• Dragonair stood in line with her other last year friends, some of them sniggering at the boys in the line next to them. Dragonair sighed as she took in the cold morning air. It was first lesson, and the mist still lingered over the roof of the school. People wrapped themselves in woolly coats and thick knitted scarves. Dragonair’s best friend, Layla, was snuggled in a large Eskimo coat, and thick animal skin boots. She walked over to Dragonair with strained steps. A couple of other girls teased her, and said she looked like a spastic. Layla completely ignored them, but Dragonair could see the tears stinging her soft brown eyes.
    “We really have to do something about those stuck up pieces of s**t you know”. Dragonair whispered when Layla reached her.
    “Heh, they’ll learn one day, when they see I’m not bothered by their stupid little antics”.
    Dragonair shook her head.
    “But you are getting hurt, and one of these days their going to catch on, and then who knows what will happen”. She replied in a rush.
    Layla coughed.
    “Still cold?”
    Layla nodded.
    “Here”. Dragonair reached into her school bag and pulled out a spare coat. Layla took it gratefully and smiled.
    “Layla, Layla, keeps on getting paler. Layla Layla, fancies ‘Sid the Sailor’”. The girls at the back of the line chanted.
    Layla had a thing for a student at the school, but he wasn’t the easiest on the eyes. True he looked like a film star sailor, but his eyes were a bloodshot red. He stood in the queue next to the girls, his head hung low. Layla also had a rare disease that made her skin go pale, and she had to keep warm, due to her sensitivity of the cold.
    Dragonair darted a look to the back of the line, and the girls fell quiet. She returned her attention to Layla, who had now stopped shivering.
    She closed her eyes and smiled.
    “Thanks”, she said almost silently. Dragonair just nodded back.

    Both the lines of boys and girls fell silent when the head of the sports department came through the entrance doors. He ordered Layla inside, and when he was gone, the chatter started again. Dragonair stood on her own for a few minutes, listening to the bustle of impatient young adults. Some spoke about sports, others spoke of boys and their boyfriends. That was all they ever talked about, boys and sports, nothing exciting like martial arts or other things, like break dancing, jumping off roofs and onto street benches. Dragonair figured that these last years were boring and liked nothing more than knowing about the premier league and the hottest man of the year. Of Brad Pitt, and Wayne Rooney. And who scored the latest and best goal in the previous 7:00 match. She sighed again, and coughed when she swallowed some air. She felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned around.
    “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you”. A young girl of around 23 said. Dragonair just nodded, and took note of her glossy, red hair. She caught the girl’s scent as she swivelled around, she smelt of Jasmine and Coconut.
    Dragonair sniffed when she felt her nose run. Then she turned around again. She saw Layla and the head of department talking seriously to one another. They stood face to face, standing up. Dragonair thought she heard the harsh words: ‘Dead’ and ‘accident’, then Layla was on her knees, her hands cupped to her face, sobbing. Dragonair pushed through to the front of the line and barged through the entrance doors. Layla looked up and then turned away, and the head of department attempted to push Dragonair out of the hallway. Dragonair shoved him harshly aside with ease, and rushed to Layla.
    Her face was extremely pale, and her hair was windswept and dry. Dragonair nearly didn’t recognise her. Her eyes had bags beneath them and they were turning a shade of purple. Dragonair put a comforting hand around Layla’s shoulder, but it was pushed away. In the brief second Dragonair had held Layla, she seemed more fragile, more vulnerable then before. The head of department called Dragonair over. She obeyed silently.

