Rumor Has It

Rumor Has It

AN- Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it. This chapter is just and introduction to most of the major players in the story. The action starts later. I don't know exactly how long this puppy will end up being, but it should be pretty hefty.

Legend

italics used for emphasis or thoughts.
~*~*~*~ change of time/scenery
******** change of narrative

And Then There Were Five

Sasuke


Prestigious Lord Byron Academy loomed like a stern grandfather on the not nearly distant enough horizon. Stone walls and elaborate woodwork marked the academy from the days when architecture didn't know what steel was. In late summer, the wood sweated and creaked, in the winter the window let in the chill as the formidable castle sighed and groaned with the troubles of too many generations.

It was my sophomore year at Lord Byron. Itachi, my brother, has been attending this frowning left-over of the 18th century for three years. He was in contention for valedictorian, ready to graduate with honors. He was a shoe-in for an Ivy League School.

Most of all, he was lucky. He was getting out of this after this year. I was not so lucky. To think, I've only survived one year so far. Three more years for me, three more long, long years of stuffy teachers, strict rules and boring classes. Three years of hell.

Lord Byron was the school of my father, my father's father, my father's father's father. . . You get the drift. The stuffy old academy was a tradition that Itachi and I were expected to follow, just like the tradition that dictated we both attend Princeton University after Lord Byron had it's merry way with us.

My theory is that Lord Byron is our educational tradition because it coincides with the family's vast wealth of other traditions. Meaningly, a policy of distance. I grew up in Japan. I spent summers in Italy. Winter break was squandered away in New York, spring break in Greece. I speak four languages. I have four different houses.

Supposedly, absence makes one appreciate family. I appreciated spending time away from my parents, but I didn't appreciate Lord Byron.

Next to me in the limo, Itachi shifted in his seat. I almost started. I'd forgotten he was even here. He's so damn quiet that I lose track of him sometimes. You can't find him when you're looking for him and when you aren't looking, there he is. I think its his strategy for survival. No one can bother him if no one can see him. It's a little unnerving sometimes. Most of the time.

He inclined his head towards me, having noticed my almost-jump of fright. That's another thing about my brother that's unnerving; he sees everything. Either he's physic or he had 360 degree vision. 360 degree vision that defies time and space and has no blind spots. My vote is with physic.

His black eyes glanced over me for a moment before flicking up in the direction of Lord Byron. Face expressionless, he continued staring as if he was seeing all the secrets of Byron etched into the stone walls. "If you look closely," he said flatly, still looking out the windows instead of me, "you can see doom in the air."

Did I mention that Itachi is a bit on the morbid side sometimes?

I looked followed his gaze. Through the tinted windows, the castle had an air of darkness to the grey and white stones. The north tower rose into the sky, moss creeping up the wall in splotches of green and grey-blue. As our limousine inched closer to the school, I could see that the doors to the keep were flung wide open, welcoming me back. Foreboding. A place I hated.

"Yeah," I agreed quietly, though I knew Itachi would hear it. "Doom."


*******

Kiba


Man, this place sucks.

Everywhere I turn, I see rich pricks with practiced looks of boredom on their faces. The people hear at Byron have only three facial expressions as far as I can see: bored, grim, and malicious. Bored and grim are almost the same expression, grim being the result of too much boredom. The malicious expression is really nothing more than a smirk, but you don't want someone to use it on you. It means you're a target.

I had the look aimed at me plenty last year. The rich kids don't like charity cases like me in their fancy little prep school. I taint their hallowed hallways with my presence apparently. Yep, tracked mud in on the carpet in my plain old flip flops that I found on sale for eight dollars at Wal mart and earned the malicious look right from the start. Back then I didn't think anything of it. I'm used to the weird looks people give me for the red tattoos on my face and the mesh shirts that I wear. But now, I know better.

This school is evil.

