Ooyama licked his plate clean with a workman's efficiency, cheeks burning red with energy. "That… was the best Monday Mystery Mash I've ever tasted.

"Hey man, this special cheeseburger meal has to be the best thing on the menu," Fukimaki disagreed emphatically, moaning around a hunk of meat. "You get three-times the joy for each bite!"

"Mmm!" TK agreed, carefully chewing seafood with closed lips. TK always had excellent manners.

Ooyama flew up from the table and raced back into the lunch line, where a troop of grey-haired ladies watched the events with raised brows. "Oh, I have to go back for more! My youth demands it!
Fukimaki and TK followed him. "Indeed," Fukimaki agreed. "My dedication to this school demands I sample every dish on the menu!"

With the scratch of chalk, the biology teacher sketched a cruTakamatsu complex diagram of some form of cell-whatsit. The class was in sedated silence as Mr. Craun turned and regarded them.

"Well," he droned. "Today class, we will be learning about the process of transcription. It is a vital intercellular process, as it enables our cells to create messenger RNA-"

"MESSENGER RNA!?"

Hinata had bolted upright. His breath came in gasps as he locked eyes the instructor, his fists were trembling.

Mr. Craun's chalk snapped.

"Messenger RNA… is my absolute favorite part of the cell! Ever since I was a boy, it has inspired me." Hinata ran his hands through his hair. "I, I'm sorry, I don't if I can keep it together. It's just, it's a lot to handle, you know?"

"Um… Do you need-"

"MITOSIS!" Noda cried, his chair going flying as he sprung up. His gaze locked into the instructor's rapidly blinking eyes. "Oh teacher, please, when do we go over Mitosis?"

"Well, we've already gone over that, back in September."

"Ugh," Noda grunted. "Failure…"

With a sob, Takamatsu arose. "Oh most gracious instructor, have mercy! I believe my mind will implode unless we go over the joys of volcanoes!"

"What... this is biology. Volcanoes are in Earth Science."

Takamatsu flung himself to the floor with a gurgle.

"Hey, enough! Who do you guys think you are, Watson and Crick?" Matsushita growled. Turning, he gave Mr. Craun a conspiratorial wink. "Keep going with the Bio, my man. You're doing great."

"Yes, please," Hinata gasped. "Keep going with the lesson! My youth demands it!"

Takamatsu sprung up. "Yes, continue! My mind needs the nourishment! Bring it on…"

The class looked at them hanging jaws, and eyes glazed with disbelief. Otanashi sunk into his seat. What is Yuri thinking, he wondered. And why is lunch not till after 3rd period…

At the front of the class, Angel's eyes narrowed.

3rd period was World History, with the venerable Mrs. Spicer.

"Right, she began as they took their seats. Otanashi eyes her in sympathy. She seemed like a nice lady. "Now, the French Revolutionary war was a time of great upheaval, less of a war then it was chaos. As symbols of the privileged classes, Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette-"

"Marie Antoinette," Hinata gasped.

Mrs. Spicer raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what is-"

"Oh, I can't believe it's her," Hinata tittered. "She's so hot! Marie is every young student's dream, a bold, attractive heroine in the story of France! I can't believe it!"

"Hot? What are you… Antoinette and the King were both executed on the guillo-"

"THE SECOND PUNIC WAR!" Noda roared, sending both desk and chair flying as he burst up. "We must cover it immediately!"

"By Fiddle, that was last year!"

Ignoring her completely, Noda whipped out his halberd, and immediately began a dramatic reenactment, blade whistles as he grunted and swished.

"But, but please, teacher," Takamatsu whimpered hopefully. "We can still talk about Austrian economics, right? My mind, belongs only to Austria…"

"No, that was last week-"

"By Scott, No!" Takamatsu wept, collapsing onto his desk.

"Will you all shut up," Matsushita called. "Who do you think you are, the KGB?" He winked at the teacher. "Come on, Spice-Dawg. Keep the history coming.

What in the… Otanashi wondered, watching his friends. A smile broke its way through his face, they were all on their feet, each frantically entreating the teacher to continue, their words running together. In between them was that one annoying chic from the student council, Tiffany or whatever. She was tittering angrily; seemingly oblivious to the halberd that was swishing inches from her throat.

After a moment, Angel turned in her seat to regard them. A crinkle formed on her forehead.

In the seat farthest back of the room, Yuri watched her, and smirked.

Shiina was conflicted. On the one hand, she would do whatever was necessary to get closer to reaching God. No matter how unpleasant the task, she would endure it, for the sake of justice. This mission did seem like it might work.

But on the other hand, it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard of!

Noonday light filtered in from the small windows of the Gym storage room where she had taken refuge. She sat cross-legged; eye squinted as she carefully threaded a needle. Around her lay the supplies she had borrowed from the Home Ec. department, spools of thread, squares of fabric, a bin of white fluff for stuffing, and some beads for eyes.

If intense dedication to the traditional views of a contented youth was what was required of her, then she would comply. As the thread made its steady way through the needle's eye, her own eyes glinted dangerously. Sewing was what was expected of young girls. That was what her father had told her. But this wasn't for him, it was for her.

Let it begin, she thought, narrowing her concentration. The air shrieked as the metal flashed and wove, and a shape began to take form in front of Shiina with lightning efficiency.

"At last!" Hinata roared as the bell signifying the end of third period sounded. His fists pumped the sky. "Now, we shall have our baseball match!"

The others cheered their agreement, and were on their way to the door when a familiar voice stopped them.

"Hey, morons," Yuri hissed as she kicked her feet up on her desk. With a definite jerk of her eyebrows, she indicated the corner of the classroom. Angel was removing a mop and a bucket from a closet.

"Apparently," their leader muttered, "our Student Body President has taken it upon herself to clean up after class. Maybe…"

"Why, my dear president," Hinata gasped, rushing up to lean over Angel's shoulder. "You can't clean up all by yourself!"

Angel paused, mop in hand. "You… want to help?"

"Of course!" Matsushita the fifth agreed. "It wouldn't be honorable for us to leave the work for you!"

"It is our duty to the school," Takamatsu spoke solemnly.

Noda sneered. "Eh, but keep your mops and brooms. Us real men use rags!"

With roars of energy, the boys stormed the janitor's closet, raiding the rag drawer with hoots of abandon. Otanashi carefully snagged the mop.

"Right," Hinata gasped as they reached the hall, falling to their knees, rags to the ground. "First one to the staircase wins!" And they tore off down the hall, students flying to the side with cries of shock to avoid the cleaners.

"What is wrong with you people?" Albert Lecher, the Student Body Vice president shouted as he was tossed aside by Noda's onrushing form.

"Sorry, sorry," Otanashi apologized, following after. His cheeks burned as the storm-tosses students cast him incredulous glances. Calm down, they're just NPCs. Aw yikes, what are these guys thinking? They're hardly getting any dirt the way they're going!

He worked his mop into the hall's corner, tutting as he wrung it out and started wiping again. There was something relaxing about cleaning, and right now it was just what he needed.

From the open doorway, Angel watched his retreat, brow furrowed as if in great concentration. Finally her face cleared as if divine knowledge had been received. Her lips opened.

"It appears he has stolen my mop."