    “Layla’s mother has had a terrible accident, and she died in hospital earlier this morning due to a skull fracture…”.
    Dragonair held up a hand.
    “I don’t need to know the details. All I needed to know was that Layla’s mother was dead”.
    The head of department nodded.
    “Sorry. Anyway, we are sending Layla home for the day, and then her dad will phone up tomorrow and tell us how she is. Your free to go also, to Layla’s house. I think she could use your poetic comforts”. He smiled.
    “I don’t think my comforting will help. I know what it’s like to lose someone precious and I also know that people attempting to comfort you, just makes you worse”.
    He nodded again.
    “Alright. You carry on as normal, but remember your free to go and see her any time in the day, since your in your last year”.
    “I know”. Dragonair gave Layla a last glance and then walked out the door.
    Dragonair felt for Layla, could almost taste the salty tears that Layla would have been tasting then…

    Layla turned on the shower. The head stood above her spewing hot water. Her skin turned red because of the heat. She made a hurt noise, but stepped under more, washing her greasy hair quickly. She threaded her wiry hair through her fingers, foam forming in-between her fingernails. She reached for her pink under arm shaver, and paused. She looked intently at the blades underneath the foam covering. Her heart started to beat as she looked towards the white cupboard in the corner of the bathroom.
    I thought there were some spare razors in there, she thought. She tried to prise the metal from the plastic with her wet fingers. Useless.
    She stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, and staggered to the cupboard, her vision clouded by the steam forming in the room. She reached into the shadows and pulled out a cardboard blister packet.
    She walked back to the shower, this time her vision clouded with excitement.
    She trembled as she found an appropriate place to fall.
    Anxiety gripped her throat like a cold hand as she ripped open the cardboard to reveal the sharp, fresh blades.
    She felt almost weak as she put the blades to her visible veins…

    The phone rang at Dragonair’s stuffy bungalow. She pushed a pile of study books out the way, and shoved her training kit to the side. When she finally picked up the phone, she heard the sound of water running, like a shower. It was silent for a few seconds, and then Dragonair heard a choked voice.
    “Dragonair, it’s me Layla. I’ve done it, but now I want to go back”.
    “What, what have you done?” Dragonair spoke loudly down the receiver.
    “I’ve done it, but I want to go back”. Layla repeated this over and over, as though obsessed with the line. “That makes for a good ending to a story, doesn’t it? Just like this is the end of mine”.
    “What story?” Dragonair hadn’t heard about Layla writing a book.
    “My life story, this is the end”.
    Dragonair finally caught on. She couldn’t speak, and when she tried, her voice was choked.
    “My blood flows down the shower drain, oozing from my wrists. It’s swilled around by the water, and then it goes down, in a spiralling motion that yells ‘pain’”.
    Dragonair still couldn’t speak. It was like Layla was reading her a true horror story.
    “But Dragonair, I want to go back. There’s so much I want to do in my life. There’s so much I left unfinished. There’s so much….”
    Dragonair slammed down her house phone, and then fell into the desk, her legs refusing to hold her weight. It was too late now. Layla was dead. Even though she could still speak, her soul was just an empty shell…

    School wasn’t the same without Layla’s presence. Without her jolly laugh, and her desperate attempts to be the first to finish in class. Without her determination to be the first to put a ball through the basketball hoop. Without her longing to be first…
    Dragonair sat through every lesson, with low concentration, with the teachers voice drilling through her head. With people’s constant taunting. With Layla’s last words.
    When the teacher picked on her to answer a question, she’d just burst into tears and leave the classroom. People bullied her, calling her names, making up rhymes, just like they had done to Layla.
    Dragonair’s life revolved around Layla. She fostered her attitude, her desires and her dreams. She said no to everything Layla would have said no to. She didn’t eat the foods Layla wouldn’t have liked. And she started to see things in people she never would have done before.

