Make a Man Out of You // open

[→ victoria]

Deidara's day definitely could have gone better. So far, it had consisted of being insulted, sexually harassed, and taunted. Not only that, but rumors had already begun to weave throughout the gossip of the school. What, had Sai told everyone what he'd done? Word spread fast through Konoha High. When it was apparent that the grapevine could not be snipped, the artist had decided to isolate himself. Already, he'd heard a few students talking behind his back, whispering things like, "He felt him up, didn't you hear? Wanted to find out if he was a girl..." "Wait, Iwakura-sensei is male after all? I thought she-- he was just pulling our legs..." Yeah, Deidara's masculinity felt a bit attacked at the moment. He didn't look that effeminate, did he? Honestly, he'd seen students far more feminine than he was. Like that Haku kid, for instance. And the Hyuuga prodigy boy... He was heaps girlier... wasn't he? Such degrading contemplation was not what he'd hope to dwell over on a Friday afternoon.

The blond had locked himself up in his office for most of the day, only venturing elsewhere for classes and coffee. Despite wanting to keep himself withdrawn from the rest of the school to keep his ego intact, all of this gender confusion was annoying him. He felt restless, like he had an itch he couldn't scratch. So, with the school day nearly done, Deidara decided that he needed to do something manly. From what he knew of the class schedule, there wouldn't be anyone in the gym right now so it was best to take advantage of that while he could. He'd never been particularly enthusiastic about sports, but he didn't seem to shun them, either. Being active was good for his creative energy, didn't you know? This wasn't to say, though, that the man was an impressive athlete. He was an artist first and foremost. Still... He wasn't a wuss or anything. This solo workout would prove so to himself or anyone who happened upon him. At least, he seemed sure it would.

The gymnasium was strange when it was empty like this. It was such a big room with a high ceiling and vast space. When unoccupied, it echoed with the slightest squeak of shoe soles against the floor or the bounce of a ball against the basketball hoop. For a moment or two, Deidara actually felt... awkward. He stood in the middle of the room, glancing around himself in a wary, suspicious stare. The gym teachers must have been tucked in their offices or spending free time in the lounge. Whatever the case, it seemed as though this domain was all his for the moment. His eyebrows were furrowed a little in determination as he rolled up his sleeves and sought out a basketball. I'm such a man. Masculinity is my middle name. Hm! He didn't have to prove himself to anyone. Such was the chore of insecure brats like the many that walked through these halls. But being groped and teased had left his ego a little dented and it was time to fix that.

For twenty minutes or so, Deidara distracted his stormy mood by shooting hoops. His aim was brilliant, but his height put him at a bit of a disadvantage. A bemused part of his mind was actually glad no one else was here to challenge him; no one taller, anyway. He actually kind of enjoyed this, though. Sure, it wasn't art or anything grand like that, but the motion of his limbs and the focus on the hoop seemed to shift aside all the rage that had built up in him today. He even prided himself on making a shot from the free-throw line. It had only been one shot out of many... but still. The manly side of his ego had begun to return and that's what mattered. But, when he tried to dunk the ball, miscalculating his reach, he found himself scowling again. The ball hit the side of the rim and shot backwards toward the opposite end of the court at high speeds. Fantastic.

Landing a bit clumsily from his leap at the hoop, Deidara glanced around himself to find that the ball must have rolled behind something. It was nowhere to be seen. Well, he supposed he'd secured his masculinity enough for now, anyway. The basketball would have to be found, though. The last thing he wanted anytime soon was to have the gym teachers breathing down his neck. Deidara might have been a haughty man, but he wasn't a complete fool.

[Juicy !]

It was quite a long day. That is, to assume that the clock was accurate, and the bells rung accordingly, it was a metaphorically long day. First of all, there were no freshman or sophomores (or the few juniors re-taking the class) that weren't talking about the Art teacher. All of them seemed to have some input about how he's really just a girl, but how that wasn't true either, and it only went on. Second of all, to shut them up was quite annoying. Kisame only lectured one, or two days a week. Never a Monday, either (there was a point that he hated Mondays as much as any of the kids that walked in the doors, so it wasn't happening). There should be no reason to have to literally yell at them to shut up. Kisame had a tolerance up to a point. He ended up telling the class to, “Shut the hell up or get out of here; I don't care where you go, just get out.” Only four kids were ballsy enough to get out of their seats and walk out. Well, simple enough, unless they knew the material, Kisame would be putting red F's on four projects, if not more. Even sadder, this was probably the easier unit of the year, in which the project was the only one going in the “project” section of grading. It really sucked for them. And him.

