The Feeling of a Mouse

Chapter One

"Randy?"

He hardly registered the voice calling his name. A feeling inside his gut told him to open his eyes, but he couldn't remember why he would need to. It felt so good to relax and keep his eyes closed, so he chose to ignore the feeling.

"Just five more minutes..."

"Mr. Cunningham!"

Randy gasped, startled by the change of tone in the voice. He opened his eyes, pulling his head away from his desk. At the front of the classroom, sitting at his own desk, was his science teacher, Mr. Dildine. Randy snapped his head left and right, realizing that the rest of the desks in the classroom were empty. When he looked up at the clock, he saw that it was five minutes after three. School was already over.

"Oh jeeze!" Randy exclaimed. "D-did I fall asleep?"

"This is the third time this week, Mr. Cunningham."

Randy felt his face beginning to burn up. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, looking down at his lap, too embarrassed to look at his teacher.

"Sorry."

Randy glanced at his desk, looking for his school supplies, but the desk was empty, not counting his drool. He quickly used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe the drool off. He started swinging his feet from his chair, his legs feeling as if they had been filled with helium.

His foot suddenly hit his pencil case, which he remembered was still open, and now most likely spilling pencils.

Randy heard his teacher sigh, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Mr. Cunningham. I know you don't want to hear this, but, I'm concerned that I may have to call your mother."

"What?! Can't you just give me detention?"

"And what's that going to do?"

He felt his face flush even more. At this point, it was probably hot enough to fry an egg.

"I dunno," Randy mumbled, kicking his pencil case again.

He pushed his seat back, but did not move to put his stuff away. The clutter of his papers, folders, and pencils bugged him. However, he was afraid to pack up, unsure how Mr. Dildine would respond. He was not planning to run off. It was just messy, and he could not fully focus on anything else. Although, the idea that his mom was going get involved buzzed angrily in the back of his mind. His head was so foggy that he felt as if his body was paralyzed, leaving him stuck to stare blankly at the mess at his feet.

His teacher was quiet for a few moments, but those moments seemed to drag out for years.

"Randy, can I ask you something?"

Randy shrugged, still staring down at the mess.

"I guess."

"I just, I can't understand what's going on. You seem like a good kid. And you were doing well at the start of the year."

He glanced up at Mr. Dildine for a moment, but looked back down when their eyes met.

"Biology's just not my thing," Randy said. "I mean, I did fail the class last year. Sorry."

Randy wondered for a brief moment if that was the wrong thing to say, but Mr. Dildine continued to speak calmly.

"Is, everything okay, at home?"

Randy felt his throat grow tight. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth.

The fact that someone, especially his teacher, was actually concerned enough to ask, felt odd. He assumed that because he was failing science, yet again, it would mean that Mr. Dildine would mark him off as no more than an idiot who didn't have any problem more significant than the assumption.

The truth was, Randy always called himself an idiot when he stepped into this class room, day after day, in a room full of freshman.

Mr. Dildine was a nice teacher. He had a high reputation around the school, even from the "delinquents" of the school. He even laughed with the kids who replaced the last three letters of his name with an "o".

So there was a part of Randy that was tempted to be honest with his teacher. The opportunity to have a way to release his anxiety was practically screaming in his face.

But he knew that he could not allow himself to reveal too much. He would have to come up with so many lies, just to hide his identity as the ninja from Mr. Dildine. It just seemed like too much work, and Randy did not have the energy for that.

Besides, Mr. Dildine probably had enough going on in his own life. Randy's problems would just be a burden on him.

"I'm fine," Randy said quietly.

His teacher was silent once again. Randy looked up, his curiosity getting the better of him. Mr. Dildine was frowning at him, his eyebrows raised in bewilderment.

Randy bit his lip.

"I'm fine, really," he insisted. "I won't fall asleep anymore. Can I go now? I've got a lot of homework this weekend."

Not that he was going to start it early. Even if he wanted to, something was always interrupting him. Sometimes it was because Howard was texting him. Other times his mom wanted his help with something. Many times however, it was because a monster was attacking the city. And sometimes, he literally just could not do it. There had been several times Randy had spent literally hours just staring at his homework, because it was that difficult for him to even read the directions.