    It was just like that morning. That misty, winter morning when Layla had been called in, when she had gone home because of her mother, when she had committed suicide that night…
    Dragonair was standing in the same line, with the same people - minus the ones that were ill- at that same time. The head of department walked out again, using the same posture he had used before. But this time it was different news, much to Dragonair’s relief. It was simply to announce a new teacher. In other words, a new arrival that everyone would take advantage of. The one that would have to look after immature children who would send them in the wrong direction, who wouldn’t put their hand up and say it was them who chucked the board rubber at the back of the teachers head, who would put the class in a group detention.
    It was all the same, old boring news. The new teacher would leave the school out of pure annoyance within the next month - most probably.
    But he was a bit different from the rest. He wasn’t as old, wasn’t as wrinkly, and all the girls accept Dragonair were drooling over him within the first minute. He had glossy silver hair, and a slim body. He wore a vest top that hugged his abs almost perfectly, and he wore baggy shorts that came down to his knees, which also seemed so perfect. He had almost hairless arms and legs, and he was well built. The boys were suddenly filled with envy, and sulked. Some crossed their arms and others looked down, each with a sour look on his face. Some of the other sports teachers laughed, but Dragonair could tell by the tension in their chuckles that they were also slightly jealous. Dragonair also noticed a certain teacher with a gleam in her eye. She eyed the newcomer carefully until he glared at her through the corner of his eye. He smiled warmly, but obviously didn’t take as much a liking to her as she did for him.

    His name was just ‘sir’ for now. And he took both classes, boys and girls. Today it was the girls, and it was rugby, which meant jerseys, baggy shorts, and… mud - a lot of it. Dragonair disliked the thought of what lurked beneath the surface of the grass. Things like worms, slugs and ants. She also disliked what the other girls did to her. Purposely tackling her to the ground, slapping mud in her face, and pushing her into the freshly painted posts. Today though, was different, which once again Dragonair was thankful for. The girls were to busy eyeing up ‘sir’ to take any notice of her. She reckoned she could just walk away, unnoticed by them, and probably ‘sir’. He was always so wrapped up in lessons, staring at every student in turn, boy or girl. Always allowing a rubbish joke to slip from his mouth, to make the class go silent and then burst out laughing at his stupidity.
    But Dragonair never did run away. She just sat at the back of the crowd of eager students, not listening to whatever ‘sir’ was going on about. So when ‘sir’ asked for a demonstration that day, Dragonair never put up her hand. Forgot all about what Layla would have done, and just stared at the grass. An eager girl got picked to stand up and rugby tackle ‘sir’ to the ground. Then another was picked, and another. Dragonair slowly tapped into her surroundings and gasped when she realised ‘sir’ was going around the class. She was at the back, so she would be last. She just hoped they would run out of time, that somehow something dramatic would happen. But she knew that was never going to come true. They still had 45 minutes of lesson left and for something dramatic to happen in Dragonair’s life, well, it would have had to have been a miracle. But she was just being stupid, she knew. It was only rugby tackling a teacher, she’d always wanted to hurt one, but something began to make her shake. A strange sensation in her stomach. And before she knew it, Dragonair was on her feet and running for the changing rooms…

    She successfully picked the lock of the changing rooms with a paperclip she found on the floor. By this time though, her classmates had given chase, and they bashed on the door shouting: ‘coward’ through the wood. Dragonair suddenly collapsed and the others barged through the door, crashing into Dragonair’s head hard, knocking her out…

    Dragonair woke in the school clinic, lying on a white bed in a shadowed room. Her thoughts swayed as she attempted to get up. Forced to sit back down, Dragonair thought of what had happened before. She could feel the lump on the top of her forehead, and remembered the others girls shouting ‘coward’ through the door. She cupped her hands and cried, wondering why it was only her. Why she was the only one they picked on. There were uglier people in the school. There were geeks in the school. So why her?
    Her thoughts were interrupted though by a figure standing in the doorway. She recognised his tall and manly posture in the shadows. ‘Sir’ sat down on the bed next to Dragonair.
    “How you feeling?” He asked. Dragonair nodded her head.
    “I’m fine sir”. Then her crying started again. ‘Sir’ edged closer.
    “Hey, are you alright?” He put an arm around her, but Dragonair pushed him away. “Does it really hurt that much?”
    Dragonair shook her head.
    “It’s not… that”. She said between sobs.
    “Well what is it then?” ‘Sir’ got off the bed and looked closely at Dragonair’s shuddering shoulders. He took hold of them, and prised her hands away from her face.
    “I’m… being… bullied”. Dragonair brought her knees up and cried harder. ‘Sir’ just looked. He never thought from what the other teachers had said that Dragonair would cry.
    “Is everything alright sir?” The nurse entered carrying a clipboard.
    “Yeah, everything’s fine”. And ‘sir’ left without another word…

