All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime. "It Overtakes Me" is written by Wayne Coyne, Steven Drozd, and Michael Ivins, and is copyright Warner Brothers Records. I am posting this fic for free, and make no money off of it.


And I'm there...
Looking up at the sky
And I'm scared...
Thinking about the way that I...
I don't understand...
Anything at all
And how it overpowers me
And I am just so small
Do I stand a chance?

-The Flaming Lips

Chapter Five: First Day of School

"Hey, Melanie..."

Midnight.

A large red brick building.

A woman pounds on the gate. An ugly gash on her upper left arm which has not been healing well.

"Melanie?"

"Dear child... I pray you never learn the truth of where you came from. But if that day comes, know that your heart defines you, not your genes. You are not your mother."

"Wake up, Melanie."

"Do not be afraid, Mei Lin..."

"Melanie!" Kimberly all but shouted into the blond girl's ear, waking her with a start. Melanie blinked rapidly and turned to see her new roommate standing over her bed, already dressed in her school uniform. "You gotta get up now, Mel! It's already five past eight!"

Melanie stretched a little under her sheets. "Oh, I do not! What's the big deal? Class starts at nine, right?"

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "Mel, this is one of those times where I'm trying to help you because you don't know everything! If you don't get out of bed ASAP..."

Before Kim could explain, a heavyset woman with short, curly red hair entered their bedroom. Behind her stood several other students, all dressed in their uniforms. "Well, it seems someone thinks she can sleep in on a school day!" The woman said with a Southern accent. "We all know what to do about that, don't we, girls?"

"Uh oh!" The girls standing behind her all said at once, their voices tinged with laughter.

"Uh, Melanie was just about to get up, Ms. Wallace! Honest!" Kimberly said, trying to place herself between the dormitory supervisor and her roommate.

Ms. Wallace, however, wouldn't hear it. "I'm sorry, Kimberly, darlin', but you know the rules. So, let's wake her up!" Moving with more speed than Melanie would have thought from a woman of her size, Ms. Wallace moved to the bed, scooped up Melanie in her strong arms, sheets and all, and carried the protesting blond girl out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the dormitory showers, where Melanie was dumped most unceremoniously on the tiled floor underneath one of the shower-heads. The beefy woman then turned the cold tap on all the way, sending an icy spray cascading down onto Melanie, still tangled in her sheets and pajamas.

The girl gave a loud yelp as she was drenched in the cold water, made even worse by all the wet fabric that clung to her skin after the tap was turned off, leaving her a wretched, shivering mess. The girls standing behind Ms. Wallace giggled at the spectacle, as it had been a long time since they were last treated to it.

"Now, then, girlie," Ms. Wallace said to Melanie. "The rules ain't flexible, and neither am I. All students are to be up before eight o'clock on a school day. No exceptions. If you have an alarm, I suggest you set it, otherwise we go through this again tomorrow." The heavyset woman then grabbed a towel off a nearby rack and tossed it at the soaking-wet blond. "Now, then, you should probably dry off and get dressed, hon. Class starts at nine, and I don't want you to find out what happens if you're late for that." So saying, Wallace turned and left the shower area, followed shortly by her audience.

After they were gone, Melanie started to untangle herself from the wet sheets and picked up the towel she'd been left. Of course, she was still in her nightshirt, which made it hard for her to really get dry. A minute later, Kimberly entered the showers, clutching another towel.

"Sorry, Mel," she said. "I tried to warn you."

"Well, you c-c-could have warned me last night b-b-b-before I went t-to sleep," Melanie growled through chattering teeth.

"Yeah, I am sorry about that," said Kim. "I guess I didn't because, well... you were kind of a bitch to me all day yesterday, when all I wanted to do was help you. But I promise that, from this point on, you have full disclosure. I'll tell you everything you need to know about this place, ahead of time." Kim then held out her hand, offering Melanie the second towel.

Melanie did not move to take it right away. Instead, she thought about telling Kimberly that the deal was off. But then... a small part of her did admire the black-haired girl. Kimberly might be nice, but she'd just proven she was no doormat, either. If their positions were reversed, Melanie would probably have done the same thing to Kim. So she stood and accepted the towel. Kimberly then offered to take the wet sheets and stick them in the hamper in their room.

