A/N: WP is back! I decided since everyone is sad their winter break is over, I'd make up a story! This one expresses my want to be a psychologist. I've decided it's what I want to do, so I wrote about it! Kind of the way people write songs to express themselves... only I get mine reviewed. So please enjoy!

-WP

I sighed, looking down at my clipboard. Just recently a group of teens had been apprehended for something or other, and now I, the head of the Orange Country Juvenile Hall psychiatric ward, am now left with hour sessions with each of them, once a week each. This was nothing new, in fact, I had talked to many psychotic children. But this group, everyone warned me, was different. The police and other officers involved in the cases had all passed along that these teenagers were insane. But I firmly believed that if you give someone a chance, they can turn out at least half-descent. Anyone.

So now I had my first session with a boy by the name of Kakuzu. He knocked politely on my door and I called for him to enter. He was tall, and tan, with little green blood-shot eyes that darted around the room. I smiled politely and offered him a seat. He took it and then turned his piercing gaze to me. "So you're Kakuzu?" I asked. He grunted. "Good. Now then, tell me a little about yourself." Kakuzu stared at me for a long moment. "All right then." I doodled a little airplane in the margins of my paper. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

"You already know that," Kakuzu shot lazily.

"I haven't heard your side."

"Will it change my sentence?"

"Maybe."

"I don't work with maybe. I only work with certainties." I nodded, making a note of this.

"And why do you feel that way?"

"Because it's easier." I nodded. This was pretty straight-forward: he obviously didn't like doubt or chance, and preferred having things under his own control.

"And you value how easy things are?"

"Can you draw that conclusion?" I smiled.

"Mostly. But I'd like to hear your opinion."

"My opinion?" Kakuzu's little eyes darted around, and landed on my pen. "That can write in outer space, can't it? Worthy quite a lot, isn't it?"

"I suppose. It was a gift, you see," I replied, looking at the pen. Kakuzu shrugged. I could tell he was avoiding actually addressing my interest in him. "Do you like it?" Kakuzu shrugged. "I see. Is there anything else in this room that is valuable?"

"Not particularly," he said lazily, eyes only running over everything, having already taken an inventory. I made note of this. He had an eye for worth, and only material worth, it seemed. Perhaps he put his faith in inanimate objects for fear of reaction of some sort, say rejection, or scorn. "I know what you're trying to do," he said slowly, looking at me. "And it may work. Then again, it may not. Many people have tried to get inside my head, and none have been successful." I smiled politely.

"I'm only here to help," I replied. "We'll talk more later." After he left, I took stock of everything. He had taken two of my pens, and a few unimportant papers. Sighing, I sat back. They'd be back soon anyway, and if they weren't, they were worth sacrificing to figure this one out.

"Hi! I'm Tobi!" As soon as I saw this one, I estimated a learning disability, slight autism, and possibly a fear of growing up, or obsession with childish antics.

"Have a seat, Tobi," I said, smiling.

"All right, Tobi is a good boy!" he said, sitting down. He seemed older in body, and younger in mind, than he was on paper. And third person. Probably something in a developmental stage.

"Tell me, Tobi, how did a good boy like you get mixed up in a crowd like Akatsuki?" I asked.

"Zetsu-sempai is part of Akatsuki! And Tobi's a good boy, so he does whatever he's told." Well, he obviously needed to reassure himself pretty often. And had some bizarre attachment that contradicted his image of himself.

"Who is Zetsu?"

"Zetsu is Tobi's sempai! And so is Deidara sempai!"

"Are these people both boys?"

"Yes sir!" I nodded. So he had an attachment to two of the other teenagers.

"And you got mixed up for what reason?"

"Tobi can't remember," Tobi admitted. "They found me, so I hang out with them!" Imprinting, obviously.

"You don't remember? Why is that?"

"They say I probably hit my head or something, but I don't remember who I was!"

"And where did the name Tobi come from?"

"Zetsu-sempai gave it to me!" This one must have been the first. Then did that make his attachment to the second one less, or more founded?

"What happened after Zetsu gave you your name?"

"He became my sempai! And he brought me into Akatsuki!"

"If you're a good boy, why are you in jail?" Tobi paused, looking at me. I looked back politely.

"Because a good boy never leaves his Sempai, no matter what!"

"Did your sempai tell you to leave?" Tobi looked down, a moment of sadness flashing across his features. Obsessive attachment, abandonment issues, separation anxiety, the works.

"Well, Zetsu was caught, but he knew I could get out. But I'm a good boy, so I wouldn't leave him!" He was now justifying himself to me, thus the first person. Probably. This one was so easy. "Tobi doesn't want to talk anymore. Tobi wants to go to sleep."

"And that's fine, Tobi. We'll talk later, all right?"

The girl before me hadn't said a word, and barely made a sound the entirety of her presence here. Given that wasn't more than a minute, it didn't seem so fantastic, but it was quite unusual. She looked straight into my eyes, her own cold ones and my polite (I hope!) ones. "Konan, correct?" The girl made no movement or even a noise of acknowledgement. "Well hello. How are you today?" Nothing. "I know that sheet with all the different emotions on it is rather patronizing, so I'll just start naming some, all right?" Nothing. "Apathetic?" If she moved on this one, she was putting up a front. If she didn't, she was truly the stoniest person I'd ever had. She didn't even flinch. I checked her file. Only sixteen. I felt like bursting into spontaneous applause, but restrained myself. I'd just have to congratulate her in my mind. "Well then, where shall we start?"

