In a rare current of events, the fiery pop-obsessed dropout was nervously tugging at the hem of her clothing and a boy wasn't the topical worry. Well, no, she supposed it was a boy, just not the marketable kind. She had excitable and perhaps even desperate standards, but even she recognized the Academy Director as a non-starter. Without romance on her mind as an outlet - or even the means to be pompous or boastful - Mei-Mei had devolved without a strong skeleton to fall back on.

Growing up, this was her dream. Growing up, it had been a fantasy fulfilled more than once with the old Director -- when she was still a "good girl", still boasting the Kimura values and dominating every practice and demonstration set before her. She both did & would have excelled in this circumstance as she used to with everything, but that was all before The Event. That was before she Awoke to her Real Passion and T - well, you get the idea. She used to be a fantastic student and now she wasn't one at all, about to face-to-face with the man who could most criticize her for it.

It's not as if she had completely abandoned her studies, despite her best efforts. There was something to be said for those aforementioned "Kimura Values", and as much as she wanted to fully embrace this new lifestyle after she had so easily molded into a second skin around herself, she couldn't sit well enough with letting her entire lineage down. There was a lot of pressure there; from her ancestors, her parents, the Hokage - a cousin she doesn't think she's ever met, but his mere presence was a big shadow to fill - and even her modern fantasies couldn't fully eclipse those burdens.

As appeasement, she continued to meet with a tutor ... every so often. She kept up her practices ... at odd moments, and idly flexed her abilities ... when required. She was still, as her parents would put it - and as she'd agree - a "prodigy", yet without the motivation or practical application to do anything with that she could no more than claim to be much of anything. Not a ninja, at least. It didn't matter that she didn't want to be one. Not to her family, not to the village ... nor to the Academy, she presumed. There were standards to uphold, and for once they weren't her own.  She was damn good and she knew it, but with the meager skills she had acquired before up and throwing that life away, it wasn't exactly something she could present as a defense towards the Director should he be walking in to chide her.

She shifted in her chair, one heeled foot finding space above the other to clack her non-ninja-grade shoes together and mesh fur until neither boot could be seen to start or end. A tug pulled her coat over her front, a modesty she rarely afforded to the public but one she was all too happy to employ with what she was being faced. Even now she was a shock of color, from the waterfall of red down her shoulders and back in the neatly-tidied tresses of her hair; to the loud, glittery, gilded and tinted shades of her attire and accessories. While the Kimura were prestigious they were not rich, and this high-class air was a glamour and nothing more. One she was very, very proud of her.

Still, she was here. She had obeyed the summon her parents had received, polite and/or terrifying as it might have been, and she currently sat at full attention within the Director's office. Mulling over her thoughts, and tapping her nails frantically across any nearby wood surface when those thoughts turned to concerns and further more to anxieties.

[ 652 ]

"Kisei, I believe the time for your appointment is nearing soon." B-ordis beeped outside the C.O.R.E frantically. I popped my head out to confront him, "Can't it wait? I think I'm almost done with the stabilizing agent." B-ordis from the Opera House cube have a thumbs down emoji, and I just rolled my eyes.

"I understand how.. driven -ObSeSsEd- you are with this machine and Root. However you shouldn't neglect your duties to the academy either. Didn't you say you wanted to help the next generation and teach them -WAR!- morals?"

I whipped my head around to look at B-ordis' cube, which was blushing an embarrassed shade of red. "I really need to check you for glitches, they're getting worse." B-ordis just continued to beep in protest, glitching into his violent episodes occasionally. Though I hated to admit it, they were right. This kind of meeting was a special one, and I couldn't just blow it off for another ice cream session.