In other words, the man was more than annoyed with any of the teenagers in the school. The more he heard about it, the worse his headache got, and only made him crave utter silence and a cigarette. Very fresh, possibly four, cigarettes. Rubbing his round eyes, Hoshigaki-sama (Or Kisame as he forced them to call him) got out of his desk, shoved the extra project rubrics in the desk drawer, and thanked the unknown God that he didn't believe in for giving him this time alone, finally. He walked out of his classroom, taking a swift right and a left, and meeting at the art door (where he usually left to smoke a cigarette (because it basically had a back door and all the other doors locked when you went out of them) which so happened to be locked. Damn. What time was it? Looking at the little schedule thing on the window, he sighed, figuring out neither of the art teachers were there, because, like him, they had too much free-time. With one step back, and other turning him down another hall a thought occurred to him. Would he really risk going through the gym where the annoying Gym teacher was?

It was a fact that Kisame didn't necessarily get along with all of the faculty (though he tolerated them), especially not the gym teacher. At least the only one he had really talked to. The man was loud, obnoxious, and worse with his ramblings then anyone he'd ever heard (and Kisame had been around many shit-faced people in his lifetime). The real question lied with if he would want to deal with that, and his headache, while trying to get out and smoke? Sighing, he stopped mid-step, holding that moment of exhalation. It was, it truly was worth it. Getting back into his lengthy strides (being 6'5” did give the perk to get around faster by walking) he continued off towards the gym. Even if he was annoyed to death, he had about a full pack, maybe that would chip off the headache, or at least numb the annoyance down to a fragment of what it was originally. Yeah, hopefully.

By the time the shark-man had gotten to the doors of the gym and entered into what could only be the pre-gym opening-type-thing (tile, drinking fountains and sports awards) he noticed a orange, round ball roll out. It could mean one of two things, in usual circumstances: the teacher was playing basketball alone, or there was a kid ditching. One was horrendous, the other wasn't so bad. Taking a deep breath the man bent down in his casual dark jeans and a gray shirt and watched his painted-nailed (yes, it was a habit from high school when most of his crowd was punkers) hands pull it up. Tucking it under his arm, he walked in, only so happy to see that it was, in fact, not the gym teacher, but the art TA. His black doc's squeaked the first step he took onto the wooden flooring, but the noise wasn't as interesting as finding the art-man of all the talk around school, in the gym. It was a slightly entertaining idea; the man who sits and molds clay was playing with a basketball in order to get away. At least, that's only what Kisame assumed, for, he didn't take Deidara for one who would shoot hoops in his free-time.

With a slight smirk, he threw the basketball over to the short blond, they were a bit of a distance, but not too far of a rang (maybe half-court), saying, “Planning on being the next basketball coach?” A slightly sarcastic remark, as Kisame nearly knew it wasn't going to happen. There could only be one explanation for Deidara in an empty gym: He was running away to find solitude, just as Kisame was doing himself. “Or just salvaging your masculinity?” Kisame had a slight joking tone to his voice as he walked over to the blond, as if to greet for a second. If the other wasn't moping around feeling sorry for himself, he may make for good company. If not, well, the doors were over there and everything he needed was in his pocket, usually making a rectangle-shape from his pocket. Mostly because Kisame isn't quite the nurturing, caring type, and thank god he would never be a mother, because it just wasn't ever going to happen.

[→ victoria]

Ugh, the gym teachers were going to be on his case about this wayward basketball. Sure, he could easily slink out now before they emerged from wherever they were and evade their suspicions, but they always seemed to know about what went on in their gymnasium, even when they weren't physically present. It was a bit eerie, actually. In a way, though, Deidara seemed to have this bizarre bond with the art room as well. He would usually get an odd impulse to check on it whenever an impish student had managed to sneak into it somehow. The man sighed as he glanced vaguely around the room for any sign of the ball. There wasn't much for it to hide behind... so where had it gone? This was silly. Not to mention, a little aggravating. He turned to face the hoop again and eyed it critically, as though it was to blame for the ball's unknown whereabouts.

As he stood there, hands positioned on his hips, he heard shoes squeak against the floor. This could mean many things. These could be the shoes of a student, the janitor, or one of the gym teachers. None of those options seemed like appealing company for the blond, who had gone tense with sensing this entrance. Deidara braced himself for one of the unwelcome results to his suspicions and turned around to regard the newcomer. Oh. It wasn't any of those things... Huh. What was Kisame doing here? The artist tilted his head a little upon fixing his eyes on the tall Bio teacher, his body language relaxing a little in familiarity. Of all the people to stumble upon him, Kisame wasn't too bad at all. In fact, Deidara harbored a kind of respect for the guy. He even mirrored his smirk when lifting his hands to catch the ball.