After she was gone, Melanie peeled off her wet nightshirt, rubbed herself down with one of the towels, then wrapped the other around her torso and went back to her dorm room. Once there, she dried off proper and changed into her school uniform. "Come on, Mel, we should probably hustle," Kimberly said while her roommate was running a comb through her still-damp hair. "We hurry, we can catch some breakfast before class."

"Right." Melanie tossed her comb on her dresser-top, and the two girls darted from the room, down the hall, and out of the dorms.

Most of the other girls had eaten by the time that Melanie and Kimberly had gotten to the dining hall. But a few remained, most notably Regina and her "entourage," two of them sitting on either side of her. The five girls seemed to be engaged in a lively conversation, though Regina did most of the talking. Breakfast was usually served buffet style, and today was no exception, so the smaller girls loaded their trays with whatever looked good to them (which was hard, since most of the breakfast options were healthy, thanks to Joan's iron fist when it came to nutrition) and took seats as far from the Alphas as they could.

"So, you've met Regina," Kimberly said while keeping her gaze fixed on the bowl of Raisin Bran in front of her, avoiding eye contact with the taller blond. "And you were right yesterday. She is the 'lioness' of this place, or 'big bitch' if you will. Now I'll introduce you to the jackals who feed off her scraps."

Melanie nodded and munched on a banana, also not looking directly at the clique. "The lesser cunts. Gotcha."

"So, from left to right, there's Lacey," - Kimberly pointed with her spoon at a girl with hair a darker shade of blond than Regina or Melanie, kept up in a bun - "Janis," - she next indicated a brown-haired girl with deep hazel eyes - "Sunako," - the third girl in line who sat to Regina's immediate left (their right), and looked like a Japanese/American mix, her long black hair done up in pigtails - "and finally Amanda." The last one in line was an auburn-haired girl with green eyes who looked to be close to Regina's height. And unless she was padding herself, she was already starting to develop like Regina. "And there you have it, Mel," Kimberly finished. "The pack of our school." She then turned back to her cereal and started to eat it more rapidly, knowing that they were pressed for time.

Melanie popped the last bite of banana in her mouth and set the peel on her tray. "So how do they operate?" She asked after taking a sip of orange juice.

"Depends on Regina," Kimberly answered with her mouth full. "She lets them prey on the people she doesn't consider to be under her protection, as long as they don't go too far, and remember who their boss is. And even then... if Regina's in a good mood, they're not as hard. But if she's in a bad mood... well, do your best not to draw their attention."

Melanie shrugged, and unwrapped her granola bar. "That's hardly surprising. Those who get beaten by the people above them will in turn beat the people below them. That's every fake parent I've ever had, in a nutshell. How the world works, really. There's two kinds of people in the world: those who get stepped on, and those who do the stepping."

Kimberly had finished her cereal and moved on to her blueberry yogurt. She paused in the action of bringing the spoon to her mouth after hearing those words. "Jesus, Mel. No wonder you don't trust anybody. What sorts of places have you been to?"

The petite blond gave another shrug. "Doesn't really matter, does it? It's in the past. And I'm sure they're no different from some of the places you've been." She then sprinkled some salt on a hard-boiled egg and stuffed it in her mouth.

"Actually, I've been here for as long as I can remember," Kimberly said.

"Lucky you, then," Melanie responded with her mouth still full. Shortly after she swallowed, both girls sensed the presence of Regina and her crew standing over them. The other four stood slightly behind their "boss," all wearing smug looks.

"So, let's try this again, runt," said Regina. "You got any money for me?"

"Sure do," Melanie answered, with an enthusiasm that surprised Kimberly. She reached into the pocket of her vest, pulled out a penny, and flipped it in the taller girl's direction. "Don't spend it all in one place."

Regina made no move to grab it, instead she let it bounce off of her and clatter onto the floor. "You're not taking me seriously, runt," she growled. "Do you want your life here to be hell?"

"I've been to hell," Melanie said. "You don't measure up. And anyway, you said you wanted money. You didn't say how much."

"Whatever you've got, you little bitch," Regina said through clenched teeth. "You owe me tribute."

"For what?" Melanie's tone was bored as she took another bite of her granola bar.