"Fine. How much time do I have?" I asked, disentangling myself from the new machine I was constructing. As I reached over to shrink the Opera House and pocket it, the Cephalion flashed a 5 minute timer on the top face. "Five minutes to cross half of Konoha, not too bad." I shrugged to myself as I grabbed my umbrella. Hopefully I wouldn't need to rush too much.

~~~

Like a shadow, Kisei the academy director stalked through the shadows of the Konohagakure. Somewhat unconventionally, I was using the Hiding in Shadow technique to ignore the traffic. Dashing along the path of shadow that appeared only during Konoha's busiest workdays. The collective shadows of hundreds of Konohagakure civilians lending itself nicely to my journey. Eventually I emerged from the shade of the academy building.

"Excellent work Kisei, you still have a minute to spare. Game plan?" I huffed reflexively, the Cephalion almost sounded pleased inside my jacket pocket. "Obviously, the only way we do things like this."

B-ordis beeped suspiciously. "You can't possibly mean-" I cut him off mid-sentence. "Yep." And without another word I started sprinting up the academy walls. As I ran, B-ordis started protesting and screaming. I rolled my eyes. Meanwhile my mind quickly drew up the blueprints of the academy. Starting from the entrance my mental vision instantly jumped towards the office, forming two points of references, and comparing that to where I was on the outside.

"Master, I think that you just jumped over the window to your office-" Opps. Without further adieu, I did a backflip from my spot, free falling before I stuck a hand through the glass, strategically shattering it so that it harmlessly fell straight to the floor. Then I slowly crawled my way through.

"Hm. How much time do I have left?" I asked smugly. "Fifty... Seconds.." the A.I said tiredly. Swiping the glass off my office seat with my umbrella I fell into the cushion and absentmindedly placed a hand on the broken glass. Almost like magic, because it was, the shattered pieces of pristine cheap diamond flew back to the main frame and in a moment it was almost as if nothing was broken in the first place.

When that was settled, I would finally notice the presence of another in this room. Assuming they haven't left or expressed their presence with screams yet. "Ah, pleased to finally meet you Ms. Kimura." I said, my voice suddenly much deeper. B-ordis was quick to point out the problem.

"The mask, Takao?" They said in my own voice. I chuckled in Takao's typical dryness and pulled the skeleton-esque Root mask from my face and sealed it within my locker. "Pardon me Ms. Kimura. One if you saw what happened ten seconds ago, two for the mask." I coughed dryly, pulling out the A.I and the shrunken Opera House it was bound to and placing it on my desk. The cube beeped in affirmation.

"Anyway, if you are ready, I'd like to start immediately. Tea?" My right hand gestured to the repurposed coffee machine to my right.


703

"Cousin?" To say that Mei-Mei was taken off guard would be an understatement -- and while tempering her wasn't difficult, leaving her absolutely flabbergasted was a feat the Academy Director could now wear on his belt. Her mouth hung slightly opened, a disheveled look to both her eyes and her clothing when she jumped, startled, at not only his entrance but his voice. She managed to catch herself, struggling with the words and barely calling them. "I -- apologize. I, mean, Lord Hokage?" Yes, truly, that was her concern at the moment. She doesn't remember a time she had been around Takao Kimura in a non-formal setting, let alone one with enough levity or intimacy to refer to him as family. He was a shadow she lived under, though not quite one she aspired to fill.

A hand had dug into the arm of her chair, perfect nails curled imperfectly in a tight, anxious ball of piercing red. She didn't even take her usual moment to straighten herself up and regain her air of both impertinence and general disinterest -- she was coiled, angled, both tense & completely stripped of her ability to defend herself. It was readily apparent she wasn't under attack, but the shock to her heart slammed her right into that fight-or-flight response ninja rely on. She wasn't proud of that, but could scarcely get herself to meet the situation with anything else.

It was a solid minute of two after the strange voice spoke and the mask was taken off the Director's face that Mei-Mei could vaguely recognize him, and after ascertaining that he was not, in fact, the Hokage web-slinging into the Academy office to chastise her personally -- well, it was minutely easier to calm herself. He treated this entire ridiculous scene with such a casual perspective that it became difficult, even, for Mei-Mei to not mold herself into it. If Mei-Mei had any real skill, it was acting so well she became the character. Right now, she had to be the "model, but detached student" ... not the person she was, really. Nor the person she had become during her reaction.

