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"That's fine," Mayu said, eyes fixated on her paper. She added a dash of pink to one part, and a scribble of green to another. She had to admit that she wasn't very keen with her color sense; Yeine's hair was the complete wrong shade of pink! Nevertheless, she was pretty happy with her picture in general, and continued to color happily on whatever white space she had on her paper.

Verde arranged her butterflies on the table as she had done with her cranes, folding her hands together quietly to show that she was thinking about what she could make next.

"You should try making something, too," she commented, cutting another piece of paper into squares. "It doesn't matter if you're good at it or not."

The teacher walked away, keeping one eye on the girls as she inspected the other childrens' work. Hopefully, they would work well through the class. She didn't want to deal with any more screaming for the day.

"Here, watch," Verde said, seeing Yeine's attempt on paper folding. She held the large square out so that it was easily viewable to the other, creasing it slowly so that Yeine could follow her folds.

Mayu was scribbling a bright patch of pink on the upper left hand of her paper, totally unaware of the flow of orange paint which was quickly about to engulf her paper. The watery paint ran over her picture and flowed onto her lap, the orange quickly soaking into the red of her yukata skirt and completely discoloring her drawing.

The Legend gave a small shriek of surprise, jumping up from her seat. Her eyes quickly darted about for paper towels to soak up the mess with, though she was more worried about her clothing than anything else at the moment.

Miroku gave a long whistle as he watched the scene, brows raised. He leaned back on the table behind him, arms slightly sinking into the laminated wood. This was not going to unfold to be a pretty scene.

Many of the students seated at the table followed Mayu's example, jumping out of their seats and attempting to salvage their works from the paint. The teacher, hearing this sudden commotion, turned around to see what all the ruckus was. Upon seeing the sudden spill of orange all over the girls' table, she immediately made headway for the roll of paper towels on the counter, colliding with a student who was rushing over to see the damage done.

The idea of riding the bus home with a soaked yukata on was too much to bear, both at the thought of how it would feel on the ten-minute ride home and also of the people who would see her as she walked past. Mayu slid her soggy paper off of the table, wringing it out slightly before balling it up. She threw it in the direction of the trash can on the far side of the room. However, the ruined drawing didn't quite make it, instead hitting Karan in the back of the head.

The child gave a small gasp of surprise, though it soon turned into a small chuckle, and then into a fit of giggles.

Verde sighed, stepping off of her stool as she felt the liquid pour onto her lap. The cranes and butterflies were completely ruined by the paint, but she had been folding her dragon above the table. She placed the half-folded piece on a nearby empty stool before starting to wring off her skirt. It was a raggedy old thing anyway, so there was no loss to bear.

The kids whom were watching this quickly scattered and moved to a safer location, completely aware of the fight that was going to occur. The ones who had been splashed thinned their eyes, rolling their sleeves up before each making headway for a different color of paint. This meant war.

Mayu held her hands up in an offering of peace, though it was obviously not accepted. A glob of pink paint smacked her in the side of the head, and the child reached her hand up slowly to feel the wet paint before wiping it off of her face. She attempted to back out slowly, but was hit once more by a splash of purple.

Verde immediately ducked and covered, grabbing her dragon off of the counter and tucking it into her skirt before crawling on all fours around the table and over to the safe area where the rest of the kids were cowering. They had built up a safety fort, overturning several stools and using the canvases for shelter against the flying paints.

A round of hushed mutters went around the group, accompanied by several shrugs. The kids cried and ducked beneath their arms as a splatter of red paint flew above them, crashing into the cabinet doors.

Completely involved in the battle now, Mayu moved quickly to grab a can of yellow. Dipping her hands in the thick paint, she flung wads at the others quickly. Her long sleeves drooped into the can of paint, but she didn't care; she had totally forgotten about her ruined ensemble in the madness of the game.

"I guess we wait until the teacher gets up," Verde muttered, holding one canvas above her head and one in front of her to protect her from splatters. It was an effective strategy, the Jumi was completely protected from paint splatters and was unafflicted save for the few globs that had hit her while she was crawling for safety.

The teacher had gotten up long ago, and was huddled up in the supply closet with a few kids that she had pulled aside. She knew that it was her job to interfere, but she was too afraid to go outside with the colors flying in every direction. She would wait until the fight died down slightly to make an advance.

Mayu continued her barrage of yellow on a group of kids on the far side of the room, all the while backing up into the counter. She turned around quickly, grabbing a large squirt bottle of red to shoot with instead. With a wide turn, she succeeded in squirting a long red line across half of the classroom before dropping the bottle with a groan.

She was about to return to her can of paint, but was spiked in the shoulder with a sponge loaded up with ink. Luckily, her hair was out of the way, leaving only a large black mark on the once-white fabric where the sponge had hit.

She flung a glob of yellow paint in response, laughing before grabbing the heavy can and running away. The yellow sloshed all over the ground, creating quite a slippery area where she had been standing.

"Agreed," Verde groaned, bracing herself against a few splatters of paint that had hit one of her canvases. She shrunk back, though was immediately met by the protest of a few kids who had managed to get in behind her.

Spiked in the leg with orange paint, Mayu made a scene as she fell, screaming dramatically. Her bucket of yellow paint spilled all around her, causing a few kids to slide and trip on the thick substance.

She let out a large cry as she saw the papier mache raining down, quickly pulling herself up to all fours and crawling under the nearest table. None of it had gotten in her hair, quite luckily, though her limbs were covered with yellow at this point.

Once she was certain that the rain of the thick flour-and-water mixture had ended, Mayu crawled back out to the open, standing up quickly. Almost immediately as she had gotten up, the girl was back down again. She slid a few inches forward, making a mad grab for the counter as she fell. Her arm caught onto a bowl of colorful feathers, which flew across the room and littered its contents upon the poor souls who were already covered with sticky substances.

Mayu was lucky enough to have not been caught under the bowl of feathers when it had tipped over in midair. A few of the feathers that had flown astray from their paths stuch to the still wet paint covering her clothes, hands, and hair, making her look almost like a plucked bird.

The teacher, sensing a sudden calm in the battle, pushed open the door just a crack. After confirming that it was okay, she stumbled out of the closet along with the few kids that had hidden inside with her.

Verde lifted her canvases and leaned them against the cabinets, getting up from her kneeled position to stretch her legs. Not that they could be used anymore, anyway --- they were covered with paint and feathers and ink and whatever else that had been thrown during the fight. She thought for a bit before taking them once again, wondering about the level of success that she would have if she tried to pass them off as "modern art".