Disclaimer: The magnificent Naoko Takeuchi who so graciously permits her fans to taste the wonder of her manga world owns Sailor Moon. Kudos, Senorita.

Violent Intervention

Before the reasoning of daybreak could enter into the minds of the unconscious, I found myself resolutely behind my desk. Infallible as ever, the paperwork had managed to flourish into a mountainous pile, one that teemed threateningly toward the floor. My mind merely mocked my present situation; it's your own fault, you know. If you'd only done it last night.

A steaming liquid silenced my its ramblings, the irritating pulsations within my skull becoming more and more diminutive as caffeine took hold. Yawning with boredom, I leaned over the marvelous contraption on which I was perched, its yellowed back yielding to my sudden weight. Throwing my head back, I glanced at the time.

" Seven-o-Five," announced my echo, sounding strangely garbled. Amazingly, the reason behind my present predicament revealed itself as my memory replayed the events of yesterday: speaking to the principal, his instructions to meet with the parents of the newest delinquent, in hopes that a friendly camaraderie might ignite.

Shaking my head resolutely, I stood from my seat and stretched. Just as my muscles began to forgive me for the trespasses of the past night, a knock, once more, interrupted me.

"Mr. Shields?" a jolly voice sounded through the sleek wood of the door. Grabbing my suit jacket, I managed to slip it on quickly, resonating my ever present confidence; sometimes cruel, rarely kind, but always charming.

"Come in." A fairly tall man entered through the door, his height rivaling my own. The reflection of his sheen jet-black hair was enhanced by globs of gel, all meant to keep it pulled tight and neat. Thick, brown glasses sat upon his bridge and he was dressed in the image of corporate journalism.

Close to his side was a woman, his wife in all likelihood. She herself was also quite tall; reaching less then an inch below her husband in flat, white shoes. I was reminded of an image of complete homeliness, her long black hair held taunt by a wispy scarf and a flowery dress billowing around her calf's.

Her gloved hands held tightly to the hand of a twelve-year old version of her husband, save the hindering spectacles and a crown of chestnut brown in place of black. The look on his face spelled utter defiance, and I could not help but grin in recognition.

Finally, the last of the herd stepped in more shy then the rest. I recognized her instantly as Bunny; the outlandish child with a hairstyle and attitude to match. Glancing up, she froze under my glare and it took all my self-control to stop my eyes from rolling at the absurdity of it all.

"Well, why don't we all take a seat then. Am I correct in assuming that you are Bunny's parents?" I refrained from their familial title, noting the airhead had forgotten that portion of her introduction earlier.

"Yes, yes, quite right." Extending his hand, the man grinned briskly. "Kenji Tsukino. This is my wife Irene and our son Samuel." He pointed to the woman and child. "You've already met Bunny yesterday, isn't that right?" I nodded.

"Tsukino? Sounds Japanese," I trailed, the rabbit-child stepping foreword defensively.

"That's because it is." Her eyes hardened, as if daring me to combat. Choosing silence over violence, I looked back to her father, now noting the smooth curvature of his eyes, the rounded nose and definitive facial structure. Though that detail had escaped me before, I now saw a taste of the orient reflected in both children, though the wife still looked supremely Caucasian.

I was sure they expected me to harden my mannerisms toward them however I had no such intention. Though the wounds of the war are still fresh in the minds of us all, I believe myself to be among the few who understand that it is never one nation completely at fault during war. In wars, there are no innocents.

"I've always wanted to go, to the Orient that is. Both its culture and philosophies have been great interests of mine for a number of years." Breaking the tension with a smile, I motioned to the seats before us. "Now, shall we discuss what we are here to discuss, or would you like to wait for the arrival of the other students. I must warn you, it is most difficult to articulate amongst their chatter." Mr. Kenji laughed appreciatively while the mother reprimanded her two children for the faces the sent my way.

"Due to the seriousness of his accusations, Darwin's works are often mocked and altogether ignored by the mass populace. This is all due to the incriminations against biblical events." My breath caught itself in my throat, excitement coursing through my veins.

After Ami finished her reading, the classroom seemed to delve into a deep tension, each person's unsure whether to speak or stay silent.

"Exactly, perfectly stated Ami!" My eyes roamed the faces, some nodding in approval, others completely disgusted by the accusation. " Who else agrees with Ami, and who doesn't, show of hands." No one moved. I grew agitated. " Oh, come now, its only a census. Surely one of you must hold SOME opinion?"

As if sensing my desperation, Bunny looked up pensively (an expression I never thought to see on her face) before lifting her hand carefully.

Unwilling to miss this chance, I pounced upon her before her mind could change. Perhaps I would finally be ably to produce a discussion! Oh, glorious morn!

"Yes! You with the meatballs, speak up!" She glared at me wanly, her eyes drawing together in a contemptuous huff.

"My name is Bunny, Mr. Shields." Ignoring me completely, she turned and nodded her head at the dark haired genius. "I agree with Ami. My belief is that the bible explanations of past events were written and recorded by minds that have neither the technology nor the societal advancements that we do. Its importance was placed on a pedestal so, so deeply implanted in tradition and culture that now it is un seeable for many to part with old ideals and welcome in new dogma's.
'Scientifically speaking, the process of evolution and survival of the fittest makes sense, and this scares a lot of people."

She paused, her mouth searching for words that would best present her case. "As history shows, misunderstanding leads to fear and hate and wars off all kinds." A few of the students seemed taken aback by her words, though scoffs resounded from several lips.