She could do this. She could play any role. Her body weight shifted, a slight clear to her throat and a few blinks of her eyes steadying that honeyed gaze to linger on the man she had come to meet. A hand lifted to her hair, finally working through the mused strands until everything had its place and was back where it was meant to be. Order, with an incredible hint of irony in that, was Mei-Mei's saving grace. "You're quite alright, Mr. Director. I'm very sorry for my ... response. Obviously, you are not Lord Hokage. I am very gracious for you giving me your time today."

A small pause, just enough to finish collecting her bearings and fitting herself into the scene. "I must ask - if you'd be so kind to oblige - why ... exactly have you given me your time today, sir? I can't imagine there's much you'd want to discuss with ...," a dropout? A possibly misguided soul? A highly fashionable, compulsive obsessive boy-crazy teenage girl? " ... me." Perhaps she could imagine.

Her eyes followed his hands and his strange contraptions, trying with much difficulty to refrain from pointing out these complete absurdities. She felt she had almost fallen down some sort of rabbit hole, and everything was upside-down in a way that she must learn to adapt to.

"No thank you, Sensei." A polite, but pointed, denial of his offer.

[ 607 | 1259 ]

‘Mr. Director? Ha, I can already tell where this was going.’ I mentally rolled my eyes, some of Takao’s smirk keeping to my face. Silently, I placed the shrunken Opera House B-ordis resided inside on top of the desk and leaned my umbrella against my desk. After she declined the offer of tea, I shrugged, before I started to answer her question. “Hm. ‘Not much.’ Precisely, precisely…” I sounded out the word carefully, ‘quite a strange collection of letters’ I noted to myself. “Consider it one of the fickle whims of your eccentric director Ms. Kimura.” Without breaking eye contact I used my pinkie finger to open the drawer and pinch a single folder between my ring and middle fingers. Sliding the collection of papers effortlessly into both hands. I subtly eyed her wardrobe, loud, way too fabulous for the current me, but very modernly fashionable. Apparently? I was not a man of popularity or fashion, but this one practically screamed it. Already the back of my mind was calculating, simulating, and analyzing the one in front of me. Without much preamble I pulled out a familiar piece of paper, it showed an almost completely different girl than the one that was here now though not much time had past. The girl in the papers spokof confidence, direciton and initiative. Almost a splitting image of her cousin at least as far as academics went, I shuddered to think about him… Then we had the girl who had dropped out in all but name. Their instructor was pleased about their capabilities but had left off with a thread of disappointment in disicpline, and hinted on their ‘interests’. Well if that outfit didn’t give it away I don’t know what would have.

“And, please, call me Mr. Kisei. Director makes me sound old… But anyways, since this is our first time meeting we’ll start small.” Leaning back into my chair I looked straight into their eyes with the look of a crazed scientist, intent, slightly amused but curious. “What are your interests?”

I shrugged, “What do you like, what inspires you? What makes you get up in the morning and confront this messed up world we live in, eh?” I winked, “Allow me to monologue, but if I was to pose this question to one of your classmates they probably wouldn’t be able to give me a straight answer. Although to be fair, most of them are still around 11 years old. Being nearly an adult, I can imagine that you’ve discovered a purpose for living.” I shrugged carefreely, “Oh, and do try to tell this in as much detail as possible, and honestly. The more your follow those two guidelines the more you’ll help the both of us in the long run. I can assure you as much.” Tapping the hilt of my steel umbrella, I patiently awaited the young Kimura’s answer. Much anticipated it was, and exciting. Though the question was fair loaded to be honest, instead of being a single question, it was multiple questions that filtered into three effective ones. Hopefully, I’ll be able to tell what I was dealing with here; depending on which she answered and how she responded. There was no mention of any medical reasons for her sparse private tutoring, so I’d have to pin this on either her family or her own decision. Was this personal, or external? Either way, no matter how it went, I’d be able to appropriately help to the best of my ability.


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