Note: MFB characters and a few OC's attend an imaginary school of my own invention in which the teachers couldn't care less if one day the students came to class as Nyan cats or something along the lines; It's a mixed-gender-school, but all classes except electives are single-gender. Here, Kyoya and Hikaru are BFF's (because of their opposite zodiacs I see them as people who wouldn't mind hanging out now and then, but would also have their arguments on a VERY regular basis) . Also, I do not own any form of beyblade whatsoever, oor A history Of Hogwarts. Thank you for listening. (well, actually reading, but you get the point):

-In the halls of North-Oak High School…

-RIIIIIIIIIIIIIING-RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING-RIIII IIIIIIIIIIIING-

Much noise arose as the students exited their classrooms. As Hikaru -thankfully- exited her geometry classroom, a hand brusquely pulled her out of the stream of babbling, stuck-up brats.

"'Sup," said Kyoya

"Bored. As. He**", sighed the bluenette, "You?"

"Same. If only we could jump out the window."

"Yeah. And commit double-suicide, genius."

Both bladers looked out the 3rd floor window.

"Well, we've got art next…" trailed off the green-haired guy…

"And the art teacher's never there.." followed Hikaru with a mischievous smirk…

"PAINT FIGHT!" screamed the dynamic duo while rushing to the second floor.

Art just happened to be the only class in which people of different grades were grouped together. And it just happened to be that said BFF's shared said class with certain eagle and dragon boys.

Walking in, the opposite zodiacs took in the dreary art room that was actually two large classrooms with a folding wall, the pair of colossal supply closets (all the paint in the world plus more), and their two…acquaintances acting all tough-guy in separate corners of the large space.

"Guys, paint fight. Supplies. Now." In those few words Hikaru managed to get the idea across to them, make Tsubasa smile, and Ryuga smirk. All in a fluid motion, the paint was taken out, the tables shoved aside, and the chairs stacked. The group of four could not have been more efficient if they had rehearsed it. (well they've done it before so that sort of counts as practice, right?) And just in time too, because the doors opened and in came a stream of high-school students. Hyoma, Ryutaro, Zora, Tobio, (almost all the minor characters), you name 'em.

"So, paint wars the acrylic wars again?" asked Kakeru.

"This is just great. Third ruined coat this month!" complained the afro-blonde.

"Listen up, people!," announced Kyoya, "teams are based on bey type. There are absolutely no rules whatsoever, except no rough-housing. Anyone in the room is fair game."

As soon as he was finished, he ran over to Hikaru, who was already armed and dangerous, and joined in on the already furious paint-fight. Let's just say that if bladers were passionate about beyblade, they were positively intense about any other physical exercise. The sniper was having a paintball field-day, the magician was employing the laws of physics against his classmates, the Australian aborigine tied a paint tube to each of her boomerangs, the apprentice idolized everyone who had a trick up their sleeve, the treasure hunter stealthily hoarded paint, the biker went on a wheel-chaired rampage, the eagle-boy got everyone from above, the dragon emperor kept his white jacket spotless with an assortment of glares, the pyromaniac tried out a few paint-bombs, the gothic emos forgot their facades and just had fun, and as for the wind and waves, the True Lion Gale Force Wall and Infinite Assault were not-so-harmoniously blended in a few replicas of a rainbow twister of colorful but deadly doom. In short; boredom = busted.

Only one person was missing out on the spectrum of entertainment. Jigsaw. The bookworm would not even look up, that's how absorbed he was on A History Of Hogwarts. The dynamic duo, unfortunately, had no mercy. Sigh. Well, here's what happened. "Pssst! Kyoya! Look at the bookworm! Want to do something about it?" "You bet, Hikaru. Rainbow, splotches, or solid?" "Let's go with splotches. And spare the book 'cause it looks like it's from the library." "Got it." Quietly and efficiently they dodged paint until they were in the slightly calmer side of the room, where the target sat oblivious to the chaos.

"ATTACK!" they screamed. Jigsaw looked up, but it was already too late. His beautiful maroon suit looked like an art supply store puked on him. "NO! Do you have any idea how much this takes to dry-clean? I swear, I'll get you two buffoons!" Carefully setting his book out of harm's way, the angry boy grabbed two of those ketchup tubes that art teachers stuff with paint and set out for revenge. Seeing that their trick had worked, Kyoya and Hikaru ran for their dear lives and into the fray.

