candle-free table, stacking the laminated A4 papers she’d been given in the middle.

 “‘Mitos-hiss’,” Suzie read disdainfully off one of the sheets. It had a purple clipart snake on it, holding up a sign explaining the aforementioned ‘mitos-hiss’. “She’s teaching science. Aided by cartoon snakes and embarrassing puns.” 

 Evidently set on defying Ms Olivia, Deirdre began wobbling a laminated sheet in her hands, drowning out the mystical music with the wubba-wubba-wubba of jiggling plastic.

 Heidi began cutting around another snake, rather jaggedly. “I’d rather be eating those zombie eyeballs than help Medusa embrace her Barney aesthetic,” she groaned. “Like HELL I would. Wannabe goth. She’ll scare the serpents of hellfire away with all that stupid glitter. Watch me BEHEAD her scaly worms,” 

 Konan rolled her eyes as Heidi snipped off the paper snake’s head with a plasticky crunch. Could her classmates not surrender to a teacher’s will for a single moment? The quicker they had this over with, the quicker they could get out of this reptilian perfume bottle. Maybe if Yuki was here, they would have been talked out of this situation by now. She had always had a way with teachers; with people, in general. The class would be a lot more tame if she was back in it. Frankly, Konan was not light-hearted or patient enough to constantly be keeping her friends in check.

 

 Agatha seemed to be thinking the same thing, as she absently snipped little strips of paper. “What do you think Yuki’s doing now?”

 “Probably winning a debate against Trump, unh,” Deirdre said. “Orange hair versus orange face. She’s girlboss like that, unh!”

 “...If she didn’t already get killed in a school shooting,”

 “HEIDI!” Konan burst out, horrified.

 “What? America’s brutal like that,”

 “Trump’s in Washington, not West Virginia,” Suzie said, patting Konan on the back listlessly in an attempt to comfort her. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s nighttime there now,” 

 “Alright,” Deirdre said. “So she’s playing a ukulele around some mountain campfire, unh, toasting marshmallows and begging the Country Roads to take her home,”

 “That’s much more accurate,” Suzie nodded, starting to cut around her third science snake.

 There were a few moments of silence, when Agatha spoke up again.

 “Home…  where is her home?” she asked contemplatively.

 “Here, obviously,” Konan said.

 Deidre nodded. “She’s British through and through. Until she starts calling pavements ‘the sidewalk’, unh! That’s a violation, unh!”

 “Once you’re British, you’re British for life,” Heidi added. “There’s no escaping it. Britannia will follow you to your DEATH,”

 “Yuki’s half-japanese,” Suzie reminded them half-heartedly.

 

 After fifteen more minutes of making the classroom “atmospheric”, Ms Olivia collapsed dramatically into Mr Kakuzu’s rickety old chair. With a groan of uncomfort, she conjured lunch from her snakeskin handbag; a Starbucks’ iced black sesame latte with oat milk. She sipped at it, its aroma mingling with the cloying scent of her candles. 

 The girls were half starved themselves; as Deirdre slaved away at the cut-outs, she thought those candles were starting to look incredibly edible. Maybe they’d make a lovely bang in her stomach, too. This could be her chance to die with an explosion.

Notes:

This isn't exaguration. British people really hate Americans this much.

Chapter 5: In which Tsunade fails to Gatekeep the Shortbread biscuits (but not her Skincare Routine)

 “Well, well, what did I do to earn a visit from such charming ladies at this hour? What a gathering,”

 “You know Ms Olivia.” Suzie stated bluntly.

 “Aha, that’s why you’re here,”

 Realising they weren’t in the mood for playing around, Mr Jerry let the four girls into the Staff Room. It was a small area, a grimy kitchen setup tucked between shelves of coloured cones, hi-vis jackets and hula hoops. Mr Jerry switched a little kettle on to boil, and gestured to the girls to sit down at the round table.

 Suzie glanced around at her companions. Konan, her co-conspirator, fidgeted with paper on her one side. The two of them had agreed that the school was coming to ruin, and that the first step to fixing it back up was getting rid of Ms Olivia. They had persuaded Itsuki, who was undeniably in Ms Olivia’s uncomfortable spotlight, to come along too. She greeted Mr Jerry and sat down, looking down at her lap modestly. To Suzie’s other side sat Deirdre, who never went anywhere without her, cleverly chiselling a piece of blu-tack into a pigeon. Heidi was ‘off sick’; though, judging from the extremely energetic make-up tutorial she had posted on TikTok at three o’clock that night, Suzie assumed she was in bed, crashed out but perfectly healthy. Agatha hadn’t accompanied her classmates either. Konan had left her to contemplate the meaning of life in the corner of a corridor, solitary.

