A/N: Hi! I'm really letting my creative juices flow freely on this story. Please, PLEASE tell me what you think, because I really want to know what you all think of this story as it unfolds! Think of it as an experiment, and I'm here holding the beaker and wondering if it's going to blow up.

1

"Esuma!" Marie called out, running out to catch her best friend. "Did you see him yet?"

Esuma shrugged but smiled indulgently.

"Mr. Nakamura? Yes, I did." She said, her tone implying she felt there was absolutely no cause for excitement.

Marie giggled. Esuma was being her usual self: nothing could faze the girl, not even the cutest gym teacher the school had ever seen. She waved in greeting to Lily, who was just trotting their way.

Lily stopped by them, panting a bit but grinning.

"Did'ya see him?" She asked. "How is he? Is he really that cute? How old is he? What's he wearing?"

Esuma tilted her head, smiling affectionately.

"How can you talk so much on so little breath?" She asked. "Yes, I saw him. I don't know why it matters so much," she said, the smallest twinkle in her purple eyes, "but yes, he's very handsome."

"Is he old?" Lily asked again. "Like, really old?"

"What's he wearing?" Marie asked as well.

"How were Cassy and Diane during the class?"

Esuma chuckled.

"They were all over him." She said. "And so were the other girls. There was a lot of calling the name of the Lord in vain going on, all in expressions of wonderment at how perfectly good looking he was. They figure he's about thirty, and they felt his all white track suit looked very nice on him… especially the tight t-shirt."

Marie and Lily went wide eyed at the description of the teacher's apparel.

"I can't wait for this afternoon…" Lily sighed. "I hope he's still wearing the same thing… you're so lucky, Esuma, you get to see him twice today."

"You'll see him as many times a week as I will, silly." Esuma chuckled in reply.

"But you're the only one who has gym on the same day as cheerleading practice." Marie pouted. "You get a dream day once a week!"

"I think I'd rather see him on three different days." Lily interfered. "Three different outfits, you know? Plus, I don't have to wait as long between each time."

Marie considered that for a minute, and then did a little shrug.

"I guess so." She sighed. "I wonder what his first name is? Did he say, Esuma?"

"Asanuma." Esuma said.

Lily smiled dreamily.

"Asanuma Nakamura… that even rhymes…"

"No it doesn't." Marie giggled. "But it IS nice."

Esuma did not reply. She was not immune to the charm of the gym teacher herself, but she was quite intent on not letting herself act on it or even admit to it. She knew from experience that love only leads to pain when loved ones are lost. As loving as the man who had adopted her and that she thought of as another father was, as the general in charge of an elite branch of the military, he was rarely available and generally unable to make her forget the loss of her biological parents. She couldn't stand the thought of feeling this kind of pain ever again... it was bad enough that she had not been able to prevent herself from getting attached to Marie and Lily, and that she consequently worried about them on a nearly continuous basis, she didn't think she could handle falling in love.

Lily and Marie continued chatting about the new gym teacher through lunch, and try as she might, Esuma could not quite make herself mind all that much.

2

Storm Shadow sighed and sat down in the small office adjoining the gym, glancing at the clock dejectedly. He still had to go through cheerleading practice today before he could finally escape for the evening… it had only been one day, and he already wondered whether he hadn't been better off drifting in the frigid waters of the Artic.

He had taken the Gym Teacher position in this High School without much reflection; it was a pretty good cover and he was pretty certain he could get by on minimal work for a good while before the school got tired enough of him to chuck him out and look for a new teacher again. With any luck at all, this position would see to all his needs until he located McCullen and broke him out.

He hadn't counted on something that, in hindsight, he really should have expected: teenage girls.

He shuddered at the mere thought. There had been a time where love was all he had ever wanted, but that time was long past.

3

Japan, 25 years ago

"Tomisaburo." The voice was harsh, and the name was said with a hint of sarcasm that was not lost on the boy and that clearly indicated there was nothing cherished about this third son.

The boy being thus addressed quickly finished his prayer at the altar he had made for his father and turned to his uncle. He bowed and did his best to relax his eyebrows and hide his irritation at being interrupted.

"Have we not agreed that one minute a day fulfilled your obligations to your father?" The Hard Master asked.

Tomisaburo bowed deeper, hoping the angle would hide his snarl. The kick to his face that sent him into the altar, causing the picture of his father and the forget-me-not flower to crash to the ground, breaking both the frame and the small vase, proved his uncle had either seen the snarl or guessed it was there.

Tomisaburo's eyes widened as he looked at the mess. He turned to his uncle, scowling. He was picked up by his collar and slammed into the wall.