"To let you walk the halls of this school without looking over your shoulder," was the answer.

The girls behind the lead female were all snickering at this point. "You should kick her ass, Regina," Janis said.

Melanie shrugged. "You'll get what I feel like giving you," she told the tall blond.

Regina looked ready to take Janis's suggestion seriously, and then one of the kitchen staff appeared. "You girls better run along to class," they said. "It's almost nine."

"Right," Kimberly said, trying to extinguish the situation. "Let's all get going."

Regina and her crew stood there another moment, then they turned and stalked off. The staff member left as well, and Melanie cast a quick glance around. No adults seemed to be watching, so she picked the banana peel up off her plate, and flicked her wrist, tossing it as discreetly as she could in Regina's direction. It landed in front of her feet, and the Alpha wound up slipping and falling onto her bottom.

She was back up in seconds, murderous rage in her blue eyes, fingers of both hands curled into hooks like she was ready to tear Melanie to shreds with them. "What's wrong?" Melanie said with a laugh. "I thought gorillas liked bananas!" After saying this, the smaller blond glanced over at Kimberly, expecting to also see her laughing. Instead, her roommate wore a look of concern.

Regina sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and was about to start forward, when Sunako put her hand on Regina's shoulder. "We can't be late for class," the dark-haired girl reminded her. "You'll get your chance later today. There's always gym period."

These words seemed to calm Regina down, so she relaxed her hands and straightened herself. "Enjoy this while you can, runt!" She growled. "After lunch, you're mine!"

"Ooh, I just shit myself, I'm so scared!" Melanie retorted as Regina stormed out of the cafeteria with her crew trying to keep up. After they were gone, Melanie started laughing to herself, and upon glancing at Kim out of the corner of her eye, was surprised to see the other girl not laughing along with her. Instead, she looked annoyed. "What? What'd I do?" Melanie asked, her laughter ceasing.

"Damn it, Mel, I just finished telling you how they work!" Kimberly said. "If Regina is mad, so is the rest of her posse, and then they're gonna take it out on the girls who are below them in the order!"

"I don't believe in order," Melanie said, snapping off another bite of her granola bar. "Also, given my current position as the 'new runt,' I'm finding it hard to care about the other girls of this school. If they had any balls, they'd fight back."

Kimberly's light brown eyes took on a look of actual worry. "You may want to be careful there, Melanie. The way things are set up here, I almost feel like Landy wants the order to be this way, for some reason."

Melanie just shrugged and crunched the last of her granola. "Maybe this place needs a little anarchy. Most of the places I've lived could have used some."

Kimberly seemed ready to say something else. Instead, she ate the last bite of her yogurt, then stood and picked up her tray. "Come on, let's book. We gotta hustle to make it to class on time."

Melanie grabbed her own tray, and after they had been deposited in one of the bins, Kimberly started walking as fast as she could down the hall, with Melanie following her. All around them, other uniformed girls seemed to be doing the same thing. After they stepped outside, Kim led Melanie to the building Mel had been in yesterday with the infirmary, confirming the blond's suspicions.

"We're grouped into sections," Kimberly explained, leading Melanie down the hallway of what Mel had dubbed the "school building." They stopped by a large pegboard, which Kim scanned rapidly with her finger. Melanie followed with her eyes, drinking in as much as she could off what was posted on that board. "Oh, cool!" Her guide said after a minute. "You and I are in the same section. So our first class is English. Come on, let's move. We only have a few minutes."

"What about books?" Melanie asked.

Kim continued speaking as she walked rapidly, with Melanie trying to keep up. "The classrooms are pretty well-stocked with things like notebooks and pencils. You can take what you need as you need it. As for the textbooks, if it's your first day, your book should be on your desk." They rounded a corner, coming to a corridor that was lined with lockers, twenty-five on each side. Other students were milling about, trying to get what they needed in time to beat the bell. As most of her foster parents had neglected her schooling, Melanie had almost forgotten what this chaos felt like.

Kim stopped at a locker with her name on it, quickly entered the combination, and opened it. After a quick rummage, she yanked out her English book. "We can find your locker later," she said. "It should have your name on it, and Landy's assistant can issue you your combination. But right now, you don't need anything out of it." Then they were off at a brisk pace again.