Another sigh escaped Mr. Dildine's lips.

"Yes. You may go."

"Thanks."

Randy quickly shoved his stuff into his bag, not even bothering to put the papers or pencils in their separate containers. Then he stood, picking up his bag. He was about to step out the door, when Mr. Dildine spoke once more.

"My doors are open any time you need. I don't judge a student for their grades."

Randy stopped, his foot in the hallway. The sounds of his fellow classmates were beginning to fade, already half of the student body out of the building.

Gripping the strap of his satchel, Randy nodded, unable to look at his teacher any more.

"Thanks."

He quickly left the classroom, his legs still tingling and jittery. He couldn't wait to get home, so he could get into bed and forget about school and everything else for a few hours.

As Randy reached his locker, he felt his pocket vibrate. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. When he turned it on, he saw that there was a message from Howard.

Randy grunted, and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He quickly unlocked his locker, grabbed his jacket, and slammed the door shut, before making his way to the exit of the building as fast as he could.

He knew Howard was probably looking for him, but he felt like this was not a good time to see him. Randy felt like if he couldn't go to sleep soon, he was going to pass out.

As Randy exited the building, he kept his eyes to the ground.

The young teen was aware that it was probably rude to avoid his friend. Yet he was too tired to really care. Besides, lately it seemed like every time they did try to do something, their time together was cut short, mostly due to an attack at school or in the city.

Despite the fact that the robot attacks had decreased dramatically over the last year, Randy was still overwhelmed. The Sorcerer on the other hand, attacked so frequently, that it was starting to amaze Randy that he had managed to keep everything under control for this long.

Even though he knew he could not control his busy schedule, he still felt guilty, always having to abandon Howard to do his job. That wasn't what a good friend was supposed to do.

At this point, Randy felt like it was too much work to even deal with his guilt. It was just easier to avoid it. Things would hopefully work out on their own, eventually.

Randy reached the cross light without any conflict. He felt a tension lift from his neck. He looked up and inhaled the cool air.

It would still take about another month before the plants outside would start to bloom. Although Randy was already noticing subtle hints that told him that spring was coming soon. The wind was starting to feel warmer, no longer having the ice outside to accompany it. He could even smell an earthy scent that reminded him that it had rained this morning.

The cross light changed lights, telling Randy that he could walk. He looked both ways, before crossing. When he got to the other side of the road, he turned left, starting his journey home.

It took Randy about twenty minutes to get home.

When he saw the outlines of his house at the end of the block, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He jogged the rest of the way home.

Excitedly, he hurried to the porch, running up the wooden stairs, fishing around in his pockets, almost frantic for his keys.

Luckily, they were actually where they were supposed to be this time.

He pulled his keys out and stuck one of them in the lock. It took a couple minutes of jiggling with the lock for him to get the lock to turn.

With a loud grunt, he yanked the door open.

"Ug, stupid keys!"

He slammed the door shut behind him, spotting the couch in the living room. He walked up to it, dropping his bag at his feet, before plopping down onto the couch, face first into a pillow. Randy smiled, turning on his side to get more comfortable. He closed his eyes, already starting to feel the gentle lull of sleep pull him under.

His mother would be home earlier than usual, only in a few hours. That meant that he only had a little bit of time to himself tonight. But that walk had taken the remaining energy he had had right out of him. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

More than happy with this decision, he relaxed, feeling his muscles melt into the plush leather couch. He felt so comfortable, so right, that it only took a few minutes until he was out like a light.

…

"Randy? Are you here? I'm home!"

Randy opened his eyes, squinting as he adjusted to the light from the living room. He yawned, sitting upright on the couch as his mother entered the room.

"Hey Mom. How was work?"

Randy's mother, Elizabeth Cunningham, was a nurse at the hospital in Norrisville. Usually she worked several hours of the day, often unable to come home until the late evening, or sometimes even later. It was very rare that she was able to come home early.

Ms. Cunningham took a seat next to him on the couch. She looked at him and smiled.