The young teacher made an amused grunt in response to his questions, just shifting the ball from one hand to the other in slow, lazy movements of his hands. "Why would I need to do that, hn? Don't tell me you're taking student gossip seriously, Kisame." He said this in his own taunting tone of voice, smirk unwavering from his lips. Annoyed as he was over what had transpired that day, he wasn't about to let his pride take more blows anytime soon. As though to prove the credibility of his confidence, Deidara turned on his heel and threw the basketball toward the hoop for one last shot. This distance wasn't too far, so his attempt was actually successful and resulted in the satisfying swish of the net as the ball fell through. The TA glanced back over at Kisame with a haughty grin that spoke for itself. It was a lucky shot, but Deidara didn't feel the need to bring this to light.

He chuckled a little and faced his colleague again, shifting his weight a little as he surveyed the taller man in that calm, cool composure that had been so unbalanced earlier; a skin so easy to shed. "I just needed to get away from all the brats and paperwork. Isn't that why you're here?" Deidara liked the idea of keeping the subject away from all the talk about himself that had begun circulating so quickly through the school. Best to draw the attention onto the shark man instead. "You look like you're heading out for a smoke. I locked the art room, after all." Yes, he was aware of Kisame's habits. It wasn't as though it was difficult to forget such a profile when it cut through your work space often enough. "Hard day?"

[Juicy !]

Kisame was certainly happy to see that the bond Art TA wasn't moping around. Aright, maybe he was before he walked in, however, the kind of atmosphere in the room shifted into something a bit more welcoming. Then again, Kisame's headache was starting to die down ( a little) and the gym teacher was no where in sight. Three good things were here, and the man was just glad to be out of his classroom and away from the kids. No matter if it was in a gym that stunk like the armpits of the twelve obese kids, or the socks of a thousand jocks. It was all kind of the change in atmosphere (beisdes the outside with a cigarette in his hand) that was a bit more agreeable with him. Though that doesn't mean the blond's words surprised him.

Deidara was one person that a a bit more easily predictable then the rest of the staff here. For one, the blond had some ego-issues that, while not needing immediate attention, were vibrant enough in themselves. For two, he was art. If you spoke to him about it, or even tried to challenge him, unless you had an accurate side to what you were arguing, he would shove it all back in your face. Another reason why Kisame wasn't so big in the art department. And finally, Deidara was a bit more.. hot-headed then most. It was easy to piss the man off, let's just say. As long as you hit the right buttons, like an apparent student did today, he would go off like a firecracker. Though the taller man didn't know too much on the blond one, he knew just enough to be able to scratch the surface, without needing to go any deeper.

The response, however, for his comment, wasn't uncharacteristic of Deidara at all, from Kisame's standpoint. Though the man did like to throw in a bit of his own here and there, ”When at least eight kids in every class of the day are talking about it, it gets easy to pick out what's real,” with a fairly sharp-toothed smirk, his small eyes watched as the other shot the basketball into the hoop, providing a perfect swoosh that couldn't have been the shorter man's natural ability. It's never been exactly noticed if Deidara every played sports, but in Kisame's eyes, it had t have been a 'No, not really ever'. Though the shark-man wasn't a big basketball star himself, he was pretty sure it would have been easy for him, with his height, to win over Deidara. Keeping ahold of his smirk, he watched the ball drop before looking back at the blond and shoving a hand in his pocket, ”Well done, but I bet you wouldn't stand much of a chance against me.” it wasn't necessarily a challenge, more of a dry-humor initiating a 'yes, I am taller than you,' kind of thing. Just because the other didn't have the best day, didn't mean Kisame was going to be hugging him and wishing him well, now was it?

The other seemed to be quite a reasonable measure calmer than he was when Kisame first walked in, though, that usually just made for better company, in which, he wasn't complaining. Though Deidara did bring up a valid point of why he was here. Brats, paperwork, annoyances, nicotine headaches, and the art room being locked were all valid reasons. Though he was mostly wrong when it came to the first two. ”Paperwork, not so much, except the few detention slips I had to sign today,” He sighed lightly looking tot he blond man, ”Mostly thanks to you, but they wouldn't shut the hell up, so I guess it's all their fault.” smirking lightly, he knew not to get on the other's case too much, but a little here and there was necessary, because today was just too much of living hell (or whatever the fuck Kisame actually believed in). The blond was accurate though, in the fact that he was down here fore a smoke. In fact.. maybe he did feel like being nice today. ”If you weren't down here I would'a gotten one a bit sooner, too,” Continuing, he grabbed the pack out of his pocket and checked how much he actually had left (ending up being a bit more than he thought), and put one behind his ear, ”My day was probably shit compared to yours, though, your want one?” It was more of a take one or don't, no thank-you's no nothing kind of offer, though there was a slight smirk on his face as he looked around for a second, then towards the outside door. Maybe a bad day could come to a bit of a better ending?