    When Dragonair got home that night, she had missed 3 calls. All of them had been from the school reception. Probably to call to see if she was at home due to her absence in lessons. It was 5:30, way after the school closed. She picked up the receiver and saw if their was any messages, but there wasn’t.
    She cooked dinner quickly, just a small portion of food and set out again. The air was still chilly, and Dragonair’s face went a rosy red. She headed down to the cemetery to pay her respects to Layla, who had previously been buried. She laid down the roses and prayed that her bullying problem would stop.
    She stayed there for a few hours, walking through the church, looking at the golden eagle, and the red carpet. She took in the features of the multi-coloured stain glass windows, and read a part of the bible. There was a piece of paper on the desk at the front of the church. It was crumpled and worn away. Dragonair opened it and read:
    There’s always someone out there who feels worse than you.
    Who feels there is no point in living.
    Who knows they are a blunted sword, never to be used again.
    It was written in neat italics and black ink. Dragonair added onto the paper.
    But nobody feels worse than me.

    It was raining and dark when Dragonair stepped outside again. The graveyard looked sinister, dark and evil. Dragonair took quick, unsteady steps towards the gates. They were locked. She tried to clamber over them, but the spikes at the top pricked her fingers. She ran back to the church. It was also locked, and things kept moving under her feet.
    Just people turning in their graves, she thought. But that didn’t reassure her. The thought of zombies and souls wandering around, turning in their graves. There was a snap of a twig. Dragonair turned. Someone was there. A tall person. A slim person. A person with a high pitched voice and evil laugh. Dragonair ran back to the gates, screaming and crying for help, but her pleas were unheard. She rattled the gates with shaky hands. The shadow followed, still laughing. It closed in on her. She was cornered, trapped like a mouse. She could feel his presence, so close to her own. She was sure he could hear her heartbeat, pumping loudly in her throat. He laughed again and then vanished, leaving Dragonair alone again, this time shaking, a fear in her eyes.
    Who is he? She thought, before running back along the path and out the back gates…

    ‘Sir’ noticed Dragonair’s desperate attempts to get away from a group of Chavs in the picnic area. She swerved in and out of the large crowds of younger children.
    They were chanting something about someone called Layla, but he couldn’t figure it out. He walked over to them, and silenced the group. Dragonair had had enough time to get away. He spoke to them, and asked a small girl about 20 years old to repeat the chant. She was stupid enough to:
    “Layla Layla, kept on getting paler,
    The alcohol she drank kept on getting staler’
    But now she’s dead…”
    Another girl clapped her hand over the other’s mouth to silence her. She smiled at ‘sir’ and denied the chant. ‘Sir’ just gave them a dirty look, and went off to find Dragonair.

    Dragonair cried in the last years bathroom. They were empty and the mirrors were stained with make-up. She sat on the sink counter and just hoped somebody wouldn’t walk in and start teasing her again.
    She stayed cramped up against the wall for the rest of lunch, before heading off to an English lesson with a tear-stained face.