Her eyes were focused, so I didn't suspect drugs. She watched me with a certain intelligent attention, as if I was conversing with someone else and she were merely a third party observing. "Why are you here?" She blinked, only because her eyes were getting dry. Well, it seemed like I couldn't get through to her that way. But I had my ways of getting through to her. "I had a cousin like you," I began. "Not that she was as pretty, or as self-motivated, but she could win any staring contest, even against a fish." I smiled as she continued to observe me. "Tell me, do you win string contests?" This blatant ignorance of her position, as dictated by her file, might draw a reaction. Nothing. Now perhaps she thought I was stupid and not worth her time. "I always said she was part fish, the way she could keep her eyes open. She could even sleep with them open!" I laughed slightly as it hit me. "Seems you haven't gotten enough of that lately, eh?" I moved my head to the side, and her eyes didn't follow. I snapped my fingers, but still got no reaction. I touched her shoulder, and instantly it was slapped away, and she was glaring hatefully at me.

Disgusted with physical contact, perhaps? Resentful of friendliness? I had no clue, but quickly retracted my hand. "I'll get a guard to escort you back to your bed. It seems you need the rest.

This one was a work of art. He flamboyantly entered the room with a grand gesture, and dismissed his guard as if he were a king. Giving me a lovely smile, he bowed and seated himself, looking attentively and politely at me. "Hello, I'm Deidara, un," he said. I smiled as well. His radiance seemed infectious. "I think you're a complete bastard, and I doubt there's anything you can ever do about it in your life, yeah." Neither of our smiles left.

"Well, I'd like to be able to change your mind. Now then, what would you like me to know about you?"

"Know about me? Very little, un."

"I'm sorry?"

"Very little, un," he repeated, patronizingly slow.

"What was that last word?"

"Little, un."

"Un?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you realize you made a nasally, grunting sound at the end of your sentence?"

"Why yes, Einstein, of course I did, yeah!"

"And this time you didn't say it. Do you have control over that?" The boy glowered at me. Touchy, he probably couldn't control it. "Do you have any idea why you do that?"

"No, un," he spat. The exterior was completely an act, and I should probably not attribute anything before this point to his personality. It was too quick a change to be bipolar, anyway.

"I don't suppose your parents-"

"Don't talk about them, un!" he cried, leaping to his feet. This was a child who was easily agitated, given to loud outbursts, and had anger boiling particularly close to his skin. Quite childish. I checked his file. Fourteen! No wonder!

"All right, let's talk about something else. Do you have any interests?"

"Art, yeah."

"Oh really? Tell me about that."

"Better yet, I'll show you, un!" Before I knew what happened I was knocked back by a scalding heat, and I heard many things crash. Above all, though, I could hear Deidara's maniacal laughter and saw him blur out the window. Carefully I stood up, brushing myself off and looking around my rather singed office. I then turned to look out the broken window as Deidara tore across the lawn. He couldn't possibly think he could escape, yet he was trying. What was he doing? Were the logic circuits in his mind failing? Or, more likely, did he have an attachment to free will? Would he be like a cooped up bird, unable to escape but fervently throwing himself against his bars? The guards had caught him now. I'm glad they didn't shoot. Perhaps he would hate himself if he didn't at least try. Sirens were now blaring, and many more officers rushed onto the small lawn. Slowly, I turned from the window and made my way down the hall, where I found a certain someone. My next patient, in fact.

"Nice try," I said, genuinely approving. "I like that psychotic little pawn of yours. Nice distraction he makes. Since I have you here, how about we go down to my office for a little chat?" The boy in front of me sniffed reproachfully. It beat me how they could all communicate, but hell, this was sure interesting.

"Well then, Nagato?" The boy glared at me.

"Call me Pein."

"All right. And you can call me Death." The little joke was taken very poorly.

"It's spelled P-E-I-N," he said stiffly. No confidence problem here, oh no. At least there was a certain amount of self-assurance.

"All right then, Pein, where do you get a name like that?"

"I came up with it."

"What was wrong with Nagato?"

"That's a different person, you see. Sort of like I changed, so my name had to change, you understand?"

"How did you change?" Pein shook his head, holding up a reprimanding finger with a sift smile on his lips.

"Ah- Ah- Ah, doctor, you don't expect it to be that easy, do you?"

"Granted."

"Not everyone has access to such information, you understand, don't you?" I nodded.

"That makes sense." I'd say a little more than merely self-assured. This was a cocky, arrogant little bastard. "You're the leader of your little group, aren't you?" Pein nodded modestly.

"Yes," he said nonchalantly.

"How do they view you?"

"Depends on the person in question. Konan worships me, but there are some who would be elsewhere if they had anywhere else to go, or anyone else in the world."

"Could you describe your gang in one to two adjectives?"

"Abused and cock-sure."

"Your gang, young man, not yourself," I said. He glared at me.

"I did exactly as you asked. Of my gang, I consider myself the most compliant."

"I'll give you that much. At least you're not setting off bombs and- oh, whoops, you did orchestrate that, didn't you?" Pein smirked.

"And it was pretty good, wasn't it?" I nodded.

"Quite. And believable. He's suicidal, isn't he? Doesn't really care about logic or being rational, does he?" Pein nodded.

"Very. But you'll figure all that out later. Quite a sad little story, I must admit. Who's next on your list?" I checked.

"Hoshigaki Kisame." Pein laughed.

"An easy one. Not the least bit psychotic. You'll learn all about that." Pein got up and stretched. "Well, I'd better be leaving."

"Good. We'll talk later."