Woot! Another serial fic. I promise this one will be a bit more punctual than the last. Akatsuki fangirl's honor.

Anyway, this is an AU, sort-of KisaIta fic, but not really. You have been warned.

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A thirteen-year-old Kisame took a deep breath as he stood outside of his homeroom at his new school. Oh God, another school, he said to himself. It's like jail, except with more pencils. Sighing again, he made his way into the room. This could be either way better than the last time or way worse. Guess I'll just have to wait and find out.

Scanning the class for an empty seat, he noticed that the students were sitting at tables, which sat two each, instead of the normal desks. Great, so I can't avoid talking to someone, he thought, as he made his way to the back of the room where an empty chair was located next to a boy with long, raven-colored hair tied back into a neat ponytail, sunken-in eyes, and black irises. Granted, this kid didn't seem too overjoyed that Kisame was coming his way, but the kid's emotionless stare was way more appealing than the odd looks that Kisame was getting from the others in the room.

Dropping his books down onto the table space in front of the empty seat, he sat down and started flipping through the new assignment book the people at the school office had given him. I don't even use these things, why do I need to carry one around? Kisame asked himself, finding the date. Folding down the edge of the page, he noticed that they boy he was sitting next to was staring at him.

Turning his head, Kisame flashed a quick, non-toothed smile. "Hey," he said, hoping that the boy next to him wouldn't start a conversation or something. Kisame wasn't antisocial; he was, however, reluctant to get comfortable somewhere. Lord knows he'd have to move again in a couple weeks anyway.

"Hey," the other guy said, returning the greeting. He blinked. "You're new, right?"

"Yeah…."

"So, where ya from?" he asked in a monotone.

Kisame sighed. "I've lived in a lot of different places, but I was born in Japan," he answered reluctantly. "Before here, I was in New York City."

The black-haired kid looked to the front of the class. "New York, eh? I've been there. Nice place, if you stay out of the projects."

Kisame gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I guess."

The kid paused. "You're Japanese too, right? Which part?" he asked, turning to face Kisame.

Kisame let out a silent grunt. Who did this guy think he was? It was none of his business where Kisame was from. "The eastern part, I guess. You?"

Black-Hair turned away again. "Central, if you want to put it in directions." Glancing back, his eyes seemed to flash red for a second. "Name's Itachi."

Kisame blinked in confusion. Okay, so now this guy thought it was okay just to introduce himself? Egomaniac. "Kisame," he replied in a flat tone.

Itachi nodded. After a moment of silence, he inquired, "You are aware that you're blue, right?" referring to Kisame's blue-tinted skin.

"No, I just wonder why people always play that damn "I'm Blue" song whenever I walk into a room, and I wonder why people stare at me, and I wonder why I'm a social outcast pretty much anywhere I go," he retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Point taken," Itachi answered. "So, how'd it get that way?"

"Uh, that's really none of your business."

The other boy let out a blink-and-you-miss-it smile. "Let me guess," he started, "they filled a pool with blue paint that looked just like the normal water would have, and you unknowingly jumped into it and painted yourself, and the paint hasn't come out?"

Oh, so now this kid could just make guesses about stupid things that don't matter? "No," Kisame lied.

Itachi's smile stretched a couple more seconds. "You're a very bad liar, Kisame," he said.

So what if the stupid long-haired fag had guessed correctly at why Kisame was blue? That didn't give him bragging rights. "What makes you think I'm lying?"

"Because you're blushing with embarrassment." With that said, Itachi broke out into laughter, trying desperately to cover it up by putting his hand in front of his face. Kisame noticed that each fingernail had been painted a medium, matte purple.

Oh, so now I'm getting ridiculed by pansy faggots? What has this world come to? he asked himself rhetorically.

The guy's laughter subsided, leaving him with his composed attitude once more. "That must suck," he said insincerely.

"Yeah, I guess."

------

In Kisame's first period class, art, he was surprised to find that Itachi was there, sitting a few tables away from him. What, he doesn't think annoying me in homeroom is good enough? Needs to follow me? Kisame thought, irritated.

Then, in his second period English class, he saw Itachi sitting in the front row of desks, by the windows. Oh, come on! Now you're in my second period, too?!