 

 Suzie turned her attention to her English teacher, who was busying himself in the kitchen sector of the staffroom.

 “So, you’re the ones who got old Olivia as your form tutor, huh?” Mr Jerry asked, his ruddy face hidden in a cupboard. “How’s she been?”

 “Sir, How do you know her?” Suzie asked, impatient to get to the point. She tried to hold her breath as she spoke; the room smelt of decaffeinated tea and the tang of sweaty netball bibs.

But honestly, Suzie thought, even this is better than vanilla and iris candles.  

 “Know her? Ah, we go way back…” Mr Jerry smiled wistfully, plonking himself down opposite the girls with a frog-shaped mug of tea and an array of biscuits. “Classmates, once upon a time. An… interesting woman. Never would've imagined she’d wind up at this school, but that’s what she’s like. Slithering around. What trouble’s she been causing you ladies?”

 “All sorts, unh!” Deirdre said, diving in for a custard cream. “Headaches, unh. Eye aches, unh. Artistic disintegration. And creeping all of us out, unh!”

 “Miss has made some… unconventional changes to Mr Kakuzu’s classroom,” Konan interjected, aiming to make the conversation more diplomatic. “She hasn't taken any of our classes, but from what we’ve seen, her teaching style seems more suited to a zen yoga dojo than a school. Maybe she’s just not suited to the environment yet, but… she’s doing and saying quite unsettling things,”

 “I see,” Mr Jerry leaned forwards and took a long, thoughtful sip of steaming tea. Konan and her two friends were particular favorites of his, and any concern of hers was a concern of his. “Unsettling things, you say. Like what? I’ve seen a thing or two in my time… you’d be surprised with some of the weirdos they let loose in the teaching sphere. I’m not sure what Olivia joining the school means, really, but I never saw her as the teaching type. Very eccentric. Arguably child unfriendly,”

 “Like he isn’t himself,” Suzie muttered to Deirdre. 

 Mr Jerry raised an eyebrow curiously, and smiled. “Surely my Jerry-isms aren’t on Olivia’s level of wacky?”

 “Fortunately not, Sir,” Suzie replied, staring up at him unamusedly. “If your eccentricities were nausea-inducing rituals, you’d be long gone. Not that you haven’t already been on the brink of losing this job, like, once every year for your behavior. But you haven’t crossed the line into abuse of the five senses, so your weirdness is tolerable. Barely tolerable, but tolerable,”

 Mr Jerry chuckled. “A witty one, aren't you, Suzie?”

 “This isn’t funny, Sir,” Suzie said. “This needs solving,”

 “...Before we all inhale too much vanilla incense, unh, and die of flowers growing in our lungs,” Deirdre added, brushing away the crumbs congregating around her mouth. “Suffocation. What a slow, boring way to die, unh,”

 “I’m sorry, Sir,” interrupted Konan seriously. “You might have familiarity with Ms Olivia, but nobody will learn with her here. I’m saying this for all the students, including the year elevens who will fail their GCSEs if she’s their teacher, and Itsuki, who Miss has taken a strange interest in,”

  

 All eyes were on Itsuki as she slowly raised her gaze, looking up at the rest of the table through her dark bangs and eyelashes. “It’s nothing really, Sir,” she said. “But Ms Olivia has been curious about my family,”

 “And Professor Danny, too,” Deirdre added, swooping the last custard cream out of the packet.

 “Him, too? I knew nothing good would come out of that school's partnership project… not like old Minnie had any other choice.” Mr Jerry said quietly to himself. Then he urged forward a fresh dish of Jammy Dodgers.

 Suzie took one gratefully. “So, Mr Minato was forced into this project, was he?”