"For a shorter work day, they sure wrung a lot out of me. The hospital was really busy today. But it wasn't a bad day."

"Well, that's good."

Ms. Cunningham nodded. She frowned, staring at him quietly, absentmindedly toying with one of her blonde curls. He allowed her to stare for a minute, until he got uncomfortable.

"What, do I have drool on my face?"

"Oh, no. But, you look pretty tired, honey."

"What? I'm fine."

Randy tried to show his mother a convincing smile, but she did not smile back.

"Have you been getting enough sleep? It's been hard to get you out of bed lately."

"Uh, w-well, you know what they say. Teenagers usually have a hard time waking up early."

Ms. Cunningham sighed.

"Randy, your teacher called me today."

He bit the inside of his cheek. He did not think that Mr. Dildine would have actually called. Of course, there had been no implications that he wouldn't have done so, but Randy had assumed that his teacher had changed his mind.

"What did he say?"

"He told me that you've been having a hard time staying awake, and that he's concerned about you."

"Well, I'm okay."

"Look, if there's something wrong, you can tell me."

"Mom, I'm fine!" Randy stood from his seat on the couch. "I just have a lot of school work. Sometimes I have to stay up a little to finish. It's not a big deal."

She stood too, clearly intent on keeping the conversation going. He wished that she would just change the subject. He said that he was fine, and he couldn't understand why she was still talking about this.

"Did you know that you're failing biology again?"

Quickly, he let his head fall down, and he looked down at his shoes. His shoelaces were untied.

"Yeah, I did. But, I'm trying to get it back up."

He did not want to deal with this now. He knew that this conversation was going to turn ugly.

"You should make sure you go to bed early. It's not helping you to stay up studying, just to miss the lesson in class."

"I know. You're right." He picked up his bag by the strap. "I'm going to my room."

"Wait—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Randy paced to the staircase, beginning to feel unbearably antsy.

"Randy!"

He stopped in his tracks. With an irritated groan, he dropped his bag sloppily onto the floor, the contents of it spilling everywhere at his feet. His stomach growing tighter with knots by the second, he turned to face his mother, struggling to keep a scowl off his face.

"Okay, so I'm failing science. What else is there to it?"

He felt trapped, standing at the edge of the staircase, the door to his room in complete view from where he stood, while his mother could chew him out all she wanted. He did not understand what more she could say to help him. This was not going to help him pass the class.

He did not want to look at her anymore, suddenly too intimidated. She wasn't even scowling at him, but her eyes aimed right at him just made him so anxious that he felt sick. He looked up at the clock on the opposite wall in the living room. Digital clocks were easier to read, but he knew it was close to dinnertime.

"You're not taking this seriously. If you don't get your grade up, you're going to fail again!"

Randy gritted his teeth. His jaw ached in response.

"I know, Mom! I know what's going to happen. Do you think I wanted to fail?"

But he knew what she was thinking. He had had all the time in the world to get his grade up since the end of January, when he had failed the first test of the second semester. He still had no idea how he had been able to pass the first semester, but whatever happened last time clearly was not going to happen again. He knew that he was probably going to have to repeat science, again.

It wasn't like he wanted to do so poorly. Of course not—nobody actually wanted to.

He had been told several times that he needed to work hard in order to succeed at anything. That once he started trying, he could do whatever he wanted with his life. That he had "so much potential", if only he would put in the "effort".

God, he hated hearing that.

Nobody knew how hard it was for him to study. Every time he picked up his notes, it was impossible to keep his eyes on the page for more than a few seconds, whether that was due to an outside distraction, or because his notes were too sloppy, or because he was just too tired. Or sometimes he couldn't even stay focused because he was too focused on not getting distracted, up to a point where that would distract him.

Sometimes it was hard to even start his homework until midnight, because it took him forever to simply to get the energy to even open a book. On top of his ninja duties, he was always exhausted, because he never had time to sleep, because he was too busy doing the homework he was unable to do earlier in the evening.