    In English people asked Dragonair what was wrong. She ignored them and looked at the green and purple display beside her. The teacher looked concerned but carried on talking about some sort of way to write a long sentence. Dragonair drowned her out and stared into space, as usual.
    That lesson dragged by, and everyone cheered when the bell rang for next lesson. The teacher looked hurt, but kept her Stern-Teacher glare.
    Dragonair just walked out the classroom casually, while others rushed to a slightly more exciting lesson. Dragonair had technology next. Her teacher was a soft-faced chubby man with a ginger beard and lines underneath his eyes. He knew everything about wood, and that was all he ever went on about. In woodwork, nobody got any work done. They just passed notes and chatted to the people on their table.
    Sir scribbled something on the board that was unreadable. He picked Dragonair out to read what it said. She didn’t have a clue. The class laughed when she struggled to get the words out.
    “So, Dragonair, you’re the class clown now are you? Detention”.
    Dragonair gasped and her mouth dropped. This just made the class laugh even harder.
    “OK, outside for 10 minutes!” Dragonair silently got out of her chair and stuck her tongue out at her teacher. The class gasped then laughed again. Dragonair walked to the door and slammed it behind her.
    These people laugh so easily, at the slightest mistake, Dragonair thought. She liked the idea of being the class clown, and it might stop people bullying her as much. True, she might get some grief from the geek with the thick glasses, but that couldn’t be helped.
    5 minutes later she popped her head around the door.
    “Can I come back in now sir? The head masters coming”. Dragonair looked down the corridor and then back at her class.
    “Good, let me talk to him” Their teacher walked to the door, and Dragonair slipped unnoticed past him, and sank back into her seat.
    “He’s not here…” Sir looked to where Dragonair had previously stood, and then back to her seat. He scowled and the class laughed again. “OUT!” He boomed. Dragonair pretended to shake and got up again.
    This time when sir wasn’t looking, she made a run down the corridor and hid under the stairs.
    When sir realised she was gone, he immediately panicked. He left the class on their own, and ran up and down the corridor. He climbed up and down the stairs, and when she wasn’t there he panicked even more. He asked a teacher walking the corridors if he’d seen her. The teacher was wearing a white thin shirt and a black tie, with a pen and a pencil in his chest pocket. He had tight black trousers on, and smart black shoes. He shook his head when the technology teacher asked him and then burst out laughing at his and Dragonair’s prank.
    Dragonair let a giggle slip from her mouth when she heard her sports teacher deny seeing her. Despite her knowing this was wrong, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled, exhilarated at the thought of maybe getting into trouble.
    She had put a finger to her lips when he saw her under the stairs. He had just nodded and smiled underneath his black scarf. Unluckily, Dragonair’s laugh was heard by her teacher, and she was dragged to her learning managers office where she sat for the rest of the school time.

    During break the next day, she attended her detention. Much to her surprise though, ‘sir’ was there, speaking to the technology teacher. Her hand reached for the door, shaking slightly.
    What if he shouts at me real bad? She thought.
    They laughed about something and then Dragonair knocked on the door. ‘Sir’ looked stern for a second, when Dragonair walked into the room. Dragonair’s frown deepened, leaving lines in her forehead.
    “This young lady has been playing pranks on me throughout yesterday’s lesson. Even got me worried when she was hiding under the stairs”.
    ‘Sir’ nodded and made a surprised noise.
    “Strange for you to act so stupid isn’t it?”
    Dragonair didn’t answer. She just perked her head up and took a seat.
    “So. What’ll it be? Lines, writing on the board? Or sitting here for 30 minutes in silence?” Dragonair asked.
    Her teacher just looked at her blankly and then said:
    “Sit in silence”. He was surprised by her rude response.
    Dragonair made an annoyed noise and then went silent.

    Those 30 minutes through break dragged by, like most of her lessons. But because it took so long, and because break meant food, Dragonair’s stomach grumbled constantly. ‘Sir’ kept on looking over longingly obviously hearing her stomach’s complaints. Dragonair just turned red, and looked down.
    The bell went in what felt like an eternity. Dragonair lifted herself to her feet. While she was walking down the corridor, ‘sir’ offered her some food. She took it gratefully and ate it on the way to sports.