 “That is none of your concern, young lady,” Mr Jerry told her, wiggling his finger. “Anyway, Itsuki, if you feel uncomfortable about anything they say, don’t be afraid to pop here and tell Old Jerry. It’s inevitable that academics like them would take an interest in the research of the Uchiha family, yet I hope they don’t seek that knowledge though such a lovely lady as you,”

 “Thank you, Sir,”

 

 At that moment the door swung open, revealing Ms Tsunade, who was rather perplexed by the strange gathering before her.

 “Jerry, what is the meaning of this?” she asked in her loud, commanding voice. “I’ve told you time and time again that you can’t hold detentions in the staff room. Especially not with tea,”

 “Oh, don’t worry, the tea’s for me,” Mr Jerry replied dismissively. “They only get biscuits,”

 Ms Tsunade glared at him, arms crossed. “They can’t have those, either. Girls, out! I’ll arrange a more appropriate sanction for you another time,” she said. “Because, clearly, some teachers don’t understand the limits,”

 “Oh, you’re gorgeous when you’re angry,”

 “Jerry!”

 Konan spoke up, cutting through the tension. “I’m sorry, Miss, we’re actually not here for detention. We’ve come to talk to Mr Jerry about something,”

 “Still, with biscuits? We’re already on a low budget,” she said disapprovingly, “And I can’t get through the day without my ginger tea and shortbread. You girls eat like hungry caterpillars. Deirdre, did you just finish the last custard cream?”

 Deirdre took a moment to gulp down the biscuit which she had placed in her mouth untimely.

 “Sorry, Miss,” Deirdre said apologetically, wiping the golden crumbs from her chin. “My artistic processes require fuel, unh!”

 Tsunade sighed. “What are you girls here to talk about, anyway?”

 “Oh, just a little chat,” Jerry said. “Girl talk. You wouldn’t understand,”

 “It’s about a member of staff, Miss,” Konan said. “Miss Olivia. She’s replaced Mr Kakuzu as our form tutor, and seems to be covering some Science lessons too,”

 “Yes, I know about that all too well,” Ms Tsunade said grimly, sitting down beside Itsuki. “A very unnecessary and very impractical placement. I don’t know who employed her, but it was a bad choice. She’ll undo all my years of carefully teaching Biology! And I didn’t even need to be covered,”

 “Funny, isn’t it, Tsunade,” Mr Jerry mused, standing up and returning to the kitchen area. “The Dream Team back together again, over thirty years later,”

 “I wouldn’t call it the ‘Dream Team’. Olivia’s more like a nightmare. She’s reviving my teenage trauma. No wonder you girls are concerned,”

 “Well, either way, the Trio’s been reunited," Mr Jerry said with a chuckle. “Under the most unlikely roof. Big dreams didn’t take us very far, did they? Ahh. Herbal or decaf, Tsunade?”

 Suzie’s gaze flickered between the two teachers in scrutiny. “You know Ms Olivia too, Miss?”

 “You’re one smart cookie, aren’t you,” Mr Jerry said, sloshing the steaming kettle water into another mug. “I had a mixed bag in my school days; my class contained some of the  prettiest girls-” He winked at Ms Tsunade, “-As well as the less visually pleasing,”

 “Jerry!” Ms Tsunade growled. “You can’t say things like that,”

 Deirdre stood up and hit her fist on the table, judge style, crushing a biscuit in her clenched hand. “Hold up,” she said. “Does that mean you’re both the same age, unh?”

 Ms Tsunade shot her a look of contempt. “Never ask a lady her-”

 “We have another sharp one, do we now?” Mr Jerry interrupted. “I may look freshly hatched compared to Miss, but I’m just as forty-six as she is,”

 

 “You’re forty-six?!” 

 The question was aimed in both directions, towards one teacher in admiration and the other in horror, but equally disbelieving. 

 “I refuse to believe it, Sir, unh,” Deirdre told Mr Jerry, crossing her arms stubbornly. “I’m sorry Old Man, but you look nearing retirement age, unh!”

 “Must be the hair,” Suzie agreed, looking his grey-white mane up and down. “He doesn’t look half as young as he acts,”

 Mr Jerry wilted internally, injured by his students’ blindness to his inner youth. While he suffered from insult, Ms Tsunade basked in the attention of fawning teenage girls. 

 “Miss, you don’t look a day over nineteen,” Konan said adoringly. “I can’t see a single wrinkle on your face. What serum do you use?”