They made it over the threshold of the classroom door just a few seconds before the bell rang for nine o'clock. Kimberly breathed a huge sigh of relief and started towards her desk. The other girls were already seated. Melanie noticed there were only eight of them.

"For classes, they split us into five sections," Kim explained. "Makes it easier for faculty to grade our stuff."

"Regina and her jackals aren't here, so you won't hear me complaining," Melanie said. She noticed an empty desk right next to Kimberly's, with a wrapped hardbound book sitting on top of it. The small blond quickly moved to the back of the room, grabbed an empty notebook, a pencil and a black Sharpie from a bookcase that seemed to be well-stocked, and then took the desk that was clearly meant for her.

A minute later, a twenty-something woman whose overall appearance could be described as "bookish" entered the room and took up her place behind the larger teacher's desk. "Good morning, girls," she said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Ms. Kelly," every girl except Melanie said in unison.

"I hope we can finish up our work on sentence structure this week, so we can start on your reading lists," Ms. Kelly continued in the same tone. "Everyone, please open your books to page forty-two."

Melanie tore the plastic seal off her book, stuffed the trash inside her desk and quickly did as asked. The teacher busied herself by writing a sentence up on the dry erase board. Nothing special, just one of the standard textbook sentences akin to quick brown foxes jumping over lazy dogs.

After she was done writing, Kelly turned and faced the girls again. "Melanie," she addressed the petite blonde. "As the new face in our group, I'd like to get to know you a little better. Please read the sentence on the board aloud, then identify the subject, predicate, and nouns."

Melanie was able to read the sentence, though she stumbled a little on the longer words. Then a tense silence filled the room, as she had no idea how to identify anything she'd been told to. Finally, she ventured: "The subject is... what the sentence is about? And that other thing... is also important."

This earned a few giggles from the other girls except for Kimberly. After a moment, Ms. Kelly asked her: "And... can you identify the nouns?"

"They're words," Melanie retorted. "I can read them. Why does that other stuff matter?"

The bookish-looking woman frowned and walked over to Melanie's desk. "Let's talk outside," she said, offering her student a hand. Melanie tried to ignore the giggles as she accepted the hand, and was led out into the hallway.

Ms. Kelly looked concerned, a look Melanie had come to recognize based off her limited public school experience. One where the teacher thinks you're stupid.

"Melanie, please be honest with me," the English teacher said. "I need to understand where you are so I can better help you. So to start, you... do know how to read and write?"

"Yeah, I know enough to get by," Melanie answered. "The penguins at the orphanage taught me."

"But, there's technical aspects, as well," said Ms. Kelly. "Do you know nouns? Verbs? Adjectives? Adverbs? Pronouns?"

"Words are words," Melanie retorted. "As long as I can read them, who cares?"

"I see." For a few moments, Ms. Kelly stared up at the ceiling. Then she said: "This concerns me, Melanie. I'll... speak with the headmistress later. But for now, please try to follow along with the rest of the class as best you can."

They went back inside, and Melanie took her seat, ignoring the looks she was getting from a few of the other girls. The rest of the class more or less went smoothly. Melanie read what was in her book along with everyone else, though a few of the larger words still tripped her up, and jotted a few things down in her notebook that she thought might be useful later. When the bell rang forty-five minutes later, and they could speak freely again, Kim asked her roommate: "Everything okay?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Melanie said bluntly, picking up her books and tucking her pencil and marker into the pocket of her vest.

So the two girls proceeded to the next class, which was math. It turned out to be a repeat of last class, as they were learning fractions, and Melanie was forced to admit to her teacher (a balding, dark-skinned man in a tweed blazer and red bowtie who introduced himself as Mr. Coleman) that she knew how to add and subtract, and knew about the multiplication table, but everything beyond that was a mystery to her. Like Kelly, Coleman expressed concern, and said he would notify Landy of it when lunchtime rolled around.

Much to Melanie's dismay, this time Amanda was present in the classroom, and was certain to draw attention to it. When Coleman had to step out into the hallway for a minute to deal with another matter, she sniped at Melanie: "Looks like the runt is also a retard,'" which earned laughter from a few of the other girls. Melanie scraped her fingernails slowly across the lacquered surface of her desk, then she felt Kimberly's hand on her shoulder.

