Word count: 3329

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, they had the pleasure of starting the day off with partnered training.

Training rooms were quite spacious and empty so that they'd have room to fight. Each pair got their own room so that they wouldn't accidentally hurt someone else in the process. The walls and ground were padded so that no one would get hurt if they were to be thrown to the side, although they would probably get hurt from the first impact.

In the corner of every training room, there was a small table that carried a few water bottles and a first-aid kit that was replaced every other week. It wasn't uncommon for small injuries to occur (especially with Diego and his knives).

Five smirked as he used his foot to—not so gently—kick the door close. "Ready to die?" 

Elizabeth replied with a careless shrug as she walked towards the middle of the room, "There's a zero-point-zero-zero-five percent chance that I'll die in this fight."

Five raised his eyebrows, now looking a little disgruntled. "And what's the chance that I'll die?"

She thought for a moment. "Nine percent."

"But . . . you're not going to kill me, right?"

"I'll try my best not to," she reassured him with a grin.

"Okay, let's start. Three—two—one—go!" he said all in one breath before spatial-jumping behind her and pushing her to the ground.

"Unfair," she groaned as she got onto her feet.

She dodged the punch he had thrown at her, and then roundhouse kicked him into the wall. He hit the cushiony wall before rubbing his arm and getting up, and he took the time to send her a glare. He teleported behind her and kicked her side, causing her to stumble and clutch at the area where a bruise would surely form. 

He was about to send another kick her way when she pushed her hand out in front of her and blasted him with energy, forcing him to fly back and hit the wall once more.

"Ugh," Five moaned as he got up. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Being good at this," he grumbled before teleporting in front of her and punching her square in the jaw.

Elizabeth wiped the small amount of blood that was slipping out of the split lip Five had just given her and kicked him backwards. Oh, what lovely times she got to spend with the boy she was dreaming of spending her life with. How romantic, kicking him around and all.

From the ground, Five kicked her behind the knees, causing her to fall forward. He really did make her weak in the knees.

He took her falling to his advantage and quickly got up, pushing her so that she fell onto her back. He rested his shoe on her throat, teasingly applying a little bit of pressure.

He raised his eyebrows as he quipped, "I think that your percentage might have gone up a little."

She glared at him. "I don't think so."

"Oh, you don't?" He grinned as he pressed his foot a little harder, his eyes teasing as they stared down into hers. "You sure about that?"

"Oh" —a cunning smile spread onto her face— "I'm sure."

Elizabeth pressed her hands against the ground and created a portal, which she soon fell through. A new portal opened up behind Five, and she came out of it, kicking his back so that he fell flat onto his face.

She then willed for her energy to take the form of a sword—a trick Reginald had taught her months before—and pointed it towards Five as he flopped onto his back. She placed the tip of the sword under his chin in the same playful manner he had with his foot and grinned.

"I think that your percentage might have gone up a little."

After training was over, the students quickly changed back into their school uniforms before heading to the dining table and began to eat the sandwiches Grace had made them after Reginald gave them permission to do so.

During the meal, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the lethal glare Five was giving to their father as he slowly chewed his food. She kicked his foot, drawing his attention from their dad to her, and gave him questioning eyebrows.

Five only shook his head, mouthing that he'd tell her later on.

But he didn't tell her anytime soon after that. Not during their first class, not during their second class, nor the third. Individual training was, well, individual, and, of course, they weren't allowed to talk during dinner, where he stared at his father with equal hatred as before.

As the students headed back upstairs for their studies, Elizabeth grabbed Five's wrist and pulled him into her room before he could go inside his.

"Hey!"

Elizabeth ignored his cry of protest as she sat down on the bed, tugging on his sleeve to silently tell him to do the same. "What's wrong?" 

He sat down with a sigh and then confessed in a mumble, "I'm just mad at Dad."

"What for?" 

Five was quiet for a moment as he chewed his lower lip. After about a minute of thinking, he finally told her, "He's not letting me time-travel."

"Seriously?" she exhaled in relief as she rubbed her eyes, shaking her head. "That's what you're mad about? I thought it was something bad!"