 Ms Tsunade’s rigid exterior melted as she smiled, grateful yet slightly perplexed. “Serum? Nonsense!” she replied. “It’s the result of discipline and plenty of water,”

 “That doesn’t look like discipline and plenty of water to me,” prodded Deirdre, squinting judgementally at her teacher’s face. “It looks more like Miss is gatekeeping her Korean glass skin routine, unh!”

 “A good routine, too…” murmured Konan.

 “Oh, don’t flatter me, girls!” Then Ms Tsunade switched back to her usual blunt self. “That is a very personal question. Maybe you two should start off with not worrying yourself sick over other people’s lifestyles. Stress ages you!”

 “I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” Suzie said, glancing at her watch. “As much as I would like to uncover the secrets of Miss Tsunade’s eternally un-grey hair, it will have to be done another time. First, we need to sort out this bloody catastrophe in the teaching system before lunch break ends,”

 “Don’t worry, girls, we’ll sort something out,” Ms Tsunade reassured them. “You go enjoy your lunch. Also, students are not permitted in the staff room. Out, out, out!”

 

 She ushered the girls back into the corridor, quite sceptical about the efforts their Biology teacher would put in. She didn’t seem fond of Ms Olivia herself, but teachers rarely remembered their promises. 

Konan shrugged and led the girls back to the lunch hall, leaving the smell of tea bags and rubber balls behind them.

Notes:

Yep, staff rooms really smell like that.

Chapter 6: In which the Uchihas Steal the Spotlight

Notes:

Enjoy some Kakashi-Rin-Guy interactions before we delve into the secrets of the Uchiha line...

 Kashifa was reading Mockingjay again.

 Why? It was an amazing book. One of her favorites, thumbed through again and again until the spine was ready to give away. But mostly because she felt in the mood for some crying. Persuasion didn’t make you do a lot of crying; unless you were sobbing over the big words, which Kashifa didn’t do. She ate those right up.

 

 She and Rin were swept along in the sea of students scrabbling for the gates, all flooded into this bottleneck of a corridor. Kashifa stepped around a flock of waist-tall year sevens, with brightly-coloured Smiggle backpacks. Soon they’d abandon them for the regular black Nike bags, just like the rest of the school. That’s the way it always went.

 Ahead of them in the corridor, Ms Tsunade was scolding some girls for linking arms.

 “Erika, stop clinging to her! She’s not going to run away, and if she is, it’s probably your own fault. We don’t cling to each other in this school. We are strong and independent women,” 

 Kashifa couldn’t see Erika’s face, but she was pretty sure she felt quite embarrassed. Ms Tsunade had quite a habit of yelling at people for no reason whatsoever; cons of having a loud voice. She felt sorry for the poor year ten; she’d borrowed Wonder from the library yesterday.

 Rin promptly unhooked her arm from Kashifa’s, the one that wasn’t holding a book. Obviously, the Head Girl wanted to abstain from being told off, especially in her last few months of school. 

 “Remember to revise for your Biology mocks, girls!” Ms Tsunade shouted to them as they walked past.

 “We will, Miss!” Rin called back eagerly, with a charming smile.

 “We will, won’t we,” Kashifa said when they’d passed, eyes on her book.

 Rin laughed, retaking her arm. “Well, maybe you won’t. You have double the brain cells of all the rest of us,”

 Kashifa raised her eyebrows, turning a page, not bothering to offer a reply.

 “You’ll be in bed reading your book all weekend while I grind over the Law of Moments, and you’ll still get ten marks higher than me,”

 “Yeah, well, what can I say?” Kashifa sighed. “If you’re gonna be studying the Law of Moments, I’d advise you not to study at all. Might as well carve a chocolate teapot,” At Rin’s puzzled look, she added,  “Moment is Physics, Rin. Isn’t going to get you anywhere for Biology,”

 She received a light punch on the upper arm at that. “All right, Mrs Brains. Have some mercy on us inferior beings. Anyway, my mind is already tired out from the council meeting today,”

 “Tired of Professor Danny’s voice? It aches the mind, doesn’t it.”

 “Don’t be disrespectful, Kashifa,” Rin admonished, then shook her head. “Though I have to admit, I do wish we hadn’t agreed to this school pairing project. Maybe I would have preferred if Mr Danny wasn’t rambling on about the greatness of South Foundation for so long. I understand that he’s an ambitious and successful man, but…”

 “Hm,” Kashifa agreed.