[→ victoria]

Kisame was a pretty chill dude, in Deidara's opinion. Though a great deal of the faculty (certain members in particular) ruffled his feathers in all the wrong ways, the shark man didn't seem half bad. In fact, he seemed pretty interesting. Just looking at him was interesting. What with the tattoo markings on his face, the pointed teeth, his intimidating height... Heh. One could say that Kisame was almost like a unique style of art form. Plus, he didn't take crap from the students. That, in itself, was an admirable quality in any colleague here. Deidara may not have known him for very long, but he felt the man was worthy of a little respect. Not enough to spare him from bemused quips now and then, but more so than many of the other people he came in contact with daily. He seemed more at ease now that Kisame had joined him in the gym, though the smell really was pretty damn repulsive here. The classrooms already smelt of sweaty teenagers... This place only accentuated that scent tenfold. How did the gym teachers put up with it? The satisfaction of watching students pass out from exhaustion probably helped them cope a bit.

In spite of being short-tempered, he was quite capable of acting calm and cool. In fact, that's usually how he portrayed his behavior. After all, he often preached that "art came from cool emotion." Having someone a bit more tolerable in the proximity was enough to keep from bristling into a raging tantrum of self-pity. Maybe he could actually find a good mood by the end of the day so that he could enjoy his Friday evening as he would have liked to. Spending his free time fixating on a student was a little weird, anyway. Sai didn't deserve so much of his attention. Unfortunately, it seemed that Kisame was more aware of all the gossip than he'd first suspected. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, as though to think nothing of it. "I didn't take you for one to believe their side of the story. If you've heard what they might have been muttering about, then you'll agree that it's all fucking stupid." Deidara was a man who liked to keep his pride intact, thank you very much.

At least dumb luck favored him today where sports were concerned. He wasn't much of an athlete at all, but he wasn't a complete wuss, either. Keeping active allowed for his creativity to flow freely through his limbs... Otherwise, he'd just get fat and lazy and he absolutely refused to let that happen. Still, sports were hardly his forte. Kisame was quick to point this out, simply mentioning the disadvantage his height would have on him. To this, Deidara scoffed. "You're just freakishly tall." But he smirked in good humor, even gauging his height with his hands and rolling his eyes. "But if this was soccer, it'd be a different story. Probably." Not that he was proposing such a challenge. He was far too indifferent on the matter of athletics to get competitive over something so silly. Much as he didn't like having his height mocked (seeing as some of the students were even taller than he was), he felt smug enough with scoring that shot to let it bother him. Besides, Kisame's dry humor was amusing.

He decided it would be best to put the ball back now before he forgot about it and the gym teachers hunted him down for disorganizing their precious "work" space. Listening to Kisame, he walked over to where it had bounced and bent to scoop it up in his hands. The blond snorted when the detention slips were mentioned and returned to his side with the basketball tucked under his arm. He, too, had signed a few slips that day (Sai's being the most satisfactory to write up, odd as that may have sounded in his head). Whoever was supervising detention that afternoon was going to have quite the zoo to handle. Oh well. It wasn't his problem. He actually smirked when told that the students had been loud due to their noisy rumor-spreading, deciding that he was somewhat proud that he'd been the cause of more discomfort for these bratty teens. "Thanks to me, huh? Tch, of course it's their fault. I didn't put them up to it." He moved to place the basketball back on the rack he'd taken it from, glancing over his shoulder at the tall teacher with a smirk. "Though, if I had, it'd just be to get back at you for all the times they've come to my class groaning about all your assignments instead of focusing on their artwork. Now we're even, un."

Chuckling quietly, he listened further to what he had to say and shook his head in refusal when offered a cigarette. He'd smoked a little when in university, but it hadn't really appealed to his interests. Mostly, it'd just been for the sake of the fad. See, Deidara wasn't fond of dying of lung cancer... It just sounded like such a boring way to go. After wordlessly declining the offer, he followed after him toward the back door. A little fresh air sounded nice, now that he'd managed to soothe his temper a little. "Maybe I should just sneak you a key to the art room. It's not as though anyone pays much attention to the spares, anyway. It'd beat having to sneak through here, am I right?" Deidara was well aware of one of the eccentric gym teachers. Not only that, but he was aware of Kisame's odd... interactions with him. Perhaps he could be a merciful comrade and lend him a little aid in the matter. Oh, yes. Deidara was such a kind-hearted soul.

