Substitute Creature (A You Kakuzu One-shot) 1 of 2

You stared at the clock in the front of the classroom anxiously; class was supposed to have started five minutes ago and your teacher was nowhere in sight. Another five minutes and you would be free to leave and spend the rest of the class period hanging around outside the school restrooms, popping out of nowhere and scaring people with full bladders so they would make a mess that one of the school’s disgruntled janitors would be forced to clean up later.

…You really needed to find yourself a new hobby.

You watched the second hand slowly move around the clock’s face with longing. Getting out of class would be nothing short of heavenly. It wasn’t as if the class was awful or anything like that but, really, who wouldn’t want to have a break from the monotony of filling out worksheets and throwing paper airplanes when the teacher’s back was turned. That and you were tired of the kid behind you shooting spitballs at the back of your head. What a douche bag.

With thirty seconds left to go, you bit your lip in anticipation as you counted the remaining time in your head, eyes glued to the clock like a teenage boy staring at a Playboy centerfold for the very first time. Well, minus the drooling. You wiped the back of your sleeve against your mouth just to be sure.

With only ten seconds remaining, the door to the classroom burst open. The lights blinked off and an ominous wind blew through the classroom causing papers to fly and your hair to tangle into what would vaguely resemble a crow’s nest if crows had a tendency to work with powerful explosives. You paid your hair disaster little mind as a shadowed figure lurked in the doorway a moment, observing your class with glowing eyes, before slinking inside the room with the door slamming shut behind it. The lights flashed back on, burning many students’ retinas as the figure’s form was revealed.

Standing at the head of your class was a large man; tall with broad shoulders and sporting a business suit and tie that looked out of place on him. His mouth and head were completely covered up; you found that to be rather odd but not quite as odd as the strange green eyes that seemed to survey the room and narrow in a combination of disgust and annoyance. Most of the faculty within the school gave you and the majority of your peers that look so you didn’t even bother with feeling indignant. Instead, you simply snorted as the man sat on top of your teacher’s desk, making himself comfortable.

“Sorry I’m late, class. Some bum outside tried to ask me for change so I had to teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

The class stared on in silent shock.

Slowly, you raised your arm in the air. “Um, uh, sir… where is Mr. Ebisu?”

“Mr. Ebisu is… tied up at the moment” he said with a casual shrug, obviously not really caring about the unknown fate of your teacher. “I’m Mr. Kakuzu and I’ll be your substitute teacher for the day.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in a janitor’s closet on the opposite side of the school building…

“Mmph! MMPH!”

Ebisu continued to struggle against his bonds but his attempts were useless. He was tied up so tightly he thought his ribs would snap right off. And it certainly didn’t help that his mouth was stuffed with a sweaty old gym sock and then taped shut. Seriously, what kind of guy does that sort of thing?! At the very least, his attacker could have used a clean sock; it was common attacker-to-victim courtesy, after all.

Of course, there was no way that his attacker possibly could’ve been able to take him down so easily if he hadn’t used such underhanded tactics such as punching him in the back of the skull when his head was turned. Only a cheating, meanie, poo-poo-head would do something like that! Fo’ shizzle! Ebisu was so mad he could bust a cap!

With his mouth set in the closest thing to a frown that a mouth covered in duct tape could make, Ebisu sighed through his nose, a soft whistling sound bursting forth from his nostrils. He just hoped that his students would be alright. Surely they would be struck with paralyzing fear and overwhelming waves of grief when they realized that he would not be there to feed their knowledge-hungry minds. Ebisu prayed that his class would be able to hold back their tears and go on without him.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

“WOOOO! SUBSTITUTE TEACHER!”

“LET’S GO CRAZY!”

“EVERYBODY, TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!”

The classroom erupted into complete and utter chaos. Your fellow students were talking in obnoxiously loud voices, dancing on top of desks, and throwing some of the weaker, less popular students into the nearby trash bins. Luckily, only one of the students seemed keen on the idea of removing his clothing and he decided to leave on his tighty-whities as well as his socks and shoes; for modesty’s sake, you assumed.

Not really in the mood to cause chaos and discord at the moment, you opted for laying your head down on your desk with a quiet thud and blocking out the sounds of mass destruction in hopes of getting some much-needed beauty sleep.

Kakuzu, however, was not a very happy camper.