 

 “Kashifa! Rin! Wait up!”

 As they turned to walk down the stairs, Gaia bounded over to them, almost tripping up a few kids and then patting them on the head in compensation. She was a rather large, loud girl, with thick eyebrows and an abominable fringe. Despite her eccentricity, the Sports Captain was a good friend of Kashifa’s. According to Gaia, a ‘worthy rival’. Maybe even a best friend. But that couldn’t be; Rin had claimed that position for herself, even if Kashifa wasn’t sure what to think of it. Rin was well-meaning, but sometimes, people of authority inadvertently think more of themselves than they really are.

 Soon, Kashifa found her book-reading arm occupied too, Mockingjay hanging limp and forgotten in her hand.

 “What’s up, Gaia,” she asked the girl skipping eagerly alongside her. “How was Bio?”

 “Oh yeah, they split up our class for Biology,” Rin said. “For a more focused teacher-to-student environment. I haven’t seen the new teacher yet; how is she?”

 “Ah, Ms Olivia is truly a UNIQUE individual!” Gaia bellowed, speaking in all-caps as usual. “She has transformed Mr Kakuzu’s classroom into a SHRINE of some sort! Purple-y and serpent-y! Very atmospheric. She is brimming with discipline, and has taken steps - no, leaps - towards retaining her YOUTH! She must value it highly,”

 “Are you sure?” Kashifa said, doubting Gaia’s optimistic nature. “Betty said she learned nothing. Apparently the teacher is creepy and treats you all like children-”

 “Yes! She sees the YOUTH within us!”

 “Ah, of course she does. Also, there’s also rumors that she has some history with Ms Tsunade,”

 “Really?” Rin asked. “Oh, I wonder how?”

 Tessa, a rather strange member of the year nine class, appeared beside them. She could always be relied on to appear spontaneously to a site of gossip, summoned by the secrets whispered. “They went to secondary school together with Mr Jerry,”

 “Well, there you go.”

 “Childhood friends! That’s really nice,” Rin said. “It’s a coincidence they all reunited here again,”

 “Or is it?” Tessa hissed. Kashifa blinked once, and the little girl was lost to the crowd.

 

 Kashifa shook her head, as they exited the building and approached the gates. The sun cast an afternoon sunlight upon them as it dipped into the west, rays filtering through the blossoming trees beyond the school premises. Students surged out onto the pavement, jostling each other and the teachers at the exit, a polyester fruit salad of coloured jumpers.

 “What an EXCELLENT afternoon this is, radiant with the YOUTH of blossoming buds!” Gaia announced. “Kashifa! Will you come to the park with me, so we can exercise our RIVALRY? I challenge you to a swinging competition! Who shall SOAR the highest on the childrens’ swings?”

 “Not today, Gaia,” Kashifa said, adjusting her mask. “Eid starts tonight. I need to help out around the house,”

 “Of course! Duty calls! How VALIANT of you. What about you, Rin? Will you take on my offer?”

 Rin laughed nervously. “I’m sorry Gaia, I have mediation with some year eights tonight. Maybe ask Betty,”

 “What else could I expect from the Head Girl! Timetable fully packed with selfless services! How YOUTHFUL!”

 

 Itsuki passed by Kashifa as she exited the gate; but Kashifa, only just reclaiming her own arms from her friends, had no opportunity to greet her.

 Another figure slunk through the crowd after Itsuki, seemingly on her trail. 

 Suzie wasn’t one to pry; honestly, she didn’t really care about other people’s life stories, even the really messed-up ones. They just seemed to gnaw away at her patience.

 But at the moment, there were some anomalies drifting around in the cosmos, which rather offended the order of her highly-analytical mind. Suzie had some questions; questions about a certain classmate who she’d happened to spot on their way out from History class. So, she had decided to seize the opportunity and do a bit of Sherlock Holmes-ing.

 That’s why she was currently speed-walking through the flocks of students, dragging her younger cousin along with her.

 When she finally reached the sanctuary of the world beyond the school gates, where the air was freer and less revoltingly stale, she spied her subject a few metres ahead of her on the street.

 

 “Hey, Itsuki!”

 The dark haired girl came to a halt, turning back in surprise. 

 “Suzie,” she murmured.

