(PROFESSOR UZUMAKI) THE GREG ROUTE

Despite Tammi’s reconsideration of Winslow, and thus her outlook on her mission, it didn't really make it any easier. 

Naruto’s chosen students, as it turned out, were a pain in the ass to get close to. It wasn't because they were hostile, or paranoid, or even particularly guarded. They just… preferred to keep to themselves.

From what Tammi had been able to piece together, because apparently everyone at Winslow was eager to gossip if you asked the right questions, most of them had been loners even before Naruto showed up. You know, the kind of wallflowers who blended into the background and got forgotten in group projects.

Now, they were very popular, but they didn't try to socialize with anyone else. She wasn't sure if it was an ego thing, but even though they weren’t a clique in the traditional sense, they still orbited each other in a low-key high-key weird way. They drifted through the same spaces, trained together during or after school, and disappeared for hours doing whatever chakra nonsense Naruto had them doing.

And the strangest part?

Even the ones who used to have friends… didn’t anymore.

Case in point, the so-called trio: Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and Sophia Hess.

Tammi had heard those three names more times in two days than she had heard anything related to actual academics. They came up constantly, usually with some variation of “yeah, remember when they were inseparable?” followed by a shrug and a “guess they had a falling out.”

Sophia was one of Naruto’s students. Emma and Madison weren’t. And apparently, that had been enough to nuke the whole friendship.

No one seemed to know the details. Or at least, no one agreed on them. Some people said Emma had gotten bitter and jealous. Others said Sophia had just changed. A few claimed Madison had tried to play peacemaker and failed. The most common answer was just a vague, noncommittal “girl drama.”

Which sucked.

Because that would have been the cleanest entry point imaginable.

Three popular-ish girls, one of them in Naruto’s circle, and two of them not. Perfect opportunity to slide in, play the sympathetic new transfer, get absorbed into their dynamic, and slowly work her way toward Sophia without ever touching the Greg route.

Low risk. High reward.

But no.

Of course the one useful social structure in this entire godforsaken school had already imploded before she even got here.

So much for that.

Which left… the other options.

Option one: Taylor Hebert.

Tammi had spotted her on the first day, mostly because it was hard not to. The girl had this way of standing that made her look like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and her eyes… 

They didn't look demonic or anything like that, but they were too uncomfortably focused on everything at once. Like she was constantly scanning for threats or something in the high school hallway. 

It was unsettling in that ‘do not make eye contact, do not engage’ kind of way. The sort of person who looked like they’d remember your face for the rest of their life and use it as motivation in an edgy revenge fantasy. Major school shooter vibe, that one. 

Tammi took one look at her, felt something cold crawl up her spine, and immediately revised her internal list.

Hard no.

Whatever Naruto had done to that girl, Tammi wanted no part of it.

Option two: Halle.

Which was a joke.

Halle was too visible now. Teachers knew her. The PRT knew her. Half the city probably knew her, considering the whole “civilian intervenes in cape fight” thing had been blasted all over the news. Trying to befriend Halle at this point would be like walking into a police station asking for tips on how to get away with a crime.

Subtlety: zero.

Option three: the remaining guys, including one kid everyone kept calling Sparky.

Tammi had watched him for exactly fifteen minutes before mentally categorizing him as “Greg but worse.”

Admittedly less loud, but less attractive, and more likely to be strung out than hold an actual conversation with her. He would fit better with the Merchants than be seen with her, and unfortunately, the remaining guys shared the same problem. 

Which meant, after all the internal bargaining, reconsiderations, and half-hearted attempts at finding a clever alternative…

Kaiser had been right.

Or Hookwolf.

Or Purity.

Whoever the hell had mentioned him.

Greg Veder really was the easiest possible point of contact, and that annoyed her almost as much as the assignment itself.

Because Greg was… normal.

Painfully so.

He wasn’t intimidating. He wasn’t mysterious. He didn't seem like the type that was anything but how they appeared. He was disarmingly open, the kind of person who smiled first and assumed you were already friends by default. He talked too much, laughed too easily, and had this earnest, slightly awkward energy that made it hard to tell when he was joking and when he was just being himself.

Which made manipulating him feel… weird.

She wasn't referring to morally weird—Tammi didn’t give a shit about that—but just weird in general. He didn’t fit the usual profile of people she dealt with. He wasn’t greedy. He wasn’t desperate. He might secretly want validation or status, but she’d bet anything it was just so people would like and acknowledge him.

He was also always happy.

Happy to be stronger. Happy to have friends. Happy to be learning something new. Happy to be at Winslow, somehow, which Tammi still couldn’t wrap her head around.

It was like trying to run a con on a golden retriever.

Annoying.

Still, the logic was airtight.

Greg was in Naruto’s circle.

Greg was approachable.

Greg already knew her.

And, critically, Greg was not bad to look at.

Which made the whole thing easier to swallow.