Upon heading outside, he just rolled his shoulders and exhaled slowly. "We're not even a month into the school year and I'm already sick of these kids." He had to remind himself that he was still new to all this. He wasn't a seasoned professor or even someone with a fresh teaching degree on their wall. He was a TA hired out of the school's special request. Desperation is what he'd like to call it, seeing as the art department was, in his opinion, terribly neglected. Whatever the case, he was not accustomed to all of this just yet. It'd take some time, he supposed. Annoying, tedious, frustrating time.

[Juicy !]

Kisame could all sense that this was not Deidara's favorite topic. In fact, it may have tweaked him a little. Though, kudos to the man, for he held a very cool exterior (most of the time, it seemed). The blond seemed a bit irritated on the rumors, however, who wouldn't be? Kisame's first year starting here, about a year in a half back, there were rumors amongst the freshman that he ate children, or had a bad traumatic accident which was why he looked like this. A bunch of false statements, however, not any of them got to the point that Deidara's has. It is how you tell the truth from facts. Majority, meaning most of the class if not all, would be talking about the same topic, with minor variations. It was quite annoying, but it seemed Kisame's headache had only dulled down to a low hum, instead of the pulsing victory it reigned over his head. The small uprising of his lips made it a bit more obvious that he was enjoying seeing Deidara a bit flustered; unveiled -if only just a fragment- from his usually ultimately cool exterior. ”Stupid? Yeah, but you can't beat 'em, might as well start throwing ideas out there for them till they get sick of it,” What was that saying? If you couldn't beat them, join 'em. Now, it wasn't true for most cases, however, teenagers were all but too easy to give them something else, or wear-out their attention to one subject. Which is what made a teacher's job quite entertaining, if not with a maximum amount of annoyance.

His smaller eyes trailed to where Deidara walked to pick up the basketball, adding to the comment about sports, as well as stating the obvious. Kisame was freakishly tall. For a Japanese man, yes, yes he was incredibly tall. Though no matter what he had always been that way. Every class photo he was in the very back, as was still utterly and completely easy to pick out of the crowd. Even when he did have tattoos on his face, or sharpened teeth, that is. Grinning slightly, he nodded, allowing his hand to follow his height to the other's in comparison, ”A bit obvious of an observation, blondie. I stick out like a sore thumb almost everywhere in Japan,” All in good humor, that is. Though Kisame did have to completely agree with Deidara's statement. He was not athletic unless it came to Jujitsu, and it usually never did. ”Probably would, actually, soccer isn't exactly my forte.” Yes, he could leave out that most sports involving balls or anything of the sort were not his forte. He had his rights. Just like he had the rights to kick out any student he very well pleased.

Looking back to Deidara as he hung up the ball back where it belonged, it only took a few of his words to make him stiff out a small laugh, knowing full well it was the kid's own fault for almost everything the teachers had to put up with. I give full class periods for them to do the weekly packets, which are easy, and I give out projects once a semester, so blame them for not doing their work,” A small smile appeared oncemore on his face, before he continued,”Though you may have a few projects to be done from me in your class, since the few I kicked out today aren't going to be ready with their stuff to work on the projects,” Hey, it wasn't his fault they didn't listen. Kisame wasn't a harsh teacher, either. When the class was doing their work he'd put on music, or even just let them talk if he didn't feel like doing anything. The only time to watch out for him was if someone, in particular, pissed him off; he'd be going after you the rest of the year. He's pretty patient, and if you tick the man off one too many times, well, you should see what comes. It's not the prettiest thing, more like the kid would get called out the most, and made fun of the most in the class (like the jocks who surround themselves with sports and nothing else).

The taller man took the other to possibly be an 'artistic smoker', however, he soon found out that was not true. As Deidara declined his offer, Kisame put the leftover back in his pack, and walked towards the door to the outside, opening it and kicking it back so it would stay open, if only for a few seconds, for the other. It didn't take long from being outside that Kisame lit up, allowing the smooth smoke to fill his lungs, sure not to blow it directly in the other's face. At the mention of a spare key, a few seconds before he had actually gotten outside, Kisame had to lighten a smile up as well as his mood, ”Spare key would be useful, especially since it beats sneaking past the gym teachers here, and the kids who tend to ditch and end up hoping they can score a smoke off me,” God, he really did hate the gym. It smelled of kid's sweat, feet, and rubber. Those three were not such a good combination, and it certainly was worse than the smell of clay or paint that would waft if he were wandering through the art room. Honestly, Deidara had to be one of the teachers (though he wasn't yet, technically), that he could stand. The man wasn't rude, didn't patronize him, and certainly put out his own type of banter to diffuse his own. An actual intellectual being, even if the passion lied in one field, and was actually pleasant to be around. A hell of an escape from students.

