Can't Keep Suffering

“Ow! You’re pulling too hard!”

“Calm down,” Hetalia said bluntly, ignoring the teen’s cries. “I’m not hurting you that badly.”

“Yeah you are!” Pamplemousse complained. “Have you even done someone’s hair before?”

The Russian rolled her eyes as she continued to pull her brush through Pamplemousse’s hair. “Of course I have,” she said matter of factly. “Don’t be such a baby.”

The fourteen year old crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted. “Why do I have to have nice hair anyway? It’s just a stupid school.”

“According to Tony, it’s not just just a school. It’s one of the best prep schools in the world. Plus, it’s monitored by SHIELD.”

“Oh,” she replied. “I guess I understand. But I still think it’s dumb that I need to dress all fancy. Shouldn’t they just be content with the fact that my dad is the fucking Hulk?”

“Pamplemousse!” Hetalia exclaimed, slamming her hands on hardwood floor, causing the plastic brush in her hand to clatter loudly. “Watch your language. It’s not sophisticated to swear like that.”

“Why not?” the teen demanded, spinning around to face Hetalia. “You guys do it all the time!”

“Because we are adults,” Hetalia responded. “I know it’s silly, but you’ll understand when you’re older.”

Pamplemousse rolled her eyes and faced forward. “Whatever,” she muttered. “I understand more than you think I do.”

Hetalia sighed. “I know, moy dorogoy. But your father wouldn’t be happy if I started letting you get away with swearing.”

The two sat in silence before a small smile crept up on Pamplemousse’s face. “He wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t know.”

Hetalia started to laugh. “This is true. Okay, fine, you can swear around me, but if anyone else is around, you do not say a word, understand?”

“Da,” the teen replied in Russian, smiling ear to ear.

****

“Jasmine and Dr. Banner?” the black-haired secretary asked over the dull roar of students clamoring. “The Headmaster will see you now.”

Pamplemousse and Bruce stood. Bruce was wearing his glasses and a green button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked into a pair of khakis. Pamplemousse cleared her throat and wiped her sweaty palms on her tan skirt, trying to avoid getting stains on her off-white sweater.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have worn that headband,” Bruce said, gesturing to the black headband with an oversized bow in his daughter’s hair.

“Hetalia suggested it,” she replied. “After all, you did put her in charge of helping me with all of this,” she added, quickly gesturing to herself.

The two of them walked into the office, and Pamplemousse was immediately surprised. The room smelt of freshly burnt incense and the sound of trickling fountains filled the spacious room. There were plants, some with flowers and others without, lining the many windowsills and the large mahogany desk.

Sitting behind said desk was a young woman with bright blonde hair accented with a beaded headband. The woman smiled and stood, revealing her boring black skirt suit.

“You must be Dr. Banner,” she said happily, extending a hand towards him. “My name is Lydia Davenport. I’m the Headmaster here.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Bruce replied, accepting the handshake.

Lydia Davenport’s gaze shifted to Pamplemousse. “And you must be Jasmine Banner.”

The teen nodded. “It’s nice to meet you,” she replied, extending her own hand.

Lydia was a little shocked, but put her hand in the teen’s. “Well, aren’t you polite! In all my years here, I’ve never had a prospective student offer a handshake.”

Pamplemousse blushed a little, feeling like she had made a mistake.

“Please, sit down.”

Bruce cleared his throat and sat closest to the window.

“So, what kind of questions do you have about our school?”

“Well, are biggest concern is where Jasmine will be starting off. After all, she has been homeschooled for the past couple of years.”

“Of course, I can see your concern,” Lydia responded, folding her hands on her desk. “What we would do upon her acceptance would be to give her a simple test to determine what she knows and what she doesn’t. We do this for all of the incoming students to better estimate what kind of education they will need.”

“What’s your art program like?” Pamplemousse asked.

“We have a very extensive art program. One of the best in the country. We make sure you, as a student, get a very well-rounded education.”

“So I’m assuming your science program is just as extensive?”

Lydia chuckled at the teen’s response. “Of course it is. I’m assuming those are your two favorites?”

“It’s all I can teach her some days,” Bruce replied with a smile. “There are days where she doesn’t even want to get out of bed until I mention either of the two.”

“Well that’s wonderful!” the Headmaster exclaimed. “Here, let me give you a tour of the campus. That’ll describe the school better than I ever could.

Lydia stood, and the Banners followed her out of her office.

“Gina,” she started, pausing at the secretary’s desk. “If Mr. Kingsley stops by, letting him know I’m giving a tour and I’ll be back to discuss the budget with him after twelve.”

“This is the third time you’ve moved his appointment, Lydia,” Gina warned. “You know how he gets.”

“He’ll understand. Tell him I’ll explain more today when we meet.”

“Will do, Mrs. Davenport.”

Lydia led the two Banners out into the hallway. “Mr. Kingsley is one of the history teachers here. He and I have been meaning to meet and discuss a new budget for his class for almost a month.”