I made a lot of enemies that I didn't mean to make last year. I was hated the minute I walked through the wooden doors of Lord Byron, public enemy number one. And why? Because I wear mesh shirts and flip flops. Because I tattooed my face and wrists. Because I don't know how to pronounce Dolce and Gabbana properly. In short, I'm not one of *them*. I'm one of *those*. I didn't have to pay a penny to get into this place. I was here on an athletic scholarship. My job is to kick ass in football, known in the U.S.A. as soccer, not play a role in the workings of Byron's social code of conduct. I'm not a freakin' debutante and I don't wanna to be.

*They* wanted me to be. And when I refused, I became an outsider. All it took was one no to the wrong person and I was officially ostracized.

Of course, enemies weren't all I made. Even a guy like me has to have allies. The more distant I became from the elite Byron crowd, the more I discovered the underbelly, my fellow dregs of the system. I found some really cool people here. They are what made me decide to renew my scholarship.

Standing on tip-toes, I strained my neck to see above the crowd. If he was already here, I figured he shouldn't be too hard to spot. Bright blonde hair and a tendency towards bright clothes made Naruto an easy person to see, except for one little problem; he's kinda on the short side. Hence the tiptoes.

Hehe. Little problem.

Still, how many people would dare wear orange in a place like this? It was practically blasphemy, a sin against the venerated spirit of Lord Byron, who I can't imagine was exactly a hoot to be around. Stuffy school meant stuffy founder meant Kiba found a way to smuggle in some alcohol.

There. A quick flash of orange off to my left. Had to be Naruto. Taking a chance, I left my duffel bags behind for a minute to snatch Naruto before he disappeared into the sea of tall people. He yelped when I grabbed the hem of his brightly colored shirt and proceeded to drag him and his luggage back ten feet to my pile of duffels.

Squawking indignantly Naruto looked every which way but up until he finally noticed who his captor was. "K-kiba," he sputtered. "What the hell man?"

I shrugged, none too gently hauling him to his feet. "I didn't feel like yelling your name out in front of everyone. Besides, you were wondering around all aimlessly."

"I was looking for you, jackass," he retorted sullenly, although he was quickly calming down. Naruto doesn't stay mad for very long. Short attention span. "This place is still huge."

I scanned the my surroundings, taking in the enormity of just this room alone. The foyer. Not even a real room. We both tilted our heads and looked up at the ceiling more than five hundred feet above our heads. Ornate ceramic birds and flowers looked down upon from the molding and a fresco full of knights, lords, and ladies gazed down at us from their day at court. They were probably wondering the same thing that I was. What the hell was I doing here?

"I still think those birds are creepy," I declared, my voice rising up so that they could hear. "They look alive."

"Don't give them ideas," Naruto cautioned. "They could peck our eyes out with their sharp, pointy beaks of death."

We both winced in unison.

"That's disgusting," a bored voice drawled from behind us. A voice I would have recognized anywhere. "Inanimate objects aren't supposed to scare fifteen year olds."

Naruto spun on his heel with a face full of glee and would have jumped him if I hadn't held him by the collar. "Shika. Long time no see, buddy."

"Yes, an entire summer," he drawled sarcastically. Everything Shikamaru Nara said was drawled out, as if it were too much trouble and it was being forcibly pulled from his throat. "I can't believe how much you haven't grown."

Once again, I was glad I had Naruto by the shirt. It wasn't that Naruto would hurt Shika, but he was bound to make a scene. Hell, we were already making a scene. A bunch of kids were glancing furtively in our direction all while trying to look disinterested as Naruto tried in vain to get at Shika.

"Don't be such a dill hole," he commanded with an authority he didn't have. "You aren't much taller than me, you know."

"I can hardly fail to notice. But four inches is four inches." He jerked his head lazily in the direction of the ballroom, ignoring Naruto's protests."You two should head on inside. They're giving out room assignments."

I let go of Naruto’s shirt, as he was now distracted by the excitement of prospective roommates and ignoring me and Shikamaru. The boy's bipolar, I swear it. "Which room are you in, Nara?"

He looked over me curiously, as if wondering why I cared and if he should even bother answering. "211 West."

