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Rebecca Ingrid Naomi Isonheim stepped out of the building onto the steps leading down to the earth. As she did so, she moved the long sleeves of her shirt over her arms down to her wrists. She so hated to cover her fur after it was treated, for now it had the color and texture of the foam on a root-beer float. Four times a year she got her fur lightened, because she hated the natural mud-brown color with a passion--and because mud wasn't the first adjective that came to mind.

Rebecca was better known by the name Rini. She once hated her names as much as she hated the color of her fur, for when kids found out she had four names it was something different; and anything different was ridiculed. But second grade was over with and since then she had grown accustomed to her extra name--although which name was the 'extra' one was debatable.

Throughout first and second grade she had a sort of identity crisis. She noticed that everyone had a name, and everyone fit that name well--or if they didn't, there was always an easy enough name to find that fit them. But, try as she might, for a very long time she couldn't find a name for herself. Sometimes she felt like Rebecca or Becky, but other times she felt like Ingrid or Naomi. It was like she was split into three people and none of them wanted to share an identity with the other.

Then she saw the Wizard of Oz, and the name Oz perplexed her greatly. She didn't know what it meant. She knew what many names meant, best of all her own, but Oz was new. She looked it up, as she did all names, and eventually discovered that the fake little wizard was just like her--even more so. As it turned out Oz was not a real name, but the initials of his first two names used as a name. He had seven other names, which he didn't use because it spelled PINHEAD.

Her world came together when she stopped thinking of herself as either Rebecca, Ingrid or Naomi, but as just one person: Rini.

Everything had a name. Names were fun lots of the time. Her best friends' names were only a start. There were Tabitha and Tabetha, Siamese cats who more commonly went by Bitty and Betty. They were twins, of course, and every now and then Rini couldn't help hearing that song from Lady and the Tramp; "We are Si-a-mese if you please..."

There was another girl who was sort of a part of her group, but in third grade. Her name was Cheri Berry. Of course, her first name was actually pronounced 'sherry', but 'cherry' was more her personality. She was a pretty little vixen, and if Rini wasn't leaving for middle school she would have felt threatened by the girl's charm. Instead, Cheri was sort of her protégé.

Then there was Zachary, leader of the Little Rascals. He was also in third grade, and the cutest little thing ever. He was such a charmer; quick wit, charisma and smooth. He was aptly dubbed Ziggy-Zee.

Rini prided herself in knowing many peoples' names, both real and pseudo. Hardly anyone knew Richard's real name, mostly because he spoke so strangely. According to Goren he once had a very bad speech impediment that he got over, which made it difficult for him to pronounce the '-chard' half of his own name. He still went by the name he could only manage to say, although he claims he can say his name correctly. His last name was still a bother for people to pronounce though; everyone always said PEA-ah-duss when Rini was sure it was pronounced pie-AY-duss.

But as she traversed the playground there was one name on her mind that she didn't know to whom it belonged. A dangling identity.

Ark, she said in her head. Three letters; infinite possibility. But there was a link between him and Emeral, she just had to find it.

Lyza shivered, watching the bullies kick a soccer ball around the open field next to the playground. Usually Lyza went unnoticed by the boys, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand it was nice that she didn't get harassed, but on the other hand how much of a loser did you have to be for not even the bullies to pick on you? Then again, maybe it was cuz she was a girl.

Somehow that didn't seem like the real reason.

"Hey, Lyza?"

She turned toward the voice, speaking with a half-popscicled tongue, "Y-y-y-y-y-yeah?"

Ket stood below her, as she was sitting at the opening of the corkscrew. "Have you seen Emmy?"

"N-n-n-n-no clue. Wh-wh--" she huffed, "What's up?--How's T-t-t-tutty?"

"Tutty's good," he looked around almost nervously, but then focused back onto her. "Well," he spoke, without a stutter, "Emmy and I were both gonna give you this;" he unzipped his jacket and revealed a hidden package, wrapped in silver paper, "But she's MIA."

Lyza watched as the silver package reflected the overcast light like a foggy mirror. He climbed up the corkscrew toward her and, sitting with one hand clasped onto the center bar, handed her the little gift.

It was a long, rectangular gift, and very thick. There was a seam that was either purposefully or accidentally not taped, but it made it convenient for her to open without having to take her gloves off. She peeled away the wrapping paper, revealing underneath the cover of a paper-back book that smelled very fresh and new.

She read the big word on the top, and then said aloud; "What are ma-nem-o-nics?"