Things didn't get better when third period reading rolled around, since the raven-haired kid was in that class, too.

Kisame lost it fourth period, though, when he found out that he had to sit next to Itachi. God damn it, is he TRYING to annoy the hell out of me? Kisame almost yelled out. His eyes widened. Or maybe he's STALKING me. Oh God, please don't let it be that, he prayed.

At the end of fourth period, Kisame was determined to not run into Itachi until the end of the day. Of course, fate would not let that happen.

While on his way to the band room, where Kisame had fifth period, he literally ran into Itachi. "Hey, what the hell?!" he yelled as he involuntarily dropped his books.

The other boy, who had been knocked over by the crash, got up and gathered his stuff. "Well, it's not my fault that you can't watch where you're going- oh, it's you, Kisame," he said. "Just the person I wanted to see. Come on, you're going to band, right? I'll introduce you to the band teacher."

What makes you think I want to met the damn band teacher, anyway? Maybe I'd just rather not know him and just-

"Okay, Kisame, this is Mr. Zete. Mr. Zete, this is Kisame, the new student," Itachi said as the both of them walked into the band room.

Mr. Zete turned around to face the blue-skinned kid. "I'm Mr. Zete," he started, "and I'm going to be your band teacher." The crazy guy had frizzy brown hair and plastic neon blue-rimmed glasses.

No shit. "Er, hello," Kisame said politely. If there was one thing that Kisame was good at, it was being polite, even when he wanted to rip the other person's throat out.

"You're a sax player, right?" Mr. Zete continued. "You can go sit with your section, though you don't seem to have your instrument with you…"

Kisame let the teacher trail off as he pulled up a chair at the end of the saxophone row.

------

All through class, Kisame could tell that the person sitting next to him was staring at him. But, whenever Kisame glanced over to see if he was or not, the person would just look away.

During Mr. Zete's ramble about how fun his Disney trip was, the kid who was supposedly staring at Kisame finally got the courage to speak up.

"Uh, dude, you know that you're blue, right?"

"No shit."

Offset by Kisame's rudeness, he stuck his tongue out at him. "Freak," he said, returning to playing.

Ten minutes to the bell, Mr. Zete clapped his hands twice. "Done for the day, guys. Pack up!"

Kisame looked around. People were taking apart their various instruments, folding their stands up, and storing both on the left-hand side of the room. Since he hadn't brought anything that needed to be put away, Kisame put his books on his lap and took out the half sheet of paper that was his schedule.

Lunch next? He thought. Wonder where I'll-

Kisame's thought was interrupted by Itachi, who had sat down beside him.

"That your schedule?" he asked in his monotone.

"Yeah, why?"

"Can I see?" Itachi asked, pulling the half sheet from Kisame's hands. He obviously wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

After a few seconds of silence, the black-haired kid blinked. "We have the exact same schedule," he said, breaking the silence.

Kisame forced a smile. "Eh, yeah….crazy, huh?"

"Need help finding the cafeteria?" Itachi inquired.

"Er, sure, I guess……."

The monotone kid let out another second-long smile. "Cool. Just follow me when the bell sounds."

------

Kisame reluctantly followed Itachi to the lunch room, wondering why the quiet kid was so willing to help him out. He probably just wants something from me, he thought. That's what they all want, something that they can benefit from………

He glanced around the cafeteria the same way that he had at the beginning of homeroom, hoping to find somewhere out-of-the-way.

"Hey, Kisame," Itachi called, "are you going to sit with me?"

Kisame examined Itachi's facial expression. If Itachi was just inviting him to be polite, or if he honestly wanted to sit with Kisame, he wouldn't know by looking at his (Itachi's) face. "If you want me to, why not……" he replied uncertainly.

"Good. Follow me," Itachi instructed.

What is with this kid and having people follow him? Kisame wondered.

------

Itachi plopped his books down at a table in the very far right-hand corner of the cafeteria. There were at least six other tables around, but no one was sitting at any of them.

"Um, Itachi, are we allowed to sit here?" Kisame asked, as he carefully put his books down.

"Of course. If we weren't, we wouldn't be sitting here," he replied in a flat tone.

Kisame looked around at the rest of the cafeteria, which seemed very far away. "And you normally sit here by yourself?"

