Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Notes: Not your average high school story. Read on.
Part One: Morning
Like every high school, Konoha High had its cliques. There were the cheerleaders, the jocks, the student council future-yuppies, and the punks, Goths, and emo kids that Sakura could never tell apart, no matter how much they insisted on a separate identity. Walking across the quad before classes began that morning, it was very obvious to see who stood where on the social hierarchy and where they all hung out. Seeing her students parceled up in their niches made Sakura feel fondly nostalgic as she turned the knob to the teacher's lounge.
There was really nothing lounge-ish about the teacher's lounge. There was a refrigerator, a few worn out couches, a microwave, a few haphazard tables and a copy machine in the corner. The washed out yellow walls were full of faded, outdated posters with slogans like "Love to Learn!" and "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" pasted along once-glossy paper. A lone calendar was on the wall by the window, counting down to the end of the year (three months left, or eleven weeks and three days, or fifty eight days if you wanted to get technical).
Before school the lounge was usually reasonably full, and today was no exception. Tenten was digging underneath the counter for extra paint, Naruto was chatting with Sasuke, who was reading the Times over a Styrofoam cup of coffee, and Kakashi was right where Sakura needed to be- at the copy machine.
"Morning, Sakura," he greeted as she settled herself in line behind him.
"Morning, Kakashi. How's the ink in that thing?"
"It's fine… for now. I'm making packets, though. You?"
"Shakespeare quiz."
"Urgh, you're brutal."
"Don't tip them off this time, please."
"Alright, alright. They'll be mad enough at me without knowing what you've got in store for them. We're covering conic sections today and I can only imagine the blank stares."
"Aren't you moving awfully fast?"
"Yeah well, state standards you know."
"Do I ever."
"Heh, at least math is easy. Sasuke's probably got it the hardest."
"Yeah," piqued Sasuke from across the room. "Gaara got all the high kids this year. My group can't even tell me where Germany is, much less explain its participation in World War II."
"Not like they care," snorted Kakashi as he took his packets to a table and began to staple them together.
"I resent that," sniffed Sasuke.
"Oh, don't get your poli-sci panties in a bunch, Uchiha. I'm sure you'll convince at least one of them to major in history or something."
"God, if they even graduate," moaned Sakura. "Some of mine have barely mastered the paragraph."
Kakashi snickered and muttered something along the lines of "that's why I teach math," but Sasuke gave her an understanding smile, which she returned as she collected up her copies and headed out the door to her classroom.
Sakura had spent a lot of time making her room look welcoming and encourage an atmosphere of learning, and it was cleaner than most. Unlike the staff room, her posters were relatively new, with literature quotes on them or maps of the world (they still had Russia down as the Soviet Union, but the school was determined to get a few more years out of them, so Sakura had to settle with them). She had a fairly large bookshelf in the back full of classics, textbooks, or some of her own that she'd loan out to students who were interested in more challenging book reports. Her desk was neat, with its bulky computer off to one side and a potted orchid on the other. She put the quizzes down on the desk and crammed her purse into the large bottom-right drawer, being sure to lock it. She trusted the kids for the most part, but it was her opinion that one could never be too careful. Just last week, there had been a drug bust in the neighborhood around the school and Sakura suspected that some of her students may have been involved- but as long as they didn't bring it into class, she'd do her job and let the police do theirs.
The bell rang over the loudspeakers, creating a sudden shuffle from the deep depths of the school. This time a day was without a doubt her favorite; most mornings she was filled with things she wanted to say and hoped they would learn, if not from her than by picking it up in the text. Within minutes her more punctual students were already seated- they'd likely straggle in for ten minutes after the bell. After the pledge of allegiance and a few announcements from Tsunade, the principal, she gave them all a brief introduction and then passed out the quizzes, to their unconcealed disgust. As they quietly scurried to define iambic pentameter and summarize what happened between Olivia and Viola, Sakura took roll. Ito Hideki and Yamamoto Emi were absent today- the flu was still going around, although she didn't feel sorry for Emi. Hideki was nice, though. Maybe she'd let him makeup his quiz. A few minutes later, Fujiwara Kenji stumbled in late for the third time this week, so wordlessly she handed him a detention slip with his quiz. Not her rules, but Tsunade would get on her if she didn't enforce the tardy policy.
After fifteen minutes she collected quizzes and dove into a short lecture on Twelfth Night, dedicating the last twenty minutes of class to letting (making) her students act out a scene in the front of the class while she observed her victims from the back of the classroom. Up today were Sato Masaru, a bulky but silent boy whose voice cracked every few sentences, and Watanabe Reiko, a mousy little girl with glasses. Once upon a time she would have felt guilty for arranging the readings for her own personal pleasure, but she was much too amused to play fair. Besides, it wasn't like the other students weren't enjoying this too. Masaru read all of Orisino's flirtatious lines like a grocery list, not looking up from his script once. Reiko squeaked out Olivia's biting responses like she was afraid of hurting Masaru's feelings (like he had any, with the emotionless tone he was speaking in). Sakura noticed that Megumi and Saburo, a few of the drama club members, were twitching with the urge to grab up the scripts and show the rest of the
class how it was done. Mercifully, the bell rang in the middle of the scene and the class gave a muted applause for the performers before rushing off to their next class.
The second class transpired pretty much the same as the first, except this time Tanaka Shin bolted out the door in the middle of his reading, leaving his partner and the class momentarily baffled until they heard the sounds of vomit echoing down the hall. "This happens sometimes, he's just got a little stage fright," Sakura said as she strode up to her desk to write out a hall pass. "Souta, could you please rescue him from the garbage can and escort him to the nurse's office? Shinobu, you can take his place in the reading." Their reactions were priceless. Souta grimaced but bravely did as he was told. Sakura felt for him, because even most of the staff found Kabuto, the nurse, to be a very strange man but what had to be done had to be done. Shinobu stuttered that Orisino's part was for a boy, but Sakura didn't let her off the hook.
By the time the bell rang for break, Sakura was getting thirsty, so she ran to the teacher's room quickly to grab one of Naruto's root beers that were sitting in the fridge before he noticed. If worst came to worse, she thought with a smile, she knew Sasuke would take the heat for her.
End Notes: My mom's a teacher, so I've spent a lot of time helping and hanging out with teachers. It's funny how they're just normal people behind their educational façade. They swear, they drink, they complain, have their personality clashes, and sometimes even fall in love. This is meant to not only parody high school fics, but education and even to some extent my own high school. Up next- the school rally.