Naruto tugged on my shirt to usher me along. "Come on Kiba. I want to put my shit away."

I grinned ruefully, pinching his arm to make him let go. "See ya later, Nara."

Shikamaru shrugged and meandered through the crowd, sticking out just as much in the crowd as we did in his tight mesh shirt, cargo pants, ponytail, and knee high army boots. His family owns a chains of clothing stores in the United Kingdom, specializing in punk and gothic attire, making him one of the few rich kids that I actually liked. He's not pretentious like the rest of the crowd he hangs out with sometimes. Just like me and Naruto, he's a little bit of a reject, but still allowed to be part of the other crowd because he has so much money. He's our inside source of information on what's happening in the rich prick world. And even though Shikamaru always looks bored and disinterested like the others, he isn't doing it to make himself seem more aloof. He really just doesn't care. I admire that, in a weird way.

"He'll learn to say goodbye one of these days," Naruto commented as he hoisted his bags over his shoulders.

I followed suit, noting that there were still a few students looking over at us through disapprovingly. Albeit, they did it discreetly, but you can always feels eyes on you. These eyes were going over my low-slung cargo pants, mesh covered arms, the silver hoop in my ear, Naruto's shaggy hair and loud shirt. "I doubt it," I said good-naturedly. "He’s Shikamaru. I'd be disappointed if he went and changed on us."

"Yeah," he agreed cheerfully. "Shika is Shika." He used his thumb to point at the ballroom. "You ready?"

Was I ready? It's not like this year would be any different from last year. We were still the charity cases we were before, still weirdos. But last year had made me smarter.

"Ready as I can be," I settled on finally. This school was not going to get me like last year. I just had to be more careful.

"Good for you," Naruto said. "I'm scared shitless."


*******


Itachi


I initially assumed that there would be a sense of relief when I stepped through Lord Byron's doors for the fourth year in a row. The end of the road was just up ahead. As soon as I finished this year, I was out forever.

Out is a funny word. I find that in life you don't get out of anything, you just get into something else. I wasn't getting out of Lord Byron, I was getting into Princeton. Once I got out of Princeton, I would be getting into father's company.

There is no way out.

I was the first one to settle into my dorm room. I took the bed in the corner by the window, the one most isolated from the room's main activity. My roommates wouldn't like me. None of my roommates ever liked me. In fact, I was pretty sure they were scared of me. I don't know why exactly, but in my sophomore I had them convinced that I was a mute for the first couple of weeks. Others tiptoed around me like I was a deadly virus they could contract. Quite comical, actually.

There are a lot of rumors circulating through Lord Byron about me. I've been whispered about as everything from a rapist to schizophrenic. One of the more far-fetched rumors had me pegged as a vampire, but that's just lunacy. Pale skin and black eyes does not make one a vampire, it makes one of Japanese descent. Idiots.

By now, I knew the drill. Arrival and settling in was from ten to one. Lunch is at one. From two to four is a long winded orientation speech for the freshman. The rest of the school only has a one hour lecture and is released at three to do as we please until dinner at seven. Then we have time to do a whole bunch of nothing until classes start in two days.

I was going to get a lot of reading done in the next few days.

My schedule was hardly difficult. I have yet to encounter a subject in which I have trouble, and I expected physics to be no different. I also had literature, calculus, Latin, French, European history, and phys ed. I didn’t even have each class every day.

I really wanted to just walk out and never come back. To any of it, Lord Byron, my father, Princeton. And maybe I would take Sasuke with me. He didn’t like it here anymore than I did, and he was, after all, my brother.

Of course, I was kidding myself. I couldn't leave. Where would I go?

Stuck at Byron.

Stuck at Princeton.

Stuck.

The creaking of the door distracted me from my self loathing, though I made no move to acknowledge my new roommate. Since my reputation precedes me, I wasn't even expecting a greeting. People don't talk to me. They nod out of respect and deference, but they don't start conversations.