 Suzie joined Itsuki as she continued to walk, her easily steps coming into rhythm with Itsuki’s brisk stride.

 “You’re going to pick your brother up from school, aren’t you?” Suzie asked.

 “I am,”

 “I need to pick up my cousins. It makes sense if I come with you,”

 Itsuki simply nodded, offering no response.

 “This is my cousin Tamara, by the way,” added Suzie, gesturing to the little girl who was tagging along behind them, “She’s in year seven,”

 Itsuki nodded again, glancing at Tamara and Suzie evaluatively. Suzie glanced back, her gaze equally discerning. Tamara, a harsh-looking girl with blonde hair tied into twin buns, seemed more interested in fiddling with her suspiciously wriggly backpack; Suzie assumed she’d brought that ferret of hers into school again.

 As expected, there was a tense silence as the girls walked. Neither of them were particularly conversational; Suzie didn’t see the value in explaining things about herself or her experiences to other people. They were usually too slow to understand her, and she didn’t like waiting for dim-witted people to get their cogs going round. However, now, she had an agenda that could only be achieved through speech; and fortunately, Itsuki wasn’t at all dumb. 

 Suzie was a straightforward person, usually not patient enough to go beating round the bush. But in this case, she’d have to be a bit more subtle. Itsuki was like an elusive little deer; if you just walked straight up to her, she’d scamper away before you got a peek at her. Suzie would have to creep up with little dribs of small talk, before snaring her up at the topic of interest.

 “You taking the bus down?” Suzie asked, motioning towards the red Number 20 bus that rolled past over the wet concrete, sending up a spray of puddle water as it went.

 “No, I walk.”

 “Good. I already have to spend a lot of time cramped up in public transport today. Some of my family celebrate Eid, so Grandma Chiyo is taking me and my cousins to an aunt’s place in London. For some kind of troublesome family dinner.”

 “That’s nice,” said Itsuki politely. “I hope you enjoy your celebration.”

 “It’ll be chaos. There’s a lot of us, and most of my relatives have an abominable taste in aesthetics…” 

 Suzie glanced sideways at Itsuki, spying her chance to swerve the conversation.

 “Your family’s quite big too, isn’t it?”

 “Sort of,” replied Itsuki, and Suzie could tell she already knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

 “Well, either way, they must be pretty well-known. Some of the teachers seem quite… interested in them, after all,”

 Itsuki tensed.

 “They’re involved in pharmaceuticals,” she murmured dismissively.

 “Huh,” mused Suzie, eyes narrowing. “So Ms Olivia deems you as some kind of heaven-sent mastermind because your family are… pharmacists? That seems like a grossly asymmetrical evaluation.”

 “They… own a medicine company,”

 “I see. The drugs industry…” she mused. “What’s the company called?”

 “You might not know it.”

 “Perhaps…” agreed Suzie, yet her expectant gaze did not waver.

 Itsuki hesitated before she answered, rather reluctantly;

 “Sharingan,”

 Suzie’s eyebrows promptly flew halfway up her forehead.

 What a development, she thought, taking a moment to digest the information. Who knew Itsuki’s family would own the world-famous multi-billion Japanese Pharma company? Even with basic mathematics, you could figure that she must have more than a convenient amount of money to spend.

 Itsuki’s warning of ‘not knowing’ her family’s business had been rather ridiculous. Set aside Suzie, someone with a particular interest in chemistry; everybody knew of Sharingan in some shape or form. They usually had a hand in most of the big breakthroughs, and had even made the first COVID vaccine. Walk into any chemist’s for your weekly Melody Pop, and from all sides Sharingan’s red logo would be glaring at you accusingly from half the medicine boxes stacked upon the shelves. Not that Suzie liked lollipops, anyway. It was usually Deidre dragging her around on a hunt for sweets.

 

 “Well,” Suzie said eventually, processing the connotations of the bomb Itsuki’d just dropped. “The puzzle pieces align, then, and that’s always satisfying. No wonder Professor Danny and Ms Olivia are kissing your feet like some kind of saint. When money walks into the room, those kinds of professionals always end up in primitive hysterics.”

 “Hm,”

 “Do you think there’s anything in particular they’re after? Those teachers, I mean? It’s rarely ever anything intangible when it comes to greedy academics. Any new drug your family’s developing that Ms Olivia might want to exploit for her optically-offensive decorum?”