"Pick and choose your battles, Mel," she whispered. "Not here, not now. They'll give you other chances."

"Wasting your time helping her, runt number two," Amanda said to the black-haired girl. "She can't even multiply."

"You don't need to know multiplication to know how to punish a skank," Melanie fired back before Kim could say anything. This also got some laughter from those assembled, much to Amanda's extreme displeasure. Before things could escalate any further, the teacher re-entered the room.

For the rest of class, Melanie once more tried to follow along as best she could. When class was dismissed, she and Kimberly let Amanda leave first, then found an excuse to dawdle for a minute before venturing onto their next class. It was Social Studies, and it was a repeat of the other two. Melanie was almost relieved when the bell rang for lunch. She managed to find time to stop by Joan's office and get her locker combination, which made her feel even better, since she could get rid of her accursed books.

The relief didn't last long, however. In the dining hall, the students and faculty stood behind their chairs, just as they'd done for dinner last night. And just as she'd done at dinner, Joan turned her gaze to Melanie and asked her: "Melanie, dear, will you say grace?"

Silence. For a brief moment, Melanie's dark brown eyes met with the ice blue of the headmistress. Then the small girl slipped her hands down through the belt around her skirt.

"Melanie, dear," Joan repeated in a firmer tone. "I gave you a direction."

More silence. Melanie turned her gaze away from Joan to stare at the ceiling. "The staff are waiting to serve lunch, child," Joan said, trying a different approach. "People are hungry."

This earned a reply from Melanie: "Good for them."

The dining hall began to fill with grumbles from the other students. A few of them were whispering for Melanie to get on with it. Joan allowed that to circulate for a minute, then she asked: "Do you honestly not care if we all go hungry?"

Now Melanie turned to meet Joan's gaze again, her brown eyes like stone. "Not really. But if we do go hungry, it's because of you. Ask someone else."

Joan studied the petite blond girl for a very long time, her icy blue gaze unwavering. "Very well, then," she finally said. She then moved her gaze to address a man with short gray hair dressed in chef's whites standing by the entrance to the kitchen. "Nikolai, your staff are not to serve Melanie any lunch. Is that understood?"

"It is, ma'am," the man said with a nod.

"Thank you," Joan said. Then she pointed at another girl: "Meghan, will you please show Melanie the proper response?"

The girl so named bowed her head and said grace. After this, both students and faculty sat down, and the staff began to serve the meal. No plate was placed in front of Melanie, and Joan even ordered a kitchen staff member to stand behind her chair and make sure the girl didn't try to sneak anything off the platters in the middle of the table.

Kimberly was mostly silent, just munching on her ham and cheese sandwich. When she was almost done, she leaned over and said in a low voice: "Gotta say, Mel, this isn't earning you a lot of points with the other girls."

"Why would I want to?" Melanie asked with a defiant shrug.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "You are a stubborn bitch, Mel, but even you have to realize that you are going to need allies in this place. Did you hear what Landy said to you just now? She is playing this card perfectly, using it to make you look like the bad guy."

"Not my fault if the other girls are too stupid to see the truth," Melanie shot back.

Kimberly once more found herself questioning why she was caring so much about her roommate. "Melanie, this is one of those times where I think it would be better in the long run for you to just do what Landy says. It's... diplomatic."

Niko, who was sitting across from Melanie, peeling an orange, added her two cents. "I'm actually smart enough to see the truth, and I agree with Kim."

"No," the other blond girl said firmly. "I'll never pray."

"Why not?" Kim asked her.

Melanie took a deep breath. Images from one of her foster homes flashed through her mind, a heavy Bible that even an adult needed two hands to carry, a stern visage of a conservatively dressed woman working a heavy leather strap over her bare legs. She considered saying something, but then remembered what she'd told herself yesterday. You don't need anyone. And it's not like they really care what happened to you. She let the breath out and said: "It's not important."

Kimberly sensed some unspoken pain from the past and reached out a hand. "Mel, you know that I'm..."

"Drop it, okay?" The blond girl snapped.