"It's actually pronounced neh-mon-ics," he corrected, pointing to the word's phonetic expression at the bottom of the cover. "It's a big word but it means to memorize words using little games. Like, the first one is 'antsy aardvark'," he opened the book to the first page to show the mnemonic. "See? It's even got little cartoons; an aardvark is an ant-eater, and he's antsy because he's got ants in his pants."

Lyza giggled, and then as she got more and more of the pun she had to stifle herself from an all-out laugh-fest or else the bullies might notice and come snooping. "I get it," she said, calming down, "That's a neat idea. Maybe I can learn how to make up my own mnemonics for our vocab quizzes."

Ket smiled, "That's the idea. And what's really cool is, high-schoolers use those books, so you can start saying stuff Kval doesn't understand."

She smiled brightly, "Hey--yeah! That'll put ol' fart-head in his place."

Ket chuckled. "You lost your stutter," he pointed out.

"W-w-what?"

"Uh oh, it's back."

Lyza blushed, "I'm-m k-kinda c-cold..."

"You can hang out in the library y'know. It's a lot warmer in there. Plus now you got a book to read."

"S-s-sounds g-good to m-me." She put the book in her armpit, "You wan-n-na come w-with?"

"Nah, it's too hot for me. I like the cold."

She giggled, and leaned forward to half-hug him. "You c-c-cra--zy," she teased, and clambered down the corkscrew. "S-see ya back in c-la-lass."

Panda walked about the playground. A new school took a day or two explore, and even though he'd been to some places with Mrs. Oulryk and his parents, the play grounds was one he wanted to see more of. It was roughly in the shape of an L, except the L was backwards. Even though he did not quite know every detail, he would soon come to learn the de facto names of the segments of the area.

At this moment, he was at the top of the L; The Field. This was an open area right by the gym, separated from the garage only by a ditch that stretched all the way to the courtyard along the walkway to the third-grade hall. On the other side of the gym was the area he had run laps in earlier that day.

Currently lots of kids played with a soccer ball. One of them, a cheetah, was clearly dominating the game. Panda's aversion to sports kicked in and he continued down the stem of the L. From the walkway to the third-grade hall was a sidewalk that, much like the ditch and the gym, separated the play ground and the courtyard. Between the sidewalk and the fence to the courtyard were a few picnic tables that probably saw a fair share of bird-dookies.

He passed a swing set that was parallel to the sidewalk, on his left. These were the good swings, because they were new, and consequently beyond them was the New Playground. The New Playground was primarily brightly colored--blues, greens, yellows, oranges, reds--and had little to no wear and tear. It boasted a tire-climb, corkscrew, two long tunnels one atop the other, three sets of monkey bars, and a slide that looked like it went up to the heavens.

Continuing on, nearing the corner of the L, he came across the Old Playground. Brown, rusty and made of cold metals, the Old Playground existed only because it was usable and it was too much trouble to take it away. It had a dome jungle-gym, which was currently occupied by a group of kids; a ladder, a short slide, a fire-man's pole, a set of monkey bars, and two swirl-slides on a dedicated section--one of them was open-top, the other one was tunnel. The two swirl-slides and the other section were joined by a wood and chain-link bridge. By some miracle, this bridge had all of its planks, but there was no real way to tell if they were old or new.

At last, after passing the set of bad swings that no one really used, and after stepping across a second ditch that ran along the building, in the bottom of the L, was the Cabbage Patch. Bordered on the inside by a big building souped-up to look like a barn, and on the outside by a heavy chain-link fence against a street, the Cabbage Patch was where the kindergartners were confined to have their recess.

The barn, which was the Kindergarten Farm, was very well maintained. This is primarily because new parents seeking a school for their young pre-Kinders look at three things: the atmosphere, the cafeteria, and the Kindergarten classrooms. The other hallways were sometimes visited as well, but their impression was negligible compared to the Kindergarten hallway, therefore the Kinders got the most well-kept building of the whole school.

The Cabbage Patch was just as kempt. Whereas the other parts of the play ground were mostly dirt, sand, pebbles and the occasional tuft of dying grass, the Cabbage Patch was vibrant and green, even in the winter. Most of the older kids did not go to the Cabbage Patch, therefore it was almost as new-looking as the New Playground, even though it was several years older.

The oldest ruin of the Cabbage Patch was clearly the tunnels. It was like there was once a giant parthenon that had been destroyed, and all that was left were the columns. There were four tunnels, each one made of a heavy, red stone. Then, there was The Castle. This was where the Little Rascals still ruled. It was a play set that was quite the real-deal, everything from a draw-bridge to crenellations and terraces. It even looked big enough to be called a castle.