Though Kisame was honestly surprised that the other was not a teacher of his own. Certainly, it seemed Deidara was at least qualified, if not overly-qualified, for the job. He seemed at least more passionate about his subject that Kisame was his own (though what passion truly lied in teaching biology?). Though, the man was not yet fully committed, which was probably a better move on the blond's part, because he could change, or nearly become a full-time here. ”It get's better; You learn how to deal with them. This is my nearly second year teaching here, and I think I learned fine. Then again, you can technically leave teaching for the rest of your life if you wanted,” It was true that Kisame was, unless he wanted to go back to school, stuck in his profession. Hell, the man ended up spending an extra year or two in collage because he couldn't decide what he actually wanted to do, and somehow the wheel of fortune landed him in teaching. Funny how that worked. Amazing e was even able to get a teaching job. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he exhaled slowly, talking through it, ”How in the hell did you get sucked into teaching anyway... You don't strike me as the type who would volunteer himself to deal with this shit,” Normally, the man would stay away from asking personal questions, however, he was curious. Deidara did seem as if he'd rather murder the kids then teach them.. then again, who could blam him?

[→ victoria]

The artist had never been fond of following the ideas of others. Upon hearing Kisame's advice, he just rolled his eyes and scoffed softly. Can't beat 'em, join 'em? No, no. Deidara was not going to let himself sink down to such a desperate option over something so stupid. Really, now. How pathetic. "Amusing as that'd be, I'll pass. They come up with the weirdest shit all on their own." And, despite the man's scowl, there was a sliver of amusement in the tone he'd used. In a way, he was building himself a rather memorable reputation and he hadn't even been a teacher's aid for a month. That took skill, right? Oh, yes. That took talent. Clearly, though, he would have preferred it if the rumors varied away from all the bullshit that had spread like a deadly epidemic throughout the hallways. Being called a pervert, a pedophile, and a transvestite didn't really appeal too much to Deidara's immediate interests. Made it sound as though the circus was in town, to be frank.

"Tch," he breathed, unimpressed with the height comparison. He even reached out to knock his hand away as though to hide further evidence of his own short stance. "Don't call me blondie, sharkman." He blew a huff of air in mild vexation, as though to shift his long bangs from his face. This, as always, did nothing more than cause the flaxen fringe to sway and return back to cover his ever-elusive left eye. His disgruntled frown curled back into one of those usual smirks of his, though, as he propped his hands on his slender hips and laughed softly. To be honest, exchanging banter with Kisame was actually enjoyable. His ego may have disliked being poked and prodded, but it all seemed in good humor when with this tall, intimidating figure of a man. It was a welcome break to the aggravating exchanges he'd had with students all day. Even the majority of the faculty was a pain to deal with. He was just a teaching assistant, after all; the greenhorn trying to fumble his way through the environment his elders had already adapted to. They just laughed at him and, well, he'd never taken too kindly to being mocked. Kisame seemed to take him seriously, though. More so than some of the others, anyway. It didn't matter much. He was usually welcome company and that's all Deidara cared for at the moment when his pride was sore and his ego tender with a little careless bruising. "Sports isn't my thing. So boring, if you ask me." And with a wave of his hand, the subject was brought to a close. He felt he'd won back some of his masculinity at some point, in any case.

Vaguely, Deidara wondered what sort of classes the kids actually preferred at the school. Were his in any of their favorites? Not that he cared or anything. It wasn't his fault if they found his techniques too intense for their bland, sightless minds. Still, he couldn't help but be curious... Did they like Kisame's classes more than the ones he'd taken under his wing? Probably. Deidara had occasionally wandered by the taller teacher's room, sometimes to hear music and casual conversation. His own classes were rarely so relaxed. More often than not, he'd find himself with a headache after teaching through a day of frustrating, idiot students. Sai's class was particularly troublesome, but he wasn't going to think about that right now. The blond did have a few moments when he could simply go about his business in the calm, cool behavior that he liked to think was typical... but that seemed rare these days. Surely, this needed to be remedied. "Oh, good. More kids failing to pay attention. Just what I always wanted." The artist just rolled his shoulders, trying not to seem too ruffled. "If they don't get it done after all that, you better be handing out more detentions. Brats won't learn otherwise, you know. Hn." He grunted, figuring his reasoning to be quite fair. He honestly didn't care if the various haughty teens of the school grew to dislike him. An artist is always eager to hear his name murmured back and forth, regardless of the tone that may be spinning it.