He had decent shoulders, nice arms, and the kind of face that leaned more "boy next door” than “hunk,” but still. If she had to spend weeks pretending to be interested in someone, it could have been much worse.

At least she didn’t feel gross doing it.

That was… something.

So fine.

She’d stick with Greg. She would smile at him in the halls, sit near him in class, and laugh at his dumb jokes about anything and everything. She would let things progress naturally, build rapport, and eventually, she would get herself invited to whatever after-school chakra cult Naruto was running.

Play it slow.

Play it smart.

And if it didn’t work?

Sophia was still an option, even if the trio was now a duo. Taylor was… theoretically an option, even if Tammi would rather eat broken glass. Halle was a long shot, but long shots were better than nothing.

But for now?

Greg Veder it was.

And so, when she walked into fourth period and saw Greg already sitting at one of the computer lab tables, flipping through a battered textbook, she felt a small, private spark of satisfaction.

Perfect.

It hadn’t been hard to arrange things so she shared most of her classes with him. All it took was a quiet word with the right administrator, a polite smile, and a reminder of just how generous her “family” had been with their donations this semester.

It was almost sad how easy it was.

Still, all that effort would be for nothing if she came on too strong and tipped him off that this was an act, so she made sure not to look at him for more than a second as she scanned the room. She was, for all intents and purposes, just another bored transfer student searching for an empty seat.

There weren’t many.

So she chose the one next to him.

“Uh, hey,” Greg said, a little too quickly, as she dropped her bag and slid into the chair. “I think we’re partners for this.”

Tammi blinked at him, just a fraction too slow to be natural, then smiled. 

“Oh. Really?”

He nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. Was he trying to grow it out? Why? “Yeah. Assigned seats. I mean, partners. Mrs. Knott’s big on it. Mixing people up. Or something.”

She hummed softly, pretending to think, then gave him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, I’m terrible with names, but I’m pretty sure we’ve already met.”

Greg’s shoulders visibly relaxed, like he’d been worried she might have forgotten him.

“Oh! Yeah, same—well, not same, I mean I don’t know yours, but—uh, I’m Greg. Greg Veder.”

She let it “click” in her head.

“Oh. From yesterday,” she said lightly. “The hallway.”

His eyes lit up.

“Yeah! That was—wow, okay, cool, I thought maybe you just forgot me entirely.”

Tammi laughed softly, as if he had said something charming instead of deeply awkward.

“Hard to forget someone who appears just after you slip in… whatever that was.”

He winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that again. Like I said, it’s kind of a weekly thing here. If I'm not mistaken, some students have started a betting pool on how many people slip on it.”

“I’m Tammi, by the way,” she said. “Tammi Herren.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” Greg said, grinning, and for a moment he actually looked proud of himself for managing a sentence without tripping over it.

The class started not long after. Something about SEARCH function and ISNUMBER procedures, most of which Tammi immediately tuned out. She didn’t need to pay attention; she just needed to look like she was.

Greg, unlike what she expected, was actually paying attention.

He leaned over his notebook every few minutes, whispering comments about the material, asking if she’d ever done anything like this before, or apologizing in advance if he messed something up during their assigned task. He was earnest to a fault, all nervous energy and self-conscious smiles, like he was constantly bracing for her to decide he was annoying.

It was… a lot.

But it was also useful.

“So you’re new to Winslow?” he asked at one point, carefully typing something into a cell.

“Unfortunately,” Tammi replied, glancing around the dingy lab. “I transferred from Arcadia.”

“Oh. Wow.” He looked genuinely impressed. “That’s, like, a big downgrade.”

She snorted before she could stop herself. “You have no idea.”

He laughed too, a little too loudly, then flushed when a couple of students glanced their way.

“Yeah, uh. Sorry. I just—most people don’t admit that.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Tammi asked. “This place is… well.”

“Yeah,” Greg said, weakly. “It kind of sucks.”

They fell into an easy rhythm after that. Greg did most of the work, explaining what he was doing as he went, while Tammi nodded along and contributed just enough to look engaged without actually doing anything meaningful.

He talked. A lot.

About Naruto’s training sessions, about how weird it had been at first to suddenly feel chakra, and about how half the school either thought they were all insane or secretly wanted in. He kept catching himself, too, like he was worried he was oversharing, but every time she smiled or asked a follow-up question, he brightened again.

Like a switch flipping.

At some point, without really thinking about it, Tammi said, “You’re kind of like a puppy, you know that?”

The words slipped out casually, half under her breath.

Greg froze.

For half a second, she thought she’d messed up, that he’d take it the wrong way, or get offended, or embarrassed, or worse, suspicious.

Instead, he turned bright red.

“A—A puppy?”

“Yeah,” she said smoothly, recovering instantly. “Eager. Friendly. Always trying to help.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously.

“I mean. I guess? That’s, uh, not the worst thing I’ve been called.”

She had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at him.

Boys, she thought, watching him try and fail to look cool about it.

Still… his mannerisms were kind of cute.