"What, not even a hello?" the newcomer said with a chuckle. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, like something I should definitely know. It was a rough, scratchy Australian accent a little on the overpowering side, demanding attention even when the situation didn't call for it.

"Hel-lo. Come on, I know you aren't mute. Or deaf."

How irritating.

"Itachi," he called familiarly. I guess I was supposed to know him.

Slowly, I turned around from where I'd been arranging my uniforms in the closet. The figure I met with was sporting a very tooth grin, tanned skin, dark blue eyes and a shock of black hair. All sharp angles and thick muscle, this boy did indeed look familiar.

Ah yes. Chemistry class last years. He sat in front of me.

I nodded briefly to let him that no, I was not deaf, but yes, I was selectively mute. Then I returned to my task.

"Took you long enough," Kisame grumbled as he tossed his duffel bags heftily across the room to the bed closest to mine. "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of genius?"

Why was he still talking to me?

He took a few steps forward, examining the room briefly before scoffing. "Is it just me, or do these room seem to get smaller every year?"

Leave me alone.

"You really don't talk much, do you?"

Is that not obvious?

Kisame plopped gracelessly onto the bed, shoving his luggage to the floor as an afterthought. "Man, I'm exhausted. Flew all the way in from Australia. Three layovers."

Fascinating.

"I hate planes." He kicked off his shoes, further adding to the destruction of the room. One of them flew dangerously close to hitting my in the calf. "My ears pop like crazy."

I looked down at his offending sneaker. I didn't like it so close to me. Kami knows where it had been. "Get your shoe away from me," I said without looking at him. I didn't want to encourage him.

"Finally," he chuckled. "If I'd known that that was what it took, I'd have thrown it at you a lot sooner."

"Your shoe," I repeated vacantly.

Kisame got off the bed with a grunt and retrieved his footwear like I asked, except he felt the need to tap my arm with it. I glared mildly at him, still wondering what the hell it was he wanted. Did he enjoy annoying me or something? Was this going to be an everyday occurrence? Was I going to have to kill him?

"Do you have anyone to eat lunch with?" he inquired, throwing the shoe over his shoulder carelessly. It hit the wall with an obnoxiously loud thump. I blinked once in surprise. I was considered one of the popular kids by default because of the family name. Some days I sat with a group of people that I know through the family. They ignore me and I ignore them in return. Most of the time, however, I holed up in the library with some grapes and a Kurt Vonnegut book and pretended that the world no longer existed. I liked the quiet.

"Yes." I considered myself the perfect company. I didn’t need him to intrude in my personal space.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, if you ever need company, you know where I live."

Of course I knew where he lived. His belongings were all over the floor. What I didn't know was why he kept bothering me. Or why he was watching me like I was a curious space creature.

"That was a joke, Itachi."

I caught his eyes cooly. "Jokes are supposed to be funny."

"So I'm no comedian. So sue me. Hell, I know a great lawyer you can use."

"I have my own lawyer." I'm an Uchiha. I've had a lawyer in the wings since I was ten.

Kisame grinned boldly. "My lawyer could kick your lawyer's ass."

I highly doubted that. Shrugging dismissively, I pried open a new box, hoping that he would get the hint and leave me be. Inside of this book was part of my book collection from home, the one in Italy, that is. I was planning on having the rest of my collection fed-exed to me sometime in the next month. No matter how many time I read and reread them, I didn't tire of their contents. Books were my salvation, taking me out of this world and into another, one that isn't mine.

My fingers came to rest on one of my favorite Kurt Vonnegut books, Sirens of Titan. I'd read it at least three times over the summer. I still wasn't sure if I loved this book so much because of the content, or because of the name on the inside cover.

I flipped oven the book reverently, like I'd done so many times before, just to see his name. Kakashi Hatake. My English teacher. My only friend.

"Guess you read a lot, huh?"

This was going to be a long year. Hopefully Hatake-san would be around for me to fall back on when I couldn't take this place anymore.