"It is something bad!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"I don't know, that he was going to send you away or make you do something you don't want to do!"

"I mean, it's the opposite!" Five protested with his hands raised in defence. "He's not letting me do something I do want to do!"

She scrunched her nose as she shook her head. "That's not as bad."

"But still! I don't get it! I've been practicing all my shit like a good boy, and he's still not letting me," Five insisted, ruffling his dark hair with one hand as he wrung the other one. "I've been asking since I was thirteen, and every time, he would say" —he put a mock accent on as he raised his voice up a few octaves— "'You are not old enough nor are you experienced enough, Number Five. Continue practicing your spatial jumps.' Do you know how long I've been practicing my fucking spatial jumps?"

Elizabeth sighed. "He must have his reasons for still not letting you do it."

"Whatever they are," he glowered, "they're stupid reasons."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sure they're good reasons."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyebrows slowly raising. "What, so you're on his side now?"

"No, I'm just saying that you should be logical," she tried to reason, resting a hand on his shoulder. "If Dad doesn't think you're ready, maybe you're not."

"I'm ready. I'm more than ready."

She gave another sigh, shutting her eyes for a moment before opening them. "So, what, did you ask him recently?"

He nodded. "I asked a few days ago when he was assessing my individual training shit. Same response as usual."

"Better luck next year?" she asked hopefully as she gave him a small smile. 

"No." He shook his head, his jaw clenching. "I'm going to prove it to him this year."

"How?" She furrowed her eyebrows before straightening up. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You're not going to do something stupid, are you?"

"No," Five replied innocently, "I'm just going to practice my jumps more, show him how well I can do it, and then threaten him."

"Oh, come on." She rolled her eyes with a scoff. "You're going to threaten Dad? Remember when Dad found out Allison was rumouring him? The hell he raised about that? I doubt anything you do would work well."

"It would!" 

She sighed, shaking her head slightly as she conceded, "All right, Five."

"You're not a very supportive friend," Five remarked as he frowned.

"I'm an extremely supportive friend—when you make good decisions." Elizabeth shifted closer to him, feeling the heat of his body begin to radiate onto hers. She began to rub the tattoo on her left forearm with the thumb on the opposite hand as she inquired, "Why do you even want to time travel anyway? Don't you like it here? You'd be leaving everyone behind. You'd be . . . You'd be leaving me behind."

"I wouldn't go forever. Just for, like, a couple of days probably," he reassured her, grabbing her hand and removing it from pressuring her forearm. "It'd be interesting—I mean, why shouldn't I use the full extent of my powers?"

"Theoretically, I can time-travel, too, but I'm not pressing Dad about it," she pointed out while tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "It's too dangerous."

"How is it dangerous?"

She sighed, her lips settling into a frown before she began, "You can get stuck in the future or past, you could mess up the timeline if you go to the past, you could probably die . . ."

"Okay, okay, I get it." He raised his hands in defence, giving a small shrug. "But it won't happen to me if I get to time-travel."

Elizabeth gave him a look of disbelief as she queried, "How do you know?"

Five's light eyes gazed into her dark ones. Butterflies immediately were sent into her stomach as he shifted closer to her so that there was now no space in between them as he softly asked, "Elle, do you trust me?"

Without a moment of hesitation, she replied, "I do."

He gave her a smile. "Then don't worry about it."

—☾—

"The assassination of John F. Kennedy," Pogo declared once everyone had settled into their desks. "I am sure everyone is familiar with the idea?"

Everyone nodded.

"Excellent." He turned to the board and began to read out, "John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the thirty-fifth president of the United States, was assassinated while travelling through Dallas, Texas. First lady Jacqueline Kennedy was beside him, along with Texas Governor John Connally and his wife, for a ten-mile motorcade down the streets of downtown Dallas on November 22nd.

"However, as their vehicle passed the Texas School Book Depository Building at 12:30 PM, Lee Harvey Oswald allegedly fired three shots from the sixth floor, fatally wounding President Kennedy and seriously injuring Governor Connally. Kennedy was pronounced dead thirty minutes later at Dallas' Parkland Hospital. He was forty-six. 