    Dragonair was smacked hard in the face in rugby, by purpose or accident. It was during a tournament between the girls, only with a different teacher who didn’t seem to care about the violence that was occurring. Dragonair fell to the floor endless times, and by the end of lesson, she was covered in mud. Something she didn’t like whatsoever. She showered quickly and put on fresh clothes.
    ‘Sir’ was outside the changing rooms, eating his lunch - just a ham sandwich. He met Dragonair outside.
    “I saw what happened on the pitch. You alright?” He looked into Dragonair’s bruised eye. He touched it, but Dragonair pulled away. A girl passing by, eyed Dragonair evilly. ‘Sir’ looked at her the same way. She just looked on.
    Dragonair stood in the toilets again, this time applying thick eyeliner. A tall woman with brown, curly hair walked in and waggled a lighter and some sort of key in front of Dragonair’s face. Dragonair just shrugged in an ‘I don’t care’ manner.
    “Heard you became more popular?”
    Dragonair shrugged again.
    “You could say that”.
    “You just made a couple of people laugh in class and now you’re the cream of the crop, right?”
    “I’m not the most popular in the school, how about you?”
    “Heh, I consider myself to be quite popular”.
    “Never seen you before”. Dragonair said casually. It was true, she hadn’t seen the lanky last year before, even though she knew most people in her year and below.
    “Why? YOU!” She walked out and locked the door. Dragonair suddenly panicked when realisation struck her, when she saw the flick of a flame, when the fire was started…

    “HEY! LET ME OUT YOU STUPID COW!”. The fire alarm went off, and by then, Dragonair realised it was too late. She crashed herself against the door, rebounded off the wall. Shouted through the clouded windows. She saw the spark catch on the hand dryer, and the plastic covering fell off. It burst into flames, and Dragonair shielded her stinging eyes. She fell to the floor, in tears, as smoke started to seep under the door...

    The teachers took the registers, calling names loudly, suddenly in a rush. Dragonair’s form was missing quite a few at the start, but they arrived later.
    “Hiroshi Dannerkart?”
    “Here miss”.
    “Dragonair Draco?”
    There was silence.
    “Dragonair Draco? Where is she?”
    There was more silence. Everyone looked to the place Dragonair should have been. It was true, she wasn’t there…
    ‘Sir’ looked around urgently. He was standing by Dragonair’s form, and heard the gasps and whispers spreading.
    “Where is she?” He asked her form tutor.
    “We… we don’t know. But we need to get someone to go and find her!”
    Would the bullies really go this far? He thought silently. Then he darted off to the ladies toilets…

    Dragonair could feel her eyes sting and her throat burn. She never heard ‘sir’ shouting through the door, coughing.
    He stood there, panicking more. He could see Dragonair through the steamed up glass, just a scrunched up figure against the walls. He tried the handle. The door was locked.
    This was definitely done on purpose, he thought. He stepped back against the wall, and then ran. He hit the door with all his weight and strength. Something clicked. He tried the handle again. The door opened silently, and more smoke came out of the room. The hand dryer in the corner of the toilets was spreading flames fast. Dragonair was still scrunched up, nearly unconscious, maybe even nearly dead.
    ‘Sir’ lifted her off the floor, and put her hand around his neck.
    “Hold on”. He whispered into her ear. Dragonair murmured something that ‘sir’ couldn’t understand. He attempted to open the door again, but something was holding it from the outside, a dark shadow.
    “That’s not going to work Kakashi”. He heard it say. He coughed violently before barging open the door with his back. The shadow let go and Kakashi fell to the floor, Dragonair still in his arms, with the flames still growing higher. Dragonair looked up from where she was. She noticed ‘sir’ underneath her, and a shadow to the side of her. She realized what it was, but she couldn’t move. The shadow laughed and then disappeared like the last time. ‘Sir’ coughed violently again then got up.
    Was he really who she thought it was? Kakashi Hatake? He held her tightly and ran from the school building.