Ms. Cunningham let out a deep sigh, her own exhaustion clear on her face. Randy immediately felt guilty. He knew she had enough to deal with. It wasn't easy to be a mother, or a nurse with late hours.

Randy was always aware of how much he drained his mother. He felt terrible for doing that to her, but at the same time he did not know how to stop. He felt helpless, yet utterly responsible.

"No, Randy," Ms. Cunningham said. "I know you wouldn't want that. But I don't understand what's wrong. Are you just not studying enough?"

"What?! NO! I'm studying like honking crazy!"

He couldn't help yelling at his mother, but he immediately regretted doing so. She didn't know what he had to handle on a daily basis, and she deserved better anyways.

She gave him a look, and he immediately looked down, his face unbearably hot.

"Sorry."

Instead of scolding him, like he expected, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly, opening her eyes.

"Have you looked in to finding a tutor? I heard that your school offers student tutors for free."

Randy shrugged. He didn't see the point in looking for a tutor. He was more than halfway through the school year. Besides, he was not the easiest person to teach. Especially for some kid, no matter how many A's they had.

"Sort of," he muttered.

It was easier than saying "no", but at the same time, he could not bring himself to lie.

"Sort of?" his mother repeated, flabbergasted.

He rubbed his neck nervously, still unable to look at his mother.

"Sorry, Mom. I-I'll try harder, okay?"

He knew what she was thinking. That phrase had lost its meaning about three years ago.

"Fine. Okay. Dinner will be ready in an hour."

"Okay."

Ms. Cunningham walked away, leaving her son alone on the staircase. He stood there for several minutes, looking down at the mess at his feet.

He was finally able to muster enough energy to collect the spilled contents of his bag, when he felt the vibrations of the Nomicon buzz softly against his foot.

When Randy got to his room, he scooped the book back out of his bag, before dropping the bag at the door. He walked up to a beanbag and plopped down, holding the Nomicon carefully in his lap. It buzzed again, glowing a bright red.

"What now?" Randy whined, exasperated.

He opened the book, and suddenly he felt himself being "shloomped" into the Nomicon. This was a process he had grown used to by now. Yet at times, he still found himself uncomfortable, because he was literally "falling" into the Nomicon. It was especially unsettling since he never knew where he was going to land.

To his surprise, he made a perfect landing into the tops of some trees. Although he expected his rear to be poked by sharp branches, it was almost as if he was sitting back in his beanbag.

He grabbed a handful of leaves behind him, gently squeezing them. They felt cool against his hand.

"Look Nomicon, I know I'm wonking up right now. I'm an idiot and I make a shoob of a ninja. And I really don't know what to do right now."

A gentle breeze brushed his face. Randy took a moment to appreciate the coolness of the breeze. The breeze pushed his hair upward, and he turned his head in the same direction. He watched in silence as the white clouds morphed themselves into letters.

"No human can ever be perfect, not even the ninja. Even the ninja can only do so much to work on his shortcomings."

He bit the inside of his cheek, as his brain took its time to process the message. Despite the fact that he knew the word, his brain was stuck on the word "shortcomings".

Not a moment later, the letters from the word quickly dissolved into white mush, before the cloud changed into another word, "faults".

Randy reread the sentence, appreciating the change.

"I mean, you're right, but, nobody could be this stupid. You know I actually try, and yet I still manage to wonk everything up. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really cut out to be the ninja. I mean, it's probably the Brucest thing that's happened to me, but still."

The message flickered in the sky for a few moments, before dissolving completely.

When he felt his hand starting to become sweaty, he let go of the leaves he was still holding on to. His hand curled into a fist.

He took a few more moments to consider the message. Unless the Nomicon wasn't telling him something, the previous ninjas were only human too. And he knew that there had been other ninjas that were nowhere near perfect, like Mac Antfee.

Then again, Mac Antfee was a maniac, yet he had been chosen to be the ninja, never changing to become a better person.

Maybe he was going to be just as much of a failure as Antfee.