"The Vice President, Lyndon Johnson who was three cars behind President Kennedy in the motorcade, was sworn in as the thirty-six president of the United States at 2:39 PM. Seven minutes later, the presidential jet took off for Washington. Any questions so far?"

When there was no response, he continued, "Now, let's talk about the suspected killer. Lee Harvey Oswald, born in New Orleans in 1939, joined the US Marines in 1956. He was discharged in 1959 and nine days later left for the Soviet Union, where he tried unsuccessfully to become a citizen. In 1962, he was allowed to return to the United States with his wife and infant daughter. On April 10th, 1963 in Dallas, he allegedly shot at and missed former US Army general Edwin Walker.

"In September 1963, he went to Mexico City but returned to Dallas in October and took a job at the Texas School Book Depository Building. Less than an hour after Kennedy was shot, Oswald killed a policeman who questioned him on the street near his rooming house in Dallas. Thirty minutes later, Oswald was arrested in a movie theatre by police responding to reports of a suspect. He was formally arraigned on November 23rd for the murders of President Kennedy and Officer JD Tippit."

Vanya raised her hand and asked her question after Pogo called on her. "What does 'arraigned' mean?"

"Good question." Pogo smiled. "An arraignment is a formal reading of a criminal charging document in the presence of the defendant, to inform him of the charges against them. In response to arraignment, the accused is expected to enter their plea. Understand?"

Vanya nodded.

Pogo continued with the lesson, "On November 24th, Oswald was brought to the basement of the Dallas police headquarters on his way to a securer county jail. As Oswald came into the room, Jack Ruby emerged from the crowd and fatally wounded him with a single shot. Ruby, who was immediately detained, claimed that rage at Kennedy's murder was the motive for his action. Some called him a hero, but he was nonetheless charged with first-degree murder."

Luther raised his hand. "Who's Jack Ruby?"

"That brings me to my next point." Pogo nodded as he adjusted his glasses. "Who is Jack Ruby? He was originally known as Jacob Rubenstein, who operated strip joints and dance halls in Dallas and had minor connections to organized crime. In his trial, Ruby denied the accusation and pleaded innocent on the grounds that his great sorrow over Kennedy's murder had caused him to suffer 'psychomotor epilepsy' and shoot Oswald unconsciously. The jury found Ruby guilty of 'murder with malice' and sentenced him to death. 

"However, in October 1966, the Texas Court of Appeals invalidated the decision on the grounds of improper disclosure of testimony and the fact that Ruby could not have received a fair trial in Dallas at the time. In January 1967, while anticipating a new trial, to be held in Wichita Falls, Ruby died of lung cancer in a Dallas hospital."

"What, that's it?" Allison questioned, her eyebrows high. She placed her hands on her desk and leaned forward. "He didn't go to jail or anything?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Wait, so was Ruby good or bad?" Ben asked, his eyebrows knit together tightly in confusion.

"He still did commit murder, even if it was of a criminal." Pogo gave a small smile. "But, the official Warren Commission report of 1964 resolved that neither Oswald nor Ruby were part of a larger conspiracy, either domestic or international, to assassinate President Kennedy. Despite its fixed determinations, the report was unable to silence conspiracy theories circling the event, and in 1978, the House Select Committee on Assassinations gathered in a preliminary report that Kennedy was 'probably assassinated as a result of a conspiracy' that may have included multiple shooters and organized crime."

Pogo waited for them to finish writing the notes that were written on the board—or at least the five students that were doing it. 

Five was staring straight ahead of him while chewing his lower lip, Diego was doodling something at the top of his otherwise blank page, and Klaus was straight-up asleep, softly snoring as his forehead rested on the back of his hands.

Pogo had an endearing smile as he looked at the three boys before turning to Elizabeth, who was poking Five with the end of her pencil in an attempt to get him out of his trance. "Miss Elizabeth, do you mind . . . ?"

This wasn't the first time that this had happened, and she was more than happy to follow through on his wishes.