Now outdoors, he leaned against the wall of the building and crossed his arms over his chest. The open air was welcome to the man, who tilted his head back a little and inhaled it with eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Ah... So nice to get out of those stuffy halls. He could smell the smoke from Kisame's cigarette and wrinkled his nose a little, but didn't seem unwelcome toward it. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the scent, his smirk broadening along his mouth and settling there in a sense of relaxation. Deidara opened one of his eyes slowly -- the visible right one, of course -- to regard the smoking Biology teacher with a much more calm, casual demeanor swathed around his person. A quiet purr of laughter vibrated through the artist's chest as he shrugged his shoulders lightly and glanced off ahead of himself instead. "I'll grab one for you, then. It's not like they're being put to any other use. If anyone asks where you got it, just say you found it on the floor or something." Oh, yes. Deidara was clearly a role model for young adults everywhere; the absolute image of a responsible figure of authority. "You can thank me later somehow. I'll leave that up to you, hm?" He glanced to him again with a lazy turn of his slanted eye, smirking. It was an ambiguous remark, of course. He didn't care if his "kindness" was ever repaid. Suggesting otherwise was just fun to say.

He kicked idly at the ground with the toe of his shoe. The tension of the day was loosening from his muscles, but he still felt the crave for more to take his mind off the rumors and the brats who wove them through the grapevine with their giddy little grins and giggles. Briefly, he felt the temptation to ask Kisame if he was free this weekend. Or even this evening, for that matter. Heading out into town and hitting a bar sounded pretty damn appealing right now. Sure, he could do so on his own, but it was always more amusing when there were others to laugh with as the night shifted into dark, early hours of the morning. Nah... Kisame probably had others things to do. Besides, Deidara didn't want to come off as a desperate little brat eager and grabbing for attention. His attention shifted back to the discussion at hand, eyes casually wandering upward at the sky. "Trust me, I don't plan on teaching for too long. I've got other things to do with my life." He laughed, thinking of his utmost passions and how he planned to dedicate his life to the artwork he'd been mocked for.

Deidara prepared to explain further, but it seemed that Kisame already had a question in mind that would help with the elaborating he'd already planned on. He sniffed at the smoke in the air again before reaching up to idly tug at the tie that kept some of his pale hair up. His smirk, of course, was still casually playing across his lips. "The school asked me to help out with the art department when I graduated from university. I needed the money, so here I am." Another languid shrug shifted the blond man's shoulders as he casually recalled it all. "It's just something to do while I figure out where to go next." Deidara cocked his head a little, as though amused with his own words, before looking at Kisame with new curiosity. "What about you, huh? No offense, but you don't exactly come off as the typical teacher-man." Really, he was beginning to wonder what had actually motivated someone like Kisame to spend his time lecturing kids on cells and osmosis and all that biological mumbo jumbo. "Nothing better to do, un?"

---

ooc; I'm sorry for the wait. D: I'll try to be better, fffs.

[Juicy !]

The cigarette the tall man had in his hands was the savior from a long day of students talking out of hand, getting too excited about the far-off rumors that had been started, and the staff who couldn't even shut their mouths for five seconds. Each new drag he passed through his thin lips felt like a little bit of heaven, as well as every smoker happiest moment of the day, the first morning cigarette. The buzz was stronger than usual, and though the smoke was easy to wrench into his lungs and push out, even the cigarette itself seemed to be lasting longer. That, of course, was because he was having a healthy conversation with another coworker. It was undeniable that didn't happen often, however, it was usually for good reasons. Mostly because the teachers who came back to the hell they had in high school, never hit that growing-up phase. He may have, but that was hidden and mixed in with his true desire of finding peace with this place and the people in it (it didn't happen too often). Though, Deidara, he would have to admit, seemed to still be a kid as well. He had a dream, something to accomplish, and the blond man seemed to have just the stubborn passion to get that dream accomplished. It was quite a wonder as to if anyone who worked here was truly grown up, or if everyone was just as big of a crack-pot as these kids.

Though that was exactly what made him want to get the hell out of the classroom. Truthfully, he did run a very relaxed class. He would play music, his choices as the teenagers tastes of good music hadn't quite developed yet, and let them do their work. Sure, he lectured once or twice a week, but it wasn't that hard to fake paying attention. The rest of class time was available to do the work he had assigned. Not hard, just lengthy. Everything you'd need to have for the test would be in the packet, and maybe a few questions from the lectures. Apparently, though, it was too difficult for them. In Kisame's opinion, if they were truly that lazy, then they deserved an F. It was the simple fact of life. Get your work done, you might as well be handed a gold star. Put it off or don't turn it in under fair circumstances, well, that sucks for you. The kids already knew this, too. Today was just a huge mistake for most of them. And god damn he hated raising his voice to talk over them. He didn't yell. His voice was already a deep threatening, to certain company, voice, and raising it doesn't help. Hell, he wasn't the angry fe-fi-fo-fum type. Allowing his sharky smirk to weave onto his face, he laughed lightly, ”Detentions? Doesn't work that way in my class; they can just get an F. Hell, if they fail the class then they can make it up again next year; by then they should've learned their lesson,” Though he didn't forget his manners, not yet anyway, ”Thanks, though.. and I'll be sure to tell them I found it.. that's a valid excuse.” No one ever said the man didn't dabble in sarcasm.