“Okay, class, settle down. Calm yourselves, you little hellions. Alright, that’s enough of that… SHUT YOUR BIG FAT TRAPS AND PLANT YOUR BONY BUTTS IN YOUR SEATS BEFORE I RIP OUT ALL YOUR VOCAL CHORDS AND STRANGLE YOU ALL WITH THEM!”

Well, that certainly got the class’s full attention.

As one, the majority of the class stopped what they were doing and firmly planted their tushies into their cold metal public-school-brand seats. You simply raised your head from your desk and quirked an eyebrow. One student was still struggling to pull himself out of the trash can that he was thrown into but no one paid him any mind because no one really liked him anyway.

Kakuzu cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes, thank you all for your cooperation.” He placed a briefcase atop the teacher’s desk and a black messenger bag on the floor beside it. “Enough time has already been wasted so let’s get to work, shall we?”

The entire class groaned as Kakuzu pulled a stack of worksheets out from his briefcase. He shot the class a glare that shut them all back up. And, judging by the smell, he probably caused one of your classmates to lose control of their bowels. You pinched your nose between your thumb and index fingers and cursed your luck for being seated next to the kid in class who could now use a change of clean underwear.

You shook your head and sighed; this was going to be the longest class period of your life.

Kakuzu continued on, ignoring the muttered protests of several students. “Today’s lesson will be on figuring out how to work out an individual’s state income taxes and, if we have time, we’ll start on federal taxes in the last half hour of class. Got it, you scoundrels?”

“Um, Mr. Kakuzu,” said a girl sitting at a desk in the front of the room, “This is Spanish class.”

“…”

Seconds later, the girl was unconscious and sprawled across the linoleum floor, a Chinese star deeply embedded in her forehead. Discreetly, you grabbed a ruler to lightly prod and jab at the girl’s ribs. She flinched at the contact; she was still alive.

Kakuzu surveyed the class, his eyes surprisingly calm. “Anyone else want to be a smart ass?”

The class remained silent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You raised your hand again. “Um, Mr. Kakuzu?” He sighed and rolled his eyes; you took it as a sign to continue. “Shouldn’t someone take her to a school nurse?” you asked, pointing to the unconscious student on the ground. “She’s losing a lot of blood; my sneakers are starting to turn red.”

Kakuzu pulled a book off of the teacher’s desk, flipping through it with disinterest. “Then have your mother buy you a new pair” he replied in nonchalance, sticking a finger under his face covering and licking it before turning the page of his text.

“That… wasn’t exactly the point I was trying to make.” But your words were ignored along with the twitching girl on the floor who was bleeding all over your favorite tennis shoes. Seriously, how rude! Here you are, trying to get her medical attention and she continues to dirty your footwear with her disgusting bodily fluids. Sheesh! That was the last time you’d ever do anything nice for her.

Ingrate.

Kakuzu forced one of the other girls in your class to pass around a worksheet. You took your own worksheet grudgingly and decided to get to work in the hopes that you would finish early so that you could spend the rest of the period sleeping. You brought the paper up to your face and began to read over the first problem.

This is Stanley. Stanley lives in California with his two dependants; his life partner Hans Van Glutenheimer and their adopted African baby Click-Cluck. Stanley makes $50,000 a year at his job performing and cleaning up at the donkey shows. This year, Stanley also donated $5,000 to the NLCAA (also known as the National Leather Chaps Appreciation Association). How much would Stanley have to pay for his state income tax? Bonus question: Where is the nearest store that sells a decent pair of ass-less leather chaps that don’t make my butt look like cottage cheese and what is the name of that store?

You blinked. You had absolutely no idea how to solve the problem. Heck, you didn’t even know what a donkey show was! You did, however, know what ass-less chaps were though you kind of wished that you didn’t. You shuddered.

You considered raising your hand and asking Kakuzu how to go about finding the answer to the problem but you had the feeling that his patience for you was already wearing thin. You weren’t in the mood to receive any major head injuries from a psychotic substitute. Not today. With a sigh, you decided to kill time by doodling a picture of Kakuzu riding a donkey and wearing a pair of ass-less leather chaps where your answer should be. You looked over your stick figure masterpiece appraisingly but you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing… Aha! With a stroke of genius, you realized the problem and gave your Kakuzu doodle a handlebar mustache. Perfect!