Itachi nodded. "I don't like being amongst a lot of people, so the teachers let me sit here," he explained.

"Don't you ever get lonely? I mean, watching everyone else socialize while you're all the way over here…"

Itachi grunted (if you could call a slight 'hm' a grunt). "No. Unlike most of the people that go to this school, I'd rather spend my time with one person who can hold their own in an intelligent conversation than be around ten people who can't spell 'angst.'"

"Er, okay….."

------

After the two had gotten their food and started eating, Itachi persisted with asking Kisame questions and unknowingly angering him.

"You're teeth are pointed," he said as Kisame bit into a forkful of mashed potatoes. "Did you file them or something?"

Kisame sighed, as there was no getting around a straightforward question like that. "No, I didn't file them, they're just naturally like that."

Itachi blinked. "Okay, then what about the bandages? The ones on your cheeks?"

Kisame dropped his fork involuntarily at this statement. "What the hell do you care?" he asked sourly. He had almost forgotten the cloth bandages that he usually wore draped over his cheeks and jawbones, hiding his V-shaped scars. The scars which had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

"Just curious," the other boy replied quietly. "They're too lose to have and medicinal value-"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU CARE IF I HAVE BANDANGES ON MY FACE??!! IT'S ABSOLUTELY NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!!" Kisame yelled, standing up and leaning over the table, as if to throttle Itachi.

Itachi leaned back to avoid Kisame's attempt at strangling him. "I told you, I was just curious," he said in his signature monotone. "Sorry."

Kisame sat down, and a vein appeared on his forehead. "If you're so sorry, then why doesn't it sound like you mean it? Know why? 'Cuz you're obviously not."

"No, I mean it," Itachi retorted. "I always talk in a monotone if I can help it. It's just me," he said.

"Pfft." Kisame crossed his arms, gazing off through the windows at the front of the cafeteria.

After a few minutes to let Kisame cool down, Itachi asked another question. "So, Kisame, you said that you had been to different places. How's Cleveland comparing?"

Kisame sighed, eyes closed, answered, trying hard not to beat up the seemingly frail kid across the table from him. "Still waiting to see the infamous 5-minute Cleveland weather. Other than that, it's pretty nice. Not as big as San Fran, and not as crowded as New York."

Itachi eyes grew wide (something that NEVER happens). "San Francisco?! You've been there?"

Kisame nodded with a slight grin. "Mm-hm. And Memphis. And Dallas. And……well, I've been lots of places, like I said."

"Wow," Itachi almost cooed. "Why do you move around so much?"

Kisame opened one of his closed eyes. "That," he said, "is for me to know and for you to never find out."

Itachi gave him a confused look. "Okay, then….."

------

The rest of the day was a blur for Kisame. Tech class blended smoothly with science, as science class mixed with math. Once the last bell rang, he almost didn't know what he was doing until he opened his locker. Okay, so there's math, science, and English homework, he thought. That means I need my math textbook, that weird doldrum worksheet, and that instruction sheet for that poem… His mind was clouded as he stuffed the homework materials he would need into his backpack.

"Kisame," a familiar monotone called. Itachi had once again broken Kisame's train of thought.

"What?"

"Well, you sort of avoided me during the after-lunch classes," he started, "and I just wanted to apologize."

Apologize? For what? Being his fag self?

"Look, Kisame, I'm sorry I asked so many questions. It's just that….you made me curious, so I…..well, I'm sorry." Itachi hung his head a bit for sincerity.

Kisame grunted. "Well, just don't do it again, I guess," he said with a shrug.

Itachi then did something totally unexpected. He took Kisame's hand, like a boyfriend would his girl's, and inspected his nails. "You're nails are so much bigger than mine," he started. "I have to come over and paint them sometime. How about tomorrow after school?"

Kisame stood in shock. Did he just offer me a manicure?! he asked himself. "Er, sure, I guess….."

Itachi smiled slightly. "Cool. Tomorrow it is, then," he said, walking away.

Woah, Kisame marveled. I guess I'm having my nails done tomorrow.

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Okay, bad ending, I know. I couldn't figure out another way to put it. T.T

Well, reviews are good. They will dictate whether I continue with this story or not. Because if it's as bad as I think it is, I probably won't continue.