"Proof?" her eyes widened suddenly and swept across the room, mentally enumerating the support. "Persecution of the black and Jew and the non white and now, the scientist."

When no one spoke, a fearful look swept across her features. The entire class seemed suspended by the bluntness of her opinions. This was the type of discussion I'd been dreaming of since my first days as professor, though I would have never guessed the topic to be raised by the seemingly meek teen.

"Bullshit!" My attention leapt off her and onto Tom Mason, the chipmunk jock who now shook expressively with anger.

"What was that you just said Mr. Mason?" He did not back down.

"You heard, crock o' bullshit!" He rose from his seat with such force the top of his desk nearly ripped off. My eyes narrowed coolly,

"As you are well aware, MR. Mason, everyone is entitled to an opinion in this classroom if expressed with intelligence and foundation. There is nothing intelligent about your barnyard tongue, and I will ask you only this once never to say that in my presence again. Sit down." Tabitha suddenly stood.

"He's right Mr. Shields. How can you let her say all that dirt 'bout God and punish one of US when we stand up to it?" I could feel the headache from this morning return as several other jocks stood up, voicing their approvals.

Glancing over to where Bunny sat, I noticed anxiousness present in her features although, to her credit, she refused to back down.

"I didn't mean any offence by it, and I'm sorry if you feel offended." Tabitha gave a smirk of triumph.

"You take it back, then?" Bunny blinked alarmed. She looked over to Ami, who now was shriveled so deep inside of her textbook that only a top hair peeked over. Turning back to the smirking girl, she shook her head.

"Of course not. I stand firmly behind my words." The flippant blond jerked mid-track. By this time, Tom had made his way to the desk of the newcomer. Before I was able to process his actions, he had her grabbed by the shoulders, a look of pure murder on his face.

"TAKE IT BACK!" he shouted. Within seconds, I had closed the distant between the attacked and myself.

"I told you ONCE, Mason to SIT DOWN!" I grabbed from behind, holding his head in a full nelson. He struggled fervently, but had to choice but to drop the girl. She landed on the floor, shocked and frozen in a prone position.

Rei flew from her seat; realizing the true intensity of the situation dragged her shaking body to the opposing wall.

"LET ME GO!" he raged. I increased the pressure, angling his body painfully. By this time, the desks had all emptied, students, racing to either side of the walls, watching timidly. The screams and cries of the female students attracted the attention of Perry Mason, fellow football coach and reverend.

"What in tarnation is goin' on here?!" he roared. "Leggo my boy Shields." I did not relinquish my hold.

"Are you done now Tom, huh? The anger out of you now?" His thrashing subdued in the presence of his father.

Letting him go, I pushed him so he stumbled toward the Coach. "You take him to the office. Tell Principal Kensington that he is suspended for the rest of the week. Tell him he tried to attack a fellow student, a fellow female student. Tell him that when he returns, he can expect at least a months worth of detention."

The Coach looked at me, startled, then saw the shaking girl huddled against Rei. His doubtful mask ripped back to anger as he grabbed the panting teen by his ear, lifted him and pulled him quietly from the class.

I stayed for a moment, watching their retreating forms, recovering from the sudden surge of adrenaline. Feeling angrier then I knew why, I called the class back to order.

" Homework; Five pages of lines titled 'I am entitled to my own opinions as others are entitled to their own thoughts.' Everyone, no exceptions. Each page will by signed by a parent and returned to me not later then 8 am tomorrow. Any one, and I do mean anyone," I inclined my head specifically to Tabitha. "Who does not hand it in by that specific time will join Mr. Mason in detention. Get out."

The silence of the class was not broken as they trudged out minutes before the clang of the lunchtime bell. Three students dawdled behind; the feminist, the genius and the shaking blond.

"Mrs. Tsukino," she jumped at my appelle. "Would you stay behind for a moment? I would like to speak to you for a moment." It took a minute for her to process the command, though she nodded slowly.

The two girls left her side cautiously, promising to meet her outside when we were through.

"Come forth then," I nodded to the seat before me. She stood, her legs shaky extensions of her body. Stepping slowly, I could feel her remaining discomfort. She sat before me with slow deliberate movements. The clock ticked loudly, and neither of us spoke.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shields, I- I didn't think-"

"No you didn't," I cut her more sharply then I intended. Again, she jumped, and then resolved to sit, cerulean orbs concentrating intensely on the papers before me. "As you so quaintly put it, religion is more important to people than most else. People fight and hate and die for it. People kill for it." I gazed at her pointedly. "People's beliefs are always held closest to their hearts. By questioning that, you make them question their existence, the response met consequently violent in opposition."

"That doesn't make his reaction okay! That doesn't make it okay for ANYONE to strike out j-just because there are difference of opinions!" she seemed to focus her anger through the pile, and I feared she might singe them ever so slightly.

"Still, you must understand not everyone can separate objective from subjective." She leaned back in her chair; face still flustered and crossed her arms, reflecting a very angry Buddha. "Know for next time that if you are to say an point, you must be capable of dealing with the repercussions."

I took a brief pause, quite enjoying her visible restraint. "I won't always be there to solve your spats, clear?" She glared my way.

"Is that all?" contempt laced each word, making them even more delicious to accept. Grinning pleasantly, I nodded to the door.

"Enjoy your lunch."

Hope you all like it! The next chapter should be up in a week or too, and things really 'heat up' when Bunny meets her new tutor.(gee, I wonder who that'll be? Golly!)