The shrill, shriek of a bell echoed within the classroom walls, signaling that it was time to leave for a lunch break. The class exploded into cheers as students jumped from their seats, stampeding towards the class exit like a herd of wild elephants.

“…Did I say that you could leave for lunch?”

Dark tendrils shot out from Kakuzu’s pants legs, sleeves, and mouth cover; the frightful scene was enough to cause most of the students to freeze in fear, yourself included. Those who still had the ability to move made a run for the door but their attempts to escape proved to be useless; the black tendrils wrapped around ankles, wrists, and even the necks of an unlucky few.

You gaped at the scene, ignoring the boy by your side who was making choking sounds in your ear as his face slowly changed to a lovely shade of royal blue. You gawked at Kakuzu, eyes wide and mouth open like a slack-jawed moron. You had just come to the realization that your substitute teacher was an over-glorified tentacle monster. …And you were just a young, defenseless school girl.

You had looked at enough inappropriate anime on the internet to know that things would not end well.

Kakuzu ignored the panic-stricken expressions of you and your classmates. “The bell does not dismiss you; I do. You punks can leave after I collect your worksheets.” One of the pseudo-tentacles swept across the desks, collecting all the loose papers before placing them gently in Kakuzu’s right hand. He looked over the papers with a bored expression and the tendrils released their prisoners and slowly slinked back beneath Kakuzu’s clothes to return wherever they belonged.

Kakuzu continued to flip through all the worksheets, looking over each paper for barely a second before moving on to the next one. You hoped he’d get a paper cut.

“Okay… You’re all free to go to lunch.”

Yes! You rushed towards the door along with the rest of your classmates, trying but failing to push past anyone who stood in your way and trampling on the faces of the smaller, weaker students. You awkwardly jumped onto the shoulders of the burliest student in class. Once securely settled into place and positive that you wouldn’t fall off any time soon, you dug the heel of your foot into his side to urge him on faster. With a sound strangely akin to a whinny, the boy sped up, galloping past the other students to the exit. Just before you were able to pass through the door, something thin and cold wrapped around your ankle, violently pulling you backwards as your ride ran off without you. You were thankful that you had decided to wear a pair of pants instead of a skirt because you soon found yourself hanging upside down in midair, Kakuzu’s hardened gaze glaring daggers into your skull.

“…Except for you. You have lunch detention.”

“Huh? What for?!” you cried indignantly; perhaps, in your great desire to escape from the shackles of the educational establishment, you forgot that he was a mutant freak who could easily murder you, take advantage of your corpse, and throw your remains in the nearest dumpster.

He held up the worksheet you had turned in, his brows furrowed to create an ugly expression as he pointed to your doodle with his left index finger.

You sighed. “Everybody’s a critic.”

Kakuzu ignored your comment in favor of dong something less stupid. He stared at you long and hard; behind that mouth cloth of his or whatever it was called, you were sure he was frowning. “You…”

“Me..?”

“Sit at your desk and remain silent. You will stay there for the entire lunch period.”

You raised an eyebrow. “All this for doodling a picture of you?”

“As well as neglecting to do your assignment, yes” he answered, a stern look in his eyes. “Besides,” he added, gesturing towards your doodle, “This looks nothing like me. I don’t have a mustache.”

Darn! He got you there! But, he had to admit, a mustache would look rather flattering on him.

“I’m going to grab my lunch from the cafeteria. You’re going to keep your butt in your chair and your mouth sealed shut while I’m gone. …And don’t even think of trying any funny business; I’ve got eyes and ears all over this room.”

You hoped he meant figuratively rather than literally; you didn’t like the thought of finding a burlap sack full off severed human body parts, though you wouldn’t put it past him to have one.

Kakuzu fixed you with one last hardened glare, to which you replied by twiddling your thumbs and smiling as innocently as you could muster (which was so unconvincing that it was sad), before leaving the classroom and slamming the door behind him. You listened intently as the soles of his expensive Italian shoes clicked against the hallway tile until the sound faded away into silence. Once you were sure he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Sheesh, what a creeper” you muttered to yourself.