 “I’m not sure,” said Itsuki. “They’re always developing something.”

 “Fair enough. Well, just… keep an eye out. Pretentious snobs like Professor Danny can be murderous when they get ambitious.”

 “Ugh, not him,” remarked Tamara ferociously, who was now batting the air viciously with a paper fan. “Mr Danny is an idiot. Can’t he just get lost and go back to his school rather than messing up ours? I hate him.”

 “Yes, we can tell from the way you let your weasel run riot on the stage after his speech,” said Suzie. “Did you clean up that creature’s droppings in the end, or are they still lying there behind the stage curtains for Mr Minato to trample on next assembly?”

 Tamara shrugged indifferently.

 

 The street filled with hollers as they came past a pub, red-faced men with yellowish liquid sloshing out of their cups tumbling out of the doors. They seemed to be chanting some kind of anthem, though they were all wildly out of tune.

 “Imbeciles,” muttered Suzie distastefully, as one fell flat on his face and knocked down one of the outdoor tables. 

 “There was a football match today. West Ham versus Tottenham or something,” said Tamara. “Kankuro was going on about it last night,”

 “I will never understand the hype around men in shorts kicking balls,” said Suzie. “Sureley there’s some sort of anomaly in the brains of middle-aged pot-bellied men. It must be the beer and the coffee,”

 “Boys are just stupid. Kankuro spends all his pocket money on Fifa cards, and then goes around stealing my hair scrunchies to use as strings on his puppets,”

 “Does your brother also like football, Itsuki?” asked Suzie, who didn’t want Tamara to start off on a rant about her annoying little brothers.

 “Yes. Sasuke wants to be a footballer when he grows up,”

 “Oh,” said Tamara in interest, glancing over at Itsuki. “Your brother is that Sasuke kid?”

 “Yes, I am Sasuke’s sister,” replied Itsuki coolly. “Do you know him?”

 “My brothers do,” explained Tamara. “Kankuro makes him out to be some stuck-up edgy brat who thinks he owns the football. Gaara doesn’t like him either… but that’s mostly because he’s Naruto’s friend, and Gaara’s had some obsession with Naruto recently. Apparently he’s knowledgeable about dinosaurs,”

 “I see,”

 A dangerous glint flickered across Itsuki’s eyes at such slander about her brother, and Suzie began to feel mildly anxious for her little cousin. She’d never seen Itsuki angry before, but from the rare death-stares she could deal out with those dark eyes of hers, she supposed it couldn’t be anything tame. Especially when her beloved little brother was involved.

 Since Suzie didn’t fancy dragging Tamara’s corpse across the London Underground tonight, she decided to intervene.

 “Itsuki, your brother wants to be a footballer. What are you planning to do in the future?”

 “Pharmaceuticals, I guess,” Itsuki replied, though she didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it.

 “Taking on your family’s legacy, then,”

 “Yes. And you?”

 “Embroidery. Carpentry,” said Suzie. “Anything where I can work alone in silence, without any thick-headed dunces around to plunge my mental order into chaos,”

 “Something peaceful,” murmured Itsuki wistfully.

 “Exactly,” 

 Suzie glanced towards the other girl, who appeared to be quite deep in thought. After a moment, Itsuki spoke again.

 “I… also would like peace. The British countryside is beautiful… It would be nice to move there, and do something simple. Raise chickens. Read books. Something peaceful,”

 

 At that untimely moment, Suzie felt something vibrate against her leg. Irritated by the disturbance, she reached down to pull her phone out of her skirt pocket, only to witness it being assaulted by a bombardment of texts which all seemed to be from Deirdre. 

 Amongst the rows of capital letters and streams of ‘ASDFGHJK’, Suzie spied the word ‘explosion’ and immediately felt a migraine coming on.

 With a sigh of long suffering, she switched the convulsing device to silent mode and stowed it away again.

 “Actually, countryside is sounding rather nice at the moment,” Suzie remarked drily, turning to Itsuki. “I think I might be coming with you.”

 

Notes:

Suzie gets to be arab because she's canonically from the desert
Also anybody remember Temari's weasel?? It's so underrated?? It only came in like one episode but I love it so much it deserved better

Notes:

I hope you could guess who was who :)