    The ambulance and medics gathered around them both almost immediately. Dragonair started coughing when ‘sir’ put her down. He collapsed next to her. An oxygen mask was strapped over his mouth, and his head was lifted so he didn’t choke. He took deep, strained breaths.
    Dragonair stopped coughing and stared at him. It looked exactly like him. The same hair. The same eye covered by a messy fringe. The same mask that covered his nose and mouth. But Dragonair was sure, he used to be a ninja…

    Everything was black, except a wispy white figure that stood in front of her. Dragonair could feel it’s cold presence slowly reach out to her. She wanted to take it’s hand, just for it to take hers, but she could still hear people on the other side…
    She opened her eyes, but was blinded by a strong white light. She couldn’t remember how or why she was lying there. The pain was intense, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remove it.
    How could this happen to me, she thought. I’ve made my mistakes, but now? I’m sick of this damned life, if only I could scream…
    Everyone was screaming. She tried to make a sound but nobody heard her. She was slipping off the edge, hanging by a thread.
    If only I could start over, she wondered.
    Then she tried to recall upon happy memories, when nothing mattered. Her and Layla, playing in the fields as ‘new arrivals’, and then to ‘sir’ who had made her happy, and tried to save her life.
    But that still didn’t explain what happened, and that didn’t erase the sadness she felt.
    How could this happen to me? She thought again. She remembered everything she’d done in her life. She was fading away.
    The white light opened up to her, and the people’s screams and pleas died out. Her eyes slowly closed…

    Kakashi sat up in his bed. Someone was sitting near his bedside table. His eyesight adjusted.
    “Cheryl?” He murmured. He felt a soft hand against his chest. Her smile was warm, and it welcomed him from his sleep.
    “Sleep now Kakashi”. She pushed down with her hand, and Kakashi settled down onto his back. Cheryl pulled the sheets tightly around his neck. “How’s the mission?”
    Kakashi grimaced. “Not good. Why are you here?”
    “I told you I would always be waiting for you to come back”. She smiled and cocked her head slightly. He realised she was sitting straight and politely, with her hands cupped in her lap. He also noticed she was wearing what looked like a nurses uniform, but was obviously something from Debenhams.
    “But we split up a while back, and I told you never to bother coming to look for me”.
    Cheryl sighed.
    “I know. I guess I was just mad over you”.
    “Heh, I guess. You always used to say that”. Kakashi stared upwards, to the ceiling. Cheryl tucked a strand of curled, brown hair behind her ear, and laughed silently. Kakashi smiled at the ceiling, though it was meant at Cheryl. He thought quickly of Dragonair, how blackened with ash she had looked. His smile soon turned to a sad frown.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Umm… nothing”. Kakashi shook his head and looked at Cheryl once more. She smiled at him, with her eyes shut. Kakashi did the same. The door opened.
    “Miss, visiting time is over”.
    “Ok”. She looked at Kakashi. Her eyes looked stern for a second. “I will get it out of you”, they said. Then they softened. “I will always love you Kakashi”. She blew a kiss, and Kakashi went a slight red. He watched the door shut, before smacking his head into his pillow and wishing Dragonair to be truly ok.
    I love you more, then I love her, he thought.

    Dragonair’s form tutor saw her student’s eyes start to flutter close. She grabbed for her shoulders, screaming her name. One ambulance would be at the hospital now. The doctor had said there was nothing to worry about. If only they could have taken both of them.
    The class started to gather around, most of them starting to cry. Dragonair’s form tutor also shed a tear. It hit Dragonair’s own eye, and fell down her cold face. Clouds formed in the sky, and a light rain fell. Students hung their heads and looked down at Dragonair, their heads shading hers.
    The teacher felt for a pulse and a heart beat even though it was obvious there wasn’t one. She pulled away, and ordered a sports teacher to lift her from the damp floor. She left a woman sized dry patch which was soon darkened with wet.
    “Someone needs to call the hospital, and the funeral services…”

    Kakashi turned his rusty key into the lock and slid the door aside. He walked into his classroom, smelling the old chalk that still left smudged lettering on the blackboard. He picked up the board rubber and swept the writing away. He rubbed the back of his head and his eyes.
    It must have been around 8:30 at night, and he had had to ask the caretaker for a spare key. Now, he rearranged the chairs and tables to his liking, in rows of four. Dragonair sat at the front in class, if she wasn’t running wild. He looked at her seat and thought of her.
    Somebody rapped on the doorframe before entering. Cheryl stood there, in the same skinny fit dress as before.