You frowned. Here you were, all alone in your classroom, and you were bored. You entertained the idea of taking Kakuzu’s briefcase and swapping the contents with the used chewing gum stuck to the bottom of your desk but decided against it. You liked having all your limbs intact, thank you very much! So instead of doing anything mildly entertaining you settled for tapping your fingers against the desktop and sighing forlornly and burping the alphabet song as obnoxiously as you could manage and being an all-around nuisance. You know; the usual stuff.

Just after you belched out an extremely loud “R” at a pitch that could shatter glass and traumatize orphans, you heard a queer sound. No, it wasn’t Mr. Orochimaru, the music teacher, squealing as he ogled all the little boys. It sounded more like a muffled scream. To test your theory, you took a deep breath and burped up the letter “S”.

“Mmmph!”

Aha! There it was again! And it sounded as if it was coming from the classroom.

You felt a sudden lump grow in your throat. That sound could be anything! Or anyone for that matter! It could be that creepy student aide Kabuto with his rapist glasses. Or Jiraiya the overly-friendly janitor on another quest for the perfect jail bait. Or the gym teacher Mr. Gai and his reveal-all spandex. Heck, it could even be Mr. Kakuzu lurking in a dark corner to make sure that you were doing as you were told. Or worse, it could be that Shino kid. He was a nice guy and all, but he didn’t bathe and was often a breeding ground for lice and other such creepy crawlies and probably several forms of venereal diseases too.

Or maybe the sound came from the black messenger bag on the floor beside the teacher’s desk.

You raised an eyebrow as you stared at the messenger back; for a second there, you could have sworn you saw it wiggle a little bit. Odd. If all your years in school had taught you anything, it was that bags could not wiggle on their own. But you know what could wiggle? Kittens. And so, you put two and two together and came to the brilliant conclusion that Kakuzu had smuggled in a bag full of kittens.

Shucks, what were you doing in school, anyway? You’re just too darn smart for it! ROFFLE-COPTOR!

Intent to smuggle a kitten or two for yourself, you slinked towards the bag while humming the Mission Impossible theme song to yourself because, let’s face it, you were a horrible freak of nature. You rolled across the floor like a moron, most likely collecting a month’s worth of dirt in your hair and clothes. You stopped in front of the bag and promptly opened it.

Unfortunately, you were not met with the heart-warming sight of a litter of fluffy kittens.

You screamed.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Kakuzu frowned down at the tray in his hands, glaring at the slimy slop that had the audacity to call itself food. He wasn’t quite sure what the multi-colored blob was, though it smelled distinctly of spoiled mayonnaise and bologna that had been sitting out in the sun for far too long. Still, it was a free meal, so Kakuzu couldn’t afford to be picky. He would swallow down the pathetic excuse for a healthy lunch along with what little remained of his already broken pride.

Gathering his nerve, Kakuzu dipped his cheap public-school-quality plastic spork into the gelatinous substance and brought it to his eye-level. He pushed down the cloth that covered his mouth and shoveled the cafeteria food past his lips.

“That… wasn’t too terrible.”

And then the aftertaste hit him like a three-hundred-pound wife-beater with a baseball bat.

Kakuzu spat the food up, covering the floor and a couple unlucky students in a spray of chewed-up goo. He wiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth, ignoring the grumbles of the white-haired janitor as he mopped up the mess. Now, Kakuzu was by no means a connoisseur of foods, nor was he all that picky; heck, he’d lived a month on cat food and cat food alone simply because it had been on sale; but the cafeteria’s sad attempt at creating something half-edible was enough to make his stomach do somersaults.

Still, free food was free food…

Pinching his nose, Kakuzu raised the slop-filled spork back up to his mouth, preparing to take another bite of the wretched bile. Just as the pseudo-food was mere centimeters away from his open mouth, a high-pitched scream sounded, surprising Kakuzu and causing him to throw his spork in the air so that it painfully lodged itself in some poor kid’s nostril.

Kakuzu blinked; it almost sounded like the scream had come from his classroom. It must’ve been that annoying student with the big mouth, probably screaming randomly for some attention. Well, no big deal; he’d deal with it after lunch. With a sigh, Kakuzu reached for his black messenger bag that housed the terrible, horrible creature he had brought with him so that he could feed it, only to discover that the bag was not there.

Kakuzu’s eyes widened. He must’ve left the bag in the classroom! Suddenly the student’s scream seemed a lot less random.

“Son of a-”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~