“Is it usually that chaotic around here?” Bruce asked.

“Not typically,” she admitted. “But Jasmine is the fourth prospective student in two weeks. Anyway! This,” she added, placing her hand on the handle to one of the doors in the hall. “Is our auditorium. I’m not sure if you’re interested at all, but we do have a wide variety of drama and theatre classes.”

Mrs. Davenport opened the door and walked into the large, echoing space. There were a handful of people on the stage, all shoeless, doing what looked like yoga with scripts.

Suddenly, a man came jogging over towards the group of three. “Mrs. Davenport!” the man exclaimed happily. “I’m glad you stopped by! Is this one of our new students?”

“Just a prospective one, John,” she replied with a smile. “Jasmine, this is John Gustavson, our theatre director and the executive drama instructor.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the teen replied timidly, realizing that all the students on stage were now staring.

Mr. Gustavson noticed her distress and glanced back at the students, then turned his attention back to the teen. “Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about them. They’re like puppies most days; curious about people and things they don’t know and downright ridiculous when it comes to everyday tasks.” Then, without even looking at the students, he held up a hand and shouted across the auditorium. “As you were, peasants!”

The students sniggered and went back to their yoga.

“Alright, I gotta get back,” Mr. Gustavson said, quickly shaking Bruce’s hand and patting Pamplemousse’s back. “It was great to meet both of you and I hope you enjoy our school!”

As the drama teacher jogged back down the aisle, Lydia turned and smiled at the Banners. “Shall we continue the tour?”

“Do let’s,” Bruce said, taking one last look at the auditorium.

The trio continued down the halls past groups of students and rows of lockers.

“We have lockers for every student, even though we have the dorms.”

“Dorms?” Pamplemousse asked, quickly moving to the front of the pack and keeping pace with the Headmaster.

“Yes, dorms,” she repeated. “With this type of school, we require students to live on campus. Oh, here’s one of the chemistry labs.”

Before Pamplemousse could put up any kind of protest, her breath was taken away. The lab was just like Tony’s, although it was significantly smaller and had a little less tech. But there were computer stations set up, beakers full of different coloured liquids, fume chambers along the walls, and an assortment of other science equipment.

“Wow,” Bruce said, nodding in approval. “This is incredible! Where do you guys get the funding for this?”

Mrs. Davenport laughed. “You don’t think we charged tuition just for fun, did you?”

The tour continued on like that for another half hour; Mrs. Davenport would show the two Banners to another department of the school and explained the history of the building and of the school as a whole.

“So,” she started at the end of the tour. “What do you guys think?”

Bruce and Pamplemousse shared a look. “I think I like it,” the teen admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “Even with the whole living-on-campus thing.”

****

“Hold her!”

Livia felt a fist come in contact with her nose, but she didn’t see if it was the heavy-set blonde man or the tall woman with black and blue hair and three rings in her eyebrow.

As she hung her head to let the blood drip down her face, a set of hands picked her up by her upper arms.

“Brutus,” the girl with the piercings said, shaking her head. “You know what the boss said. No harm is to come to the agents.”

The blonde man turned, examining his now bloody knuckles. “That’s not what she told me. I was told to use whatever force necessary to get them to cooperate, including some killings.”

“Yes, Brutus,” she replied sourly, grabbing his bowie knife out of his good hand. “But we can’t kill the bait! Don’t be stupid!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Iz. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“Mama?”

Everyone quickly spun and looked at the tiny girl standing in the doorway, holding a pistol that was too big for her hands.

“Sabina!” Livia exclaimed. “Baby, run! Go!”

“Fuck, get her! Don’t let her get away!”

The little girl ran, ducking into one of the air ducts.

“Shit, Brutus, she went into the fucking vents!” Iz shouted. “You and Sean double back and head outside to cut her off! Matthis, you, Kirk, and June stay with the agent! Don’t let her get anywhere near a weapon! And if you guys catch the girl, don’t you dare fucking kill her! Boss told us not to kill any kids!!”

Iz jumped into the vents and followed Sabina.

“Fucking stop, kid!” she shouted.

Sabina kicked open the vent cover and jumped out into the bushes.

“There you are, ya little brat!” Brutus shouted as he picked up the girl by her hair. “And where do you think you’re going?”

The little girl screamed in pain, trying to claw at the oversized man’s hands. “Let me go!! Let me go!”

Iz jumped out of the vents, pulling out her gun. “Brutus! Put her down!”

“I’m gonna teach this bitch a lesson,” he said, taking Sean’s gun and pointing it at the young girl.

Iz pointed her gun at Brutus. “You know you can’t do that. The boss said-”

“No!” the blonde man shouted. “Your boss said that! I was told that I could do whatever I needed. Including killing kids.”

Iz was done debating. She pulled the trigger and shot Brutus in the leg. He screamed in pain and dropped Sabina, who promptly ran into the Romanian woods and out of sight.