This is the reason, after being pent up in that room for so long, that the art room was such an escape. Mostly the out-doors of the art-room. No one complained. No one said anything. Most people wouldn't. Just look at the guy, he does look like a shark. It wasn't even necessarily the kids that made him want to get out hos classroom either, it was the basic principle that he didn't want to be in there after he taught for six hours, or five, a day. It got tiring, boring, and the stale walls were even more monotonous than the ones in his flat. Which is why a nice, generally short, walk down the hall and through an art class had it's best moments. Though the suggestion at 'repaying' the blond made his honestly let out a laugh. ”How about I repay you by feeding my kids to your class? I'm sure then they may do something productive.” Letting a toothy smirk smear onto his face, the man leaned back further against the wall. Letting his whole body weight just relax completely against the wall, Kisame kicked his shoe against it as well, allowing a bit more stability for the moment. He took another drag in, exhaling slowly as he felt the wave of Deidara's mood change. It wasn't necessarily a wave, however, with a look through Kisame's small eyes, there was a complete change in stance from the previous few minutes. It was a very cool transition, however, from the uptight stress, to the relaxant stance he held.

It still surprised Kisame that Deidara was hired to be a teacher. Or teacher's aid. Whatever the hell was the difference beat him, since every time he was in there he normally saw the blond yelling at the students, or something along the lines of that. His classes seemed a lot different from his own, though. Kids had more... freedom? Yes, freedom. Freedom, and whatever supplies they could get their hands on to make some sort of mess or find some way to abuse it. It wasn't exactly Kisame's strong point, hell, he had never taken an art class since about elementary school. He wasn't exactly the creative type in the first place, which also made him a bit rendered in actually figuring out how you would teach an art class. Either way, it seemed a bit more complex than getting into photosynthesis, organs, cells, osmosis, and everything else he covered in the class. He had a bit of structure to it. To each his own, though, and onto more. As the one-eyed (as far as anyone could see), blond talked of how he wanted to accomplish other things with his life, Kisame was a bit more happy with that answer than he would be his own. ”A starving artist needs his pay, right?” Kisame's voice had a cooler, smoother tone, as if he understood where he was coming from. It wasn't necessarily true, but all his old friends in high school were poor as dirt, and managed to get by.

The part about Diedara being asked to help, however, only confirmed his own idea that Deidara was a bit more qualified for the job than he had to be. It wasn't a bad thing, no, but that did mean the other had either talent, a good education to back him up, or both. Either was the same if you worked hard enough at it. Kisame stifled a small laugh as the other explained this was a temporary thing. Hell, it would be, it would be, if he didn't wait too long. The taller spent his life, up until high school, chasing after some imaginary dream of being a business man, before he realized what a crock of shit it was. Instead of learning what he was good at, Kisame had about eight in a half years (if you count fucking around in high school) to figure out something, and never came to a conclusion. At least Deidara has a plan. ”As long as you don't wait too long; you don't want to be stuck in this place teaching your brats.” Grinning, the man took another drag of his cigarette before putting it out beneath his shoe, finally taking a bit of the fresh, fresh air.

Of course the question was returned, it was only common courtesy. Though Kisame didn't really like too elaborate stories of himself, therefore, he searched for a few words before continuing to speak, ”Though I wanted to be in business, gave up on that before high school, fucked around my high school career and I couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted to do. Settled for teachers degree about my 6th year of collage,” Smiling, he nodded once to the comment Deidara made that ran though his mind, ”So, yeah, you're right. I didn't really have anything better to do.” Shrugging, a grin appeared on his face as he finally got off his post from the door. Wiping off the shirt and his jeans, he looked back over to the blond pony-tailed man, ”And how about I repay your key with a few drinks? I could go for one, myself, if you feel the need to have a few.” Kisame pushed one hand in his pocket as he reached the other to push the door back open to get inside, ”Unless you're busy with your art, that is.” It was another small joke, surprise, surprise. Truth be told, sake, a beer or two, or just a jack and coke sounded plenty appealing after today.