Prologue

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell.
I know, right now you can't tell

They're gossiping about you.

Blonde eyebrows drew together and baby blue eyes narrowed as a beautiful young girl looked over her shoulder at the small cluster of students behind her. There was a substitute teaching today and the class was treating the assignment like a group activity. Several groups all around the room were huddled together and chatting animatedly; only she and two or three other individuals were doing the classwork solo. She strained to hear the conversation going on behind her, but it was lost in a sea of voices rolling around the room. Defeated, she turned her attention back to the paper on her desk and began writing.

Did you hear that? The blue-haired one called you plastic.

The blonde turned her head again, her long ponytail swaying from the abrupt movement. She listened again, trying to at least catch pieces of what they were saying. Then she tried reading lips, with no success. Her distraction apparent, she made a second attempt to tune out her environment and get her work done. She looked at question number five for the third time and started working on her short answer. By the time she hit question seven, she was being disturbed again.

I said THEY'RE GOSSIPING ABOUT YOU, don't you care? Are you going to just let them pick you apart like that?

Pursing her lips, the girl kept her eyes on her paper and pressed a little harder as she wrote.

"Alright, pass your papers to the front please."

The substitute's voice rang out over the noise of her classmates and the blonde swore; she'd only finished twelve of the fifteen questions.

Maybe they're right about you after all. How much did that manicure cost you? Or the eyelash extensions? The push-up bra?

She chewed on her bottom lip as the teacher dismissed them and she gathered her textbooks into her arms.

Or maybe it's your personality that's fake. You smile without meaning it. Pretend to be nice when you're irritated. Cry for show when you don't get your way.

She navigated the crowd of bodies in the hallway and stopped in front of her locker, one hand turning the combination.

You're completely artificial, inside out. That's why your grades are dropping.

She put away her science book and pulled out her pre-algebra book and a purple binder.

That's why you have no friends.

She slammed her locker shut and started towards her next class.

That's why he-

The girl haulted suddenly and threw her books on the hallway floor, a snarl on her face vicious enough to strike fear into the hearts of the meek.

"SHUT UP! Shut the hell up! I don't need your stupid commentary!"

All eyes snapped to the petite blonde who was standing in the middle of the hallway, screaming at no one. When she realized she'd made a public spectacle of herself, the young beauty made a mad dash to the girl's bathroom to save herself from further humiliation. Locking the door behind her, she was relieved to see that the stalls were empty. She let out a sigh and mechanically walked to the sinks, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair still looked great; a high, sleek ponytail with bangs swept over one eye. Her makeup looked fine and her clothes were in perfect order. She scowled and put two fingers on her temple. What was going on with her today? It wasn't like her to be paranoid and it certainly was unusual for her to cause a scene, she always went with the flow things. Except when "the flow" was going against her.

"I've got to stop stressing over the mid-terms. Maybe the Redbull too, it's making me jumpy."

She told her reflection, shaking her head at herself. She dug a hand into her denim pockets and pulled out her cellphone to check the time.

1:08pm. Damn, she was running late for pre-algebra. She tucked her phone back into her pocket, turned around-

And promptly screamed.

"Have there been any...changes at home lately?"

A woman with short, black hair and dark eyes sat primly, her hands folded on her desk. There was a name plate at the front of her desk, but half of it was blocked by a plant. The visible half read SHIZUNE. Across from her sat a bewildered and slightly shamed couple.

"No. Nothing out of the usual. Everything's fine."

The female replied, her face starting to redden. The dark haired woman blinked and leaned forward.

"And has your daughter said anything out of the ordinary lately? Exhibited any odd behavior?"

The male spoke up this time, his cornflower blue eyes filled with worry.

"No. Ino's...just Ino. She hasn't done anything strange."

"Then perhaps she's become withdrawn? Stopped hanging out with friends? Discontinued watching her favorite television shows?"

The couple before her shook their heads and the Guidance Counselor made a sound in her throat before leaning back into her chair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Yamanaka, I've called you in here today because I believe your daughter has had a nervous breakdown."

Shock washed over their faces. The mother opened and closed her mouth twice before speaking.

"What do you mean? Nervous breakdown as in how? Or what?"

"Nervous breakdown, as in having fits of hysteria and claiming that there's a ghost in the third floor girls' bathroom."

Their expressions turned gloomy, and the father spoke again.

"What would cause this? How do we get her better?"

Shizune gave a half-hearted smile and opened one of her desk drawers, pulled something out, then shut it. Then she stood and stretched to hand them what they recognized as a pamphlet.

"There's a Center for people with...issues of this nature. I suggest you send your daughter there for the next ninety days. Perhaps they can help shed some light on this."

The Yamanakas looked at the folded paper in their hands that read KONOHA COMMUNITY WELLNESS CENTER and silently wondered where they'd screwed up.