Suddenly he felt something whack him in the back of his head. Randy yelped, ducking forwards in response. It had not hurt, but it was enough to surprise him. When he sat up, he only had a few moments to prepare himself for the flash of red that was aimed right for his face. He let out an awkward squawk, throwing his hands out in front of him in defense. His hands were immediately slapped with whatever had been aimed at him. He scrunched his nose when he realized that the object had exploded, turning into a mushy wet mess in his hands. He moved his arms, and looked down to find pieces of smashed apple in his hands.

"What the juice, Nomicon!"

He threw the apple pieces out of the tree, shaking his hands off. He looked down at his hands again, expecting to see a sticky mess of apple juice.

The word "no" was spelled out in apple seeds.

Randy grimaced.

"Okay, so maybe I'm not going to be like Mac Antfee. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm a complete idiot."

He let out another squawk when he felt a seed flicked at his face, hitting him right in the nose.

"Quit it, you shoob!"

Suddenly another apple was thrown, this time hitting him right between the eyes. Randy squealed, bringing his hands up to his face to clean the mess. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his room, sitting on his beanbag. He squeezed his hands, and realized that they were no longer sticky from the apple.

He stood, putting the Nomicon gently down on the beanbag. With a tired sigh, he stretched, pulling his arms high above his head.

He was tempted to sneak out to the arcade, but he knew his mother would throw a fit if she found out. And there was no chance she wouldn't find out. There was no sneaking around with that woman. Randy had learned that the hard way, several times. And he didn't have the energy to deal with another grounding right now. There was just too much going on. And even though it was Friday night, he knew he was not allowed out of the house after dark, unless he was already at Howard's house or getting a ride there.

Not that he minded staying home. It wasn't so bad, especially when he was in his room, where he was safe from arguments with his mom about his grades, or anything else he had messed up on. Usually he was able to entertain himself with video games, or the Internet. Tumblr killed a lot of time.

But he wasn't really in the mood to do either of those things. He would never tell Howard, but video games like "Grave Punchers" weren't as fun as they used to be. Maybe he was just getting too old for them, or maybe he just needed to find something new. He needed an activity he didn't have to worry about his mother scolding him for.

Randy stood still for a few moments, before sitting back down, picking up the Nomicon and setting it down beside him. He paused, before placing it back down on his lap.

It couldn't hurt to do some training for a little while. The Nomicon would probably be happy to see its student taking his ninja training seriously. And he had at least half an hour before his mother would be knocking on his door, telling him that dinner was ready.

He opened the book, once more being sucked into the Nomicon.

...

Author's Note:

Wow. Well after several weeks of writing and editing, along with over a year of planning, I'm finally able to publish this.

First, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this, because I've got more coming soon! If you found some things that bugged you, I'm open to constructive criticism. I love constructive criticism because it helps me become a better writer. So feel free to be knit picky, if that's your style. I'm extremely knit picky too, so I won't take it personally! :3

Also, I want to say thank you to a very good friend of mine. I want to thank Chihuahua Rocks, the author of the lovely fanfiction "Enter the Nomicon". I've been editing with this gal for years, and it's actually thanks to her that I even got into this "Bruce-tastic" show. Ninja show has completely taken over my life, thanks to her and her fic. She's also been super helpful with this story, and I really appreciate that. So Chihuahua, thank you so much!

I will try to keep you guys up to date on the progress of each chapter. I'm going to put how much done I have of chapter two as a percentage on my profile after I publish this. I will do my best to keep it up to date, so you guys can know how I'm doing on each chapter.

Once school starts up again in September, I will become a bit busy, especially because I'm also looking for a job. But I probably won't be completely swamped, since it's my senior year, and since I usually have tendencies to put off school work to goof off.

Another thing. This may be more apparent later, but I'm behind on season two. I'm planning to catch up as soon as possible, but there will most likely be some details that conflict with details from ninja show. It shouldn't take away from the quality of the plot, but I'm just warning you now so you're not surprised later.

Finally, a disclaimer. I do not own ninja show, or any details from ninja show. "Randy Cunningham: 9th grade Ninja" belongs to the two awesome dudes who wrote the show.

Well, thanks again for reading chapter one of my story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote it!

Don't forget to leave a comment! :3

Later!

-Dylexa