Everyone was so absorbed in the frenzy of fun that they didn't notice the door open. You see, although the teaching staff was totally careless, the principal was virtually addicted to rules and discipline. He knew there was mischief in the art room, via complaints from the janitors, but had never actually caught the rascals at it. Now he finally had what he was looking for. And as if fate insisted on angering Mr. Doji even more, a PAINTBALL landed on his delicate, imported, hand-woven, dry-clean-only suit! THE MADNESS! So, here's how history went down:

"STOP! ALL OF YOU LINE UP FRONT AND CENTER!" Immediately everyone froze up as if they were playing musical statues. A last minute drop of paint could be heard splatting against the ground somewhere. "NOW!, roared a furious headmaster. Instantaneously every student in the room lined up shoulder to shoulder in front of Doji, all of them thinking something along the lines of we're busted, or we're screwed, or dear bey-spirit help me. "Who," he started in a menacing voice, "Who is responsible for organizing this? I'll have you know I intend to expel the ring leader from this school. If nobody steps forth all of you will be individually interrogated until I find the troublemaker. Just look at this classroom! Have you no shame! And some of my best students have been induced in this juvenile delinquency! Whoever had this idea step forward this instant!"

By now you probably figured out what Kyoya and Hikaru were thinking. But they're not bladers for nothing. Out of pure bravery the two made to take a step from everyone else. However many things happened in that split second. Let's press pause for a moment. All those people in the room had a sense of comradeship, and they wouldn't let such good friends face the wrath of the principal alone, even if they were responsible for this mess. Even Jigsaw felt bad for them. You can un-pause now. As the original people of this idea moved towards their headmaster, so did every single other person who had partaken in the fight. Amazed and not a little surprised, the duo sighed of relief and made note to thank their classmates later.

On the other hand, Doji wasn't so impressed. In fact, you could say he was slightly more furious now than when he came in. How will I find the responsible brat now?, he thought. Sighing, he crossed his arms and declared, "You children seriously need a whipping. Too bad that's an 'old' punishment. No matter. This is the last class period of the day, so you all have detention. Your punishment will be to clean this whole room. The supply closet is down the hall. I'll come back in an hour , and when I do, everything in this room including you rascals will be spotless or someone will be expelled." His speech done, the principal left to go get himself an aspirin and a glass of water.

As soon as Doji crossed the threshold and was out of earshot, Hikaru exclaimed, "Thanks so much, guys!" and upon an elbowed prompt to his ribcage, Kyoya said "And we're sorry we got you guys in this mess." "No big." "It was nothing." "Well, it was fun." all those and more were heard from the line. Breaking ranks, some random person shouted "GROUP HUG!" and then enforced it. The human huddle was pure bliss until some other random person shouted "Look at the time! We only have fifty-five more minutes to clean the place! And we're a mess!" Small yelps were heard around the room as everyone dashed to straighten a table or pick up a paint bottle.

We're getting nowhere, thought Hikaru. A glance at her best friend's eyes confirmed he was thinking the same thing. Straightening up, the blue haired girl announced to the room, "Guys, we aren't making any progress! We have to organize ourselves. I need you two," she pointed at Kaito and Miku, "to get all the mops and brooms you can find. You," she looked at Tsubasa, Ryuga, Tobio, and Hyoma, "Go with them and bring back as many buckets and bottles of stuff as you can find. You three," Kyoya, Ryutaro, Benkei, "Straighten up all the tables, chairs, and cabinets. Everyone else grab a rag or paper towel and clean off all the paint before it dries. If we hurry we'll have about ten minutes to clean ourselves up. We don't have time to argue so hurry up!"

Everybody did as they were told at double speed so that the classroom could nearly have rivaled the splendor of the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, and they had enough time to clean themselves up so well you couldn't tell they'd even been near paint. (Well, except for a few stains here and there on the coats and jackets of several people) The hour was up. As Doji neared the door to the art room he got out his notepad to write down the names of all those naughty students. At last he would rid his school of such despicable vermin! However what he saw when he opened the door was quite different from what he expected. He thought he would find supplies strewn across the floor, students with paint crusts in their hair, and upset furniture.

Instead he came face to face with neat rows of desks and benches on which students sat in an orderly fashion, a floor so spotless and swept he could almost make out his reflection in it, and shelf upon shelf of neatly displayed supplies. The trash bags were piled up next to a can where the janitor could pick them up soon and not one speck of paint was in sight. Who would have thought such hooligans could best the cleaning staff! Doji's jaw dropped to the floor.

And then the rest of his body followed. All the proper little pupils looked down at their fainted principal. Second one: everyone stares at the fallen adult. Second two: everyone is still staring. Second three: All the children dash out of the spotless prison with the speed and agility of ninjas. Doji may or may not have been trampled. Second four: A fake-flower vase rattles in circles on its little table next to the door, and that's the only way to tell that people other than the unconscious person had been in the immaculately clean space.

On the security camera's screen we see a mini-mob of students high-five-ing and laughing as they go home. And so ends another day at North Oak High School…

And Done!

Hope you liked it!