"Fine," Kimberly growled, and picked up her sandwich once more. Niko did the same with her own food, eyes fixed down on her plate.

After Kim had taken a few bites, she felt Melanie's hand on her shoulder. She turned, and saw the same expression she'd seen right before bed last night, the briefest flicker of softness in those brown eyes.

"Sorry," Melanie muttered. "I... get cranky when I'm hungry."

"Forget it," Kim said with her mouth full.

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna tell you what the deal is, though," Melanie said as she withdrew her hand. "My past is private."

"No surprises there," Kimberly said with a laugh.

For the rest of lunch, the three girls were silent. As the meal was winding down, Joan made her way over to their table and told Melanie she wanted to see the girl in her office right after lunch. The teacher for her next class had already been informed, so Melanie would not be penalized for being tardy. After Joan had walked away, Kimberly wore a worried look, but decided not to say anything, since Melanie didn't appear concerned. Instead, she simply gave her roommate directions for finding the next class, then got up and left the dining hall.

Melanie managed to find Joan's office on her own (which was easy, since it was in the same building as the dining hall, and she'd just been there yesterday), and she entered to find Candace at her desk, shredding what looked to be old mail. "She's expecting you, Melanie," the assistant said when she noticed the petite blond, and gestured to the open door of the office beyond.

Melanie entered the actual office to find Joan Landy seated behind her desk in a leather chair. A smaller chair, also made of leather, was on the opposite end. There was little else in the room except a tall, ornate cabinet that appeared locked, and also a cardboard box. If Melanie didn't know any better, it was the same cardboard box that her confiscated snacks had gone in yesterday.

"Take a seat, dear," Joan said, gesturing to the smaller desk. Melanie did as asked. As she was sitting down, Candace shut the door behind her, and then went back to her desk to resume her shredding.

For a moment, Melanie wondered if she was going to receive more punishment over the "grace" incident. Not that it mattered to her. It was unclear from Joan's expression just what the headmistress had summoned her for. Then she spoke: "Melanie, I learned some things at lunch today that... concern me."

"Like what, Ms. Landy?" Melanie said with a shrug.

"Based on what your teachers told me, you don't seem to know as much as a girl your age should."

"I thought you said I was smarter than most other kids, Ms. Landy," Melanie fired back.

"Well, there are different kinds of smart," Joan clarified, "You are definitely very street-savvy. But that can only take you so far. Your academic skills are, sadly, in need of improvement."

There was no response to this, as Melanie was starting to wonder if maybe this school was no different from any other in her life. She thought she would be learning life skills, and now she was being told book smart was important?

When it became clear her young charge had no response, Joan went on: "Melanie, what has your schooling been like so far?"

Another shrug. "Like I told the teachers, I learned stuff from the penguins at the orphanage. I had a few fake parents who made sure I went to school, but I didn't stay with any of them long enough for it to matter. And the rest of my fake parents... just never cared."

"I see." Joan pursed her lips and leaned forward, fingers steepled in front of her stern face. "Melanie, it's painfully clear that you're behind the other girls in your studies. I think you could benefit from some tutoring on the weekends, just until you catch up. Also, I try to discourage the teachers from assigning homework, since studies have shown there is no proof that it actually helps children. But I feel you should take a small assignment back to your dorm in the evenings."

Melanie once more felt the urge to run away rising. "Why? What's the big deal? I can read, and I can write, and I can add and subtract."

"You can, dear," Joan conceded, "but it is important that a girl your age be able to do those things at a... certain level."

"I thought I was gonna learn useful things here," Melanie said.

"And you will, my child," Joan insisted. "But in order for you to learn these skills, there are other things you have to learn as well. You are street-savvy, Melanie, and we will cultivate your gifts there, but the knowledge in books should not just be cast aside. There are things you can take away from them. Just as there are things you can learn from my efforts to... help you be more of a proper lady."

The blond girl knew that the headmistress was referring to grace, but still looked unconvinced. So Joan went on: "Melanie, whether or not you believe it, I want what's best for all the children under my charge. So this is all to help you be that person you want to be, even if you don't completely trust me."

Anything further she was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the half open door. Both Joan and Melanie turned their heads to see Candace standing there. "Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but the Dirakuta is on the line, he says it's urgent."