Naruto


"We aren't in the same room," I said sullenly. "Stupid Lord Byron bastards. Who know who they stuck me with."

Kiba smacked me in the back of the head. I scowled up at him. Why does he always have to hit me? "Stop it. You're going to damage my brain if you keep that up."

"It's already damaged enough. Come on, Naruto. Think. 211 West. It should sound familiar."

"211 West. That's on the third floor, right?"

I didn't see the smack coming until it was too late. "You moron. You're in Shikamaru's room."

Really? I forced my brain to think back to earlier, when Kiba had asked Shikamaru his room number. I hadn't really been paying attention then. I remember thinking about how hungry I was, and how they probably wouldn't serve ramen for lunch. I remember something about the ballroom. I remember wondering what room Sasuke had for the year and hoping it was close to mine. But I didn't remember hearing Shika's answer.

"Well, that's good news, then."

Kiba growled under his breath. "You are the most oblivious person I've ever met, Naruto."

I smiled up at him, taking his gruffness in stride. He was probably just mad because he wanted to room with Shikamaru. Kiba’s had a crush on the guy since last year, and I don’t blame him. Dark almond eyes, one damn fine build, and renegade earrings made Shikamaru my type of guy. Well, usually. Lately, I've found that tastes aren't the same as they used to be.

Raven black hair falling into his equally black eyes. Pale skin offset by the dark halo of hair surrounding his delicate features. Red lips, high cheekbones. He was pretty, sexy, and hot all at once.

But of course, Sasuke Uchiha would never fall someone like me. I'm not hot, I'm just. . .not. Still, if I shared a room with him, who knows what could happen, right? I've got charm, I've got charisma. I have a great smile. It could work.

"Earth to Naruto. You in there?"

"Huh?"

Kiba leered at me knowingly. "You really are oblivious."

I harrumphed accordingly and shouldered my duffels bags. If only you knew, Kiba. I could daydream about Sasuke and his creamy porcelain skin all day. Skin that I wanted to kiss and lick like an ice cream cone. Skin that I would get to see when he came back in a towel from the showers.

. . . . .

Whoops, went brain-dead for a minute there.

Shaking my head to clear it of sexy Sasuke thoughts, I blasted a grin Kiba’s way. "Let’s go." That's right, denial is the key. "Shika's gonna be so happy to see me." Hehe. Like Shika's happy to see anyone.

Up three flights of stairs we went, weaving through small cliches of students dallying near the banister of the grand staircase. I willed myself to shrink down to nothing as we passed by one group in particular. The five girls who ruled the school with iron fists.

I sensed Kiba's grimace. These were the girls that had made Kiba's life a living hell last year. Pretty, popular, and extremely influential, these girls had a hand in everything that happened in Lord Byron. They were on student council, they had friends in high places, and most importantly, they had rich daddies who could sic a lawyer on your ass faster than you can say 'uh oh' if you so much as looked at them the wrong way.

The one closest to us as we passed was Sakura Haruno. Red haired, green eyed Sakura was a temperamental vixen who would just as soon stick a knife in your throat as look at you. Sole heiress to a Swiss jewelry company, Sakura was one of the smartest students in Lord Byron. Unfortunately, she uses her wiles to invent creative ways to bring people to their knees just as often as in her studies, making her one of the most deadly as well. It was a well known fact that she had her eye on Sasuke Uchiha, who showed about as much interest in her as a rock. Naturally, that made her more bitchy.

Next to Sakura was Ino Yamanaka, big blue eyes, long blonde hair, and sizeable tits made Ino veritable eye candy for any straight guy alive. Bossy, loud mouthed Ino always seemed to get the gossip first, so when a rumor started, it was safe to say that she was somehow connected. Her daddy was the proprietor of the Eden Botanical Gardens, the place where obnoxiously rich people went to have their wedding pictures done. She always smells like jasmine, but she's anything but sweet.