As Panda began to walk away, having satisfied his orientation, he spotted a rat-girl heading for the tunnels.

Emeral sat in one of the tunnels in the Cabbage Patch. Wind rushed past both mouths, but she was safely tucked away inside the throat beyond reach. For the first five minutes of recess she thought this was stupid. She knew she wasn't running from the cold. Ritzer's boys were outside, somewhere, but they wouldn't come to the tunnels, not to overtly seek her out.

She was scared of Ritzer. No...not scared, just...cautious. She was safe, with or without Ket. Right now her other half was somewhere out there, with Ritzer and his gang--not_with_ them, but keeping an eye on them.

While she hid away. She felt so pathetic.

"There you are."

Emeral let out a scream. At one of the tunnel's mouths, Rini clamped her hands over her ears.

"What the heck, girl?"

"S-sorry," the tigress replied, "Just...surprised me, that's all."

"You're not gonna go all Judo on me are you?--Can I come in?"

"It's Jiu-Jitsu. Fine, come in. Why aren't you with the other girls?"

Rini crawled in and sat comfortably--as comfortably as one could sit in a cramped tunnel, that is--facing Emeral. "They're pestering the boys."

"And you're missing out?"

"I had enough fun pestering Goren over the holidays," she said, "We exchanged promise rings, spent lots of time together. Y'know."

"That's nice. So you had a good Christmas?" Emeral tried her best to sound genuine, but really this conversation was awkward--since when did Rini just come to 'talk' to her?

"Uh huh," the rat said; "Did you have a good Christmas with Ark?"

Outside, the wind howled, and purged into the tunnel, causing Emeral's hair to spray wildly on one side of her face.

"Whad'ya mean?"

"You know what I mean," Rini said, as coldly as the air outside. "The boy on your phone."

"What about him?"

"Come on, Emmy," the rat smiled, her color-treated fur as artificial as her friendliness, "We both know Ark is a boy you like. Who is he?"

"None of your business," Emeral snapped back.

"I don't mean it like that," she replied, hurt in her voice, "Maybe you two and us two can go out some time or something, you know?"

"As if. I don't even like him, he's just a friend."

"You are so bad at this," Rini laughed, "You can't lie to me, Emmy. I can see it in your eyes and all over your face--you like Ark. Have you told him you liked him?"

"Shut up."

"Does he go to this school?"

"I said shut up!"

"I bet he does!"

"Leave it alone, Rini." Emeral growled, moving to get out of the tube. She huffed as the wind bit her ears, and pulled her hoodie over her head. The bell rang.

"You can hide it if you want."

The voice came from behind; Rini was out of the tunnel.

"I'll find out who he is soon enough. Before school ends. The more you try to hide it, the easier it'll get."

"I thought I told you to shut up." The tigress felt cold. She led the way back to the building for lunch, careful not to be with Ark for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, he either knew to avoid her or just happened to be doing the same thing. They sat at opposite ends of the cafeteria during lunch. They didn't group with each other in Social Studies. They didn't meet until after the second crosswalk home, halfway to Emeral's house. Even then, they walked in a line, and not side-by-side as they had done many times before. The walk was long, much longer in the cold than in the warmth.

He opened the gate, having memorized the fourth change in combination since he'd seen her open it the first time. The little pond in the center of the cul-de-sac was slush with ice, waiting for a family of ducks to come visit and warm its tremors in the spring.

They walked up the steep driveway, and she fished out her key and coaxed the lock hurriedly to get into the warmth of the house. Inside, they sloughed their backpacks and jackets, letting out all of their shivers.

"I'm really not looking forward to walking home..." Ket muttered.

"You don't have to leave right away, do you?"

He shook his head, staring into her eyes. "Nah. I just have to get home in time to do my homewo--"

His breath was cut short as Emeral snared his body into a tight hug. Arms and all he was snared, so that he couldn't even return the embrace.

"I've been waiting to do this all day..." She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Will you promise me something?"

"Depends." He managed to say. "What?"

"This," she said, squeezing him more gently, "Every day after school. For five minutes. At least."

He smiled, and spoke a soft, "Sure," then wriggled a bit. "But, can I have my arms back?"

"No!" She giggled, "Five minutes."

"At least," he clarified.

"At least..." She loosed his arms and he backed up into the wall, where they embraced for five minutes, at least.