"Don't you dare look at me like this, you insolent child." The Hard Master said. "Just like your father to die and leave my brother and me to deal with YOU. You're only five, and one can already tell there is nothing in your heart but aimless anger. There is too much fire in you."

Tomisaburo opened his mouth to protest, but he was slammed into the wall again. He heard a crunching noise as the Hard Master's wooden sandal crushed what was left of the frame that still contained his father's picture.

"You will listen." The Hard Master said. "It appears I need to explain your situation to you once again. For starters, you will apologize for your rudeness."

Tomisaburo's face reddened: there was no question in his mind that if his uncle, a grown up who was now responsible for him, said he had been rude, he must have been. He had no idea, however, what it was he had done that was rude; he had even been thinking it was the other way around, that his uncle was not bothering with manners – he had even been angry.

"I'm sorry." He said sincerely. "I didn't mean to be rude."

The Hard Master was mollified enough to nod rather than to slam his nephew into the wall again.

"Your mother became ill caring for you. Do you remember this fact?"

Tomisaburo looked down and nodded. He had only vague memories of his illness, but his uncles had explained on numerous occasions that his mother had caught the dangerous virus and that, unlike him, she had not recovered.

"Your father and yourself have been nothing but a burden ever since. By his death, he at least removed himself, but he left you behind, for us to deal with."

The Hard Master's upper lip was curled in distaste. His eyes narrowed to slits as he slammed his nephew into the wall again before releasing him.

"I am obliged to grant you shelter, food and training because your mother was my sister." He snarled, glaring at the boy who had scrambled up to his knees. "If you wish for more than that, if you wish for me to actually see you as a full member of this family rather than as the orphan inflicted on us that you are, I suggest you stop ignoring my orders and start behaving. You may yet succeed at washing all traces of your father from your spirit if not from your body… if you do that, if you convince me that you are worthy of your mother and nothing like your father, I will no longer bear any hatred towards you."

Tomisaburo gulped.

"Thank you, Hard Master." He said. "I will try."

"You will start by cleaning up this mess. You may rebuild a simpler altar, but there is no need for a frame or for fresh flowers. You have until supper time to complete this task: I will not tolerate any waste of time.

Tomisaburo's eyes widened: it was about supper time now. He expected the bell announcing the meal was served to ring any second.

"Thank you, Hard Master." He said, bowing deeper and dearly hoping his uncle would be satisfied and leave.

The Hard Master nodded and walked out of the room. Tomisaburo scrambled to balance the shelf back on its holders, took the slightly rumpled picture out of the broken frame and leaned it upright against the wall, laid the flower next to it and hurried to clean up the broken frame and vase. He was just finishing toweling off the water from the vase when the dinner bell rang. He tossed the towel in his laundry basket, glanced at his simplistic altar and gave it a quick bow, then trotted off to dinner: he didn't want to be the last one there; he'd be punished if he were.

4

Storm Shadow wiped his eyes hurriedly with clenched fists. He barely remembered his mother, but he missed his father, and he missed the time where he thought he had a chance of winning the rest of his family's affection. He forced his mind back to the present just in time for the first few girls to saunter into the gym. Among them was Miss Esuma Yr, that white haired one from earlier in the day, the one that moved a bit like a cat – figured she was a cheerleader.

He came out of the office and nodded at the small group: there were still only five girls here.

"Is that all of you?" He asked.

"Yes, Mr. Nakamura!" One of them, a skinny red head, answered.

He almost blinked at the name: he still wasn't quite used to hearing it in reference to himself, but Arashikage was out of the question. Snake Eyes and the rest of GI Joe were probably looking for him, hunting him, making the borrowed name a necessity, even though he hated hiding who he was. The rest of his family may have dirtied the name in the past generation, but burying it was no way to bring honor back to it.

"Five. You're a cheerleader squad of five."

"Yes, Mr. Nakamura." Another girl answered, a chubby blonde who certainly did not match the cheerleader stereotype.

Storm Shadow sighed at the pointlessness of it all but started them up on a warm up run anyway. Perfect. This was just perfect. He had to hide like some low-life criminal, the one man who could make the World right again was gone, imprisoned who knew where, and his new mission his life was to train a cheerleader squad who wasn't even large enough to make a proper pyramid.

His eyes caught the Yr girl as she ran past, well ahead of her companions. She certainly was swift... good ninja material. He told himself that had to be the only reason he was looking at her and that it had nothing to do with the fact the cheerleader uniform looked particularly good on her.