Standing just out of the circle was Hinata Hyuuga, the quietest and wealthiest of the bunch. Hyuuga money was old money, meaningly that Hinata wasn't being bred for the family business, but marriage. Decidedly soft-spoken, the dark haired bright eyed Hinata didn't look like much of a threat, but that didn't stop her from being dangerous. No matter how innocent she looked, her allegiance belonged to the group, and she did what they wanted with little protest.

Directly on Ino's left was Ten Ten. Like Hinata, Ten Ten was on the quiet side, and used primarily to do the bolder girls' dirty work. Petite and sweet faced, she was well known as the little whisper in your ear and the girl always just around the corner. She had an uncannily accurate sense of hearing and the amazing ability to find new targets.

The girl leaning against the wall was Temari, perhaps the vilest of them all. Her grayish blue eyes reminded me of a hawk, constantly on the lookout for new prey. I was pretty sure that all orders came from the blonde who's daddy owned an extremely lucrative chain of vineyards in Italy, France, Napa Valley, and Greece. Whereas Sakura, Ino, and Hinata were sophomores, Temari was a junior, which only gave her an advantage when it came to torturing people. She was the girl we suspected came up with that ridiculous rumor about Kiba in the first place.

"Witches," Kiba muttered under his breath as we passed, walking as quickly as we could without looking like we were avoiding them. As bad as it was to be targets of their wrath, it was even worse if you showed fear. They fed on it.

Ten Ten's and Temari's heads rotated to face us, proving yet again that Temari saw everything and that Ten Ten heard everything. "Well now, if isn’t our favorite slut," Temari crooned too sweetly.

I was happy to ignore the bitch squad and keep on going, but Kiba was rooted to the spot. His hands were clenched is anger. I sensed danger. It is not a good idea to get in their way.

Ino played idly with a ring on her finger, cerulean eyes twinkling deviously as she oh-so-casually looked at a point right over his shoulder. "How's the headmistress, Kiba?"

The idea that Ino was playing at innocent was laughable. She was the girl who rolled up her skirt a little too high and unbuttoned one too many buttons on her shirt. But God forbid you called her a slut to her face. That's against protocol.

Kiba turned on his heels, slouching as nonchalantly as possible. That's right Kiba, show no fear. But don't insult them. Please don't insult them.

"I don’t know, Ino. Maybe you should ask your daddy."

Oh, damn.

Four things happened at once. Hinata, Ten Ten and Sakura went so quiet that I swear they stopped breathing. My jaw dropped straight to the floor. All of the blood in Ino's body rushed to her face. And Temari smiled, slow and scary with a lot of teeth, like a jackal.

Bad Kiba. Very bad. They were going to cut him up and eat him for dinner with their sparkling wine and snails on gold rimmed china. I walked back down the few stairs that I'd advanced since Kiba’s halt. "Um, Kiba," I said anxiously, tugging on his tank top. "We should go." Like now.

Temari still had that scary smile on her face. "I see you grew a spine over the summer, Inuzuka. I like 'em feisty."

"And you grew a second head to house the rest of your humongous ego. Congratulations."


I was growing distinctly uncomfortable. What in the hell did he think he was doing?


Ino was still gasping over the insult to her father, fists clenching and unclenching violently. There was bloodlust in her blue eyes. "I hope you know what you're insinuating Inuzuka," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Because if you don't. . ."


Temari held out a hand to silence her. "No, Ino. I think he knows what he's doing.” She locked her grey-blue eyes on Kiba-s black ones intensely. "Shame he thinks it'll work, though."


He had to be crazy. Why would he say something like that? You don’t just go around calling Ino Yamanaka’s father a cheater not matter what kind of rumors there were about him and his wife. It was about as taboo as calling Ino a slut. He was asking for it!


He was asking for it?


Fuck


Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.


Fuck!


Kiba, what could you possibly be thinking? And you call me stupid?


TBC

~*~*~*~*~

I know it's kind of weird to see Hinata as a "bad guy" but I needed another girl. Don't get me wrong. I'm not bashing the girls for no reason. I actually love Temari, but I need antagonists.