Joan below out a harsh breath through her nostrils. "Very well. Excuse me, Melanie, I have to take this, it will only be a moment." So saying, she rose from her chair and left the office, shutting the door behind her, though it was still left open an inch.

Melanie peered out through the crack in the doorway, saw Joan standing by Candace's desk, arguing in what sounded like Japanese with whoever was on the other line. Her dark eyes flicked towards the box resting on the floor behind her chair. Moving with the same cat-like stealth that she'd shown on the night of her arrest, Melanie got up from the chair, padded across the hardwood floor, her dress shoes making no sound (given the number of deadbeat foster homes she'd been in, she'd learned to traverse many different types of floors in many different styles of footwear, without making a sound). Upon reaching the box, she peered in and saw a cornucopia of "contraband" snacks, including the ones she'd had taken from her yesterday.

Melanie gave an almost predatory smile, then she remembered herself and cast another glance at the door. Landy was still engrossed in her conversation, and did not seem to notice what the petite blond was doing. So Melanie grabbed several snacks from the box, choosing the ones that did not have noisy wrappers, and tucked them as quietly as she could inside the vest of her uniform. Then she padded back to her chair and sat down.

And not a moment too soon. For the second she took her seat back, Joan said, "Tanoshinde ne" to whoever she was talking to, then hung up the phone and re-entered her office.

"Think on what I said, Melanie, I beg you," Joan told her as she sat back down. "The more well-rounded you are, the easier it will be for you."

"I'll think about it," Melanie said, in a tone which clearly meant she had no intention of doing so.

Joan appeared unfazed. Instead, her matronly visage seemed almost smug. "Well, Melanie, when I said that I want you to think on it, I mean that I'd like you to someday appreciate the wisdom of my decision. Because you are being given a direction. Expect your first assignment tomorrow evening. I will let your teachers decide your lesson plans, as they are more than capable."

Melanie glared at her elder, brown eyes like smoldering embers. "Oh, come on! Why should I have to do extra..."

"Because it is necessary in the long run, dear," Joan answered. "And who knows? Perhaps eventually, you might find a reason to want to better yourself. You'll see this school has much to offer. Now go back to class, Melanie." Joan gave a dismissive wave of the fingers on her right hand, then resumed poring over the work on her desk. Melanie got up from the chair and exited, giving Candace a nonchalant grunt in response to the assistant's cheerful goodbye as Melanie brushed past her desk.

She waited until she was outside and around the corner before she cast a glance around. Satisfied no one was watching, she pulled out one of the snack foods she'd swiped from the office (a bag of jalapeno potato chips), opened them, and quickly wolfed them down. Then she resumed walking, crumpling the bag and tossing it into a trashcan she passed. After a minute, she pulled another snack from inside her vest and started on that, satisfied that she had at least won this small victory over Landy.

Didn't say grace, and I still got something to eat, you pompous cunt, Melanie thought with a smile of satisfaction. Though as she stepped outside and started back towards the school building, she once more found herself racking her brain for a reason to stay. Joan talked about eventual payoffs, but it was easy for her to say those things when Melanie still had no idea what those might be. And she still didn't feel like trusting the older woman.

The young blond continued down the stone path. Still checking to see no one was watching, she pulled a 3 Musketeers bar from her vest and peeled down the wrapper. This place is starting to seem more like every orphanage I ever broke out of, she thought as she slowly chewed a bite, letting the nougat melt on her tongue. In which case, maybe I should start thinking of how to break free of this one...


ADDITIONAL NOTES

Once again, I need to put in a chapter break. I intended for Melanie's first day of class to be one chapter, but once again, these characters are writing themselves, instead of letting me write them. So the word count is running away on me.

"Tanodshinde ne" is Japanese for "have a good day." And "Dirakatua" is Japanese for "director." When the director calls and there is a student present, Joan and her staff speak Japanese. There is a reason for this which will become apparent eventually.

And the name Ms. Wallace is a reference to the late, great Marcia Wallace, who voiced Edna Krabappel on the Simpsons since the show's beginnings (back when I was the same age Melanie is in this chapter; damn, I'm old now!), until the year she passed.

Up next: Melanie's first day of class is not over yet. And it takes an interesting twist.