Elizabeth raised her left hand and quickly shot out a small blast of energy towards each of the three, the blasts set to the lowest intensity. The three let out a yelp simultaneously, Klaus's head shooting straight up as the tingles rushed through his body.

The rest of the students were giggling at the sight.

"Jesus, Queen Elizabeth, just shake me next time," Klaus moaned as he rubbed his eyes.

"How about you just don't fall asleep in class?" Elizabeth suggested with a smile.

"But it's so boring. Blah, blah, president, murder, more murder, blah, blah," Five complained as he grabbed his pencil. 

"Well, that is quite unfortunate, Master Five." Pogo gave them a wary smile before turning and erasing everything he had written on the board. He looked back at the group once the board was rid of any information. "You all will have a test tomorrow—on everything I had taught today."

"What?!" Five, Diego, and Klaus exclaimed in unison.

Pogo only gave them a nod in response before waving a hand and telling them, "Class dismissed."

Elizabeth stacked her notebook on top of her textbook as the others did the same. The schedule had been changed that day, and this class had been after dinner, so it was nearing 8:30 PM.

"Miss Elizabeth," Pogo called before she could leave, "may I speak with you for a moment before you go?"

"Sure!" She smiled as she walked over to him at the front of the classroom.

"Now, I wasn't exactly . . . planning to have a test tomorrow," Pogo started, a small smile on his face, "and I am afraid I will not be able to create one tonight nor tomorrow morning, your father requires me for something. Would it be all right with you to design the test?"

"Yeah, that's fine!" Elizabeth nodded. "I assume I wouldn't write the test, then?"

"Oh, Miss Elizabeth, I already know you have already memorized and understood everything anyway," Pogo chuckled. "However, I do ask you to do one thing when you write these tests . . ."

After Pogo finished his conversation with Elizabeth, she began to make her way through the halls. Suddenly, three boys began to follow her, seeming to have been waiting for her to make an appearance.

"You're making the test?" Klaus questioned as soon as she noticed them. It appeared as though they had listened in to the conversation.

"Psh. No," she lied, although not particularly well. "That's stupid. Me? Make the test? I'm a student, why would I make it?"

"You're so bad at lying," Five commented, shaking his head as she gave a small sigh. "But you'll help us study because you love us, right?"

"Yeah, Goldie, you'll help us with the test, right?" Diego chuckled nervously as they followed her.

"I mean, you were paying attention and writing everything down, right?" Elizabeth asked innocently. "Do you really need my help?"

"Oh, come on, you know we weren't paying attention." Five rolled his eyes as he quickened his pace so that he was striding alongside her.

"Well, that's unfortunate." She gave them a tight smile as she began to walk even faster. "You should be paying attention in class, my friends."

"Exactly. We're your friends. And you want to help your friends out, don't you, Queen Elizabeth?" Klaus grinned, nodding quickly.

"It's time for our individual studies anyways, why don't you just teach us the lesson?" Diego suggested as they entered the house portion.

"I would love to, Eggo, seriously, but I need to make the test, and Vanya also wanted to study with me for Thursday's math quiz." Elizabeth gave them a sympathetic smile as they headed up the stairs.

The three boys looked at each other for a moment and then started asking questions rapid-fire.

"What day was he assassinated?"

"Who shot him?"

"Who shot the guy who shot him?"

"What does the F in JFK stand for?"

"What did the Warren Commission report say?"

"When did the shooter come back from the Soviet Union?"

"Boys." She stopped and turned around to face them as she sighed. "Please."

They ignored her and continued:

"Who was the president's wife?"

"What kind of gun was it?"

"What was the defence that the shooter's shooter used in trial?"

"Shut up and listen to me." She paused in front of her room and turned to them, her arms folded. "If you're able to come up with questions that actually pertain to the lesson, that means that you were actually somewhat listening. So, I'm sure if you think long and hard enough, you'll be able to come up with the answer."

"No, we won't!" Diego protested as she opened the door to her room and went inside.

"I've got to start," Elizabeth sighed as she put her notes onto her desk. "Goodnight, idiots. I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck."