Game 3 - Chapter 3

"Samurai Through the Reeds," said syndicate leader Hyoga Onishi as he stood there with a glass of red wine in his hand, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, silhouetted by the moonlight. He smiled. "Yamakawa owes me money, and I want the crown jewel of his painting collection. I'd say Samurai Through the Reeds would a fair trade for his life, don't you think?"

Shaku scratched his head. "Are you sure... you want me? for this job? I mean... burglars need stealth and skill and subtletly really isn't my forte." The old man turned around. He didn't need to speak one word or make one facial expression in order to communicate what he was thinking.

"Ok, ok, I'll do it," said Shaku, raising his hands nervously. "I mean, if you really... I mean... you think I... I mean...," Onishi's eyes took on the slightest sheen of displeasure, and that was enough to freeze Shaku's soul solid. "Ok, boss. Sure, anything you say," he sighed quickly and obediently.

"You have three days," said Onishi, turning his back to Shaku. Implied, but completely understood, was the threat of certain death should Shaku fail. Working for Old Man Onishi paid well, but the man was one scary, steel-hearted, and soulless son of a Hollow.

That's why, tonight, Shaku had traded in his normal flashy haori for a tight-fitting ninja's outfit complete with mask. Not quite black, closer to a dark-brick red. Go in through the roof, Onishi had said. That's why Shaku now felt like an idiot, as he had his foot caught in a long, black rope suspended from a tree overhanging the Yamakawa Mansion which had originally been intended for climbing down into the upper floor hallway. Shaku twisted and jerked himself like a fish on the end of a line, trying to curl upwards and free his foot. He cursed a little too, wishing that he'd done a few extra situps over his lifetime. The long black tube strapped to his back, intended for transporting the painting, wasn't helping things either. "Almost," he stretched his fingers out and pulled the loop of rope over his ankle. "Yes! Got--" Thud. His face collided with the floor as he plummeted the rest of the way down.

Shaku quickly jumped to his feet and brushed himself off, hoping he hadn't been seen. Not because then he'd be in danger, but because he would have been terribly embarassed for anyone to have seen that face plant. He reached up and gave the rope a quick tug, hoping to snap it and coil it up somewhere down here to hide it. The branch the rope had been connected to snapped instead, falling down to the roof and wedging in the window that Shaku had entered. He shook his head, shrugged, sighed, and walked away, leaving the line dangling.

The hallways of the Yamakawa Mansion were shadowy, but the moon was full and there were a lot of windows. Shaku tried to remember what his boss had said earlier. Let's see... he said the art room was very north end of the mansion. Go past the mezzanine and turn right at the... oh that's nice. As Shaku turned the corner, he found himself in a large, circular room dwarfed a massive statue of a young, long-haired goddess, roughly six meters high, on top of a pedestal. Fully nude. And fully anatomically correct. Shaku stared up at the statue, distracted for a moment. Then he noticed that he was drooling a little. He wiped his mouth and reminded himself why he was here.

Then he noticed the large, bronze plaque over the goddess' head that proclaimed the area to be the Yamakawa Private Gallery. Displays ringed the room, each holding another smaller piece of scuplture. Hallways led off to either side, and a short set of steps rose behind the goddess at the opposite side of the room, topped by a pair of sturdy wooden doors on which the word Paintings was scribed.

Shaku grinned. Well... guess that finding the place isn't going to be too..., then he froze. The sudden sound of footsteps. Guards.

He quickly wedged himself sideways between two of the displays as two men, both clad in typical Soul Society outerwear and both carrying long swords, crossed from the opposite hallways into the room, meeting in front of the goddess statue. Shaku watched them closely as they made idle banter, typical "oh how's your wife" and "isn't this a boring job nothing ever happens" and such. Shaku smiled again. Be careful what you ask for, he said to himself as he reached down for his sword.

And his fingers grasped air.

Shaku's heart stopped for a moment and, not wanting to look, he slowly turned his head downwards.

His sword was gone.

A thousand fairly dirty words streamed through Shaku's mind, but he could only coherently speak one: "Shit."

Where the... oh hell, did I drop it when I fell?

He looked back up, his nerves completely on edge. The two guards had their back to him, but they didn't look like they'd be moving anytime soon. It'd be an easy, clean shot, if only...

Ok, Azuma, calm down and think, or else you're really going to be up shit creek, Shaku said to himself. Just look around. There's gotta be something nearby I can use as a... He stopped. There was some sort of a two-and-a-half-meter-long granite monstrosity on the art display in front of his face. A plaque on the front of the display read The Titan's Arm. It didn't really look like an arm to Shaku. More like a solid stone cricket bat. With spikes. Oh well, it'll do.

It was over quickly. Shaku bludgeoned one guard to unconsciousness with one quick sock to the back of the head and, when the other guard turned around, he recieved the blunt end of The Titan's Arm to the face and crumpled to the ground on top of his buddy.

Alright, he said striding proudly to the Paintings door. Now to get what I came for, go back and get my sword, and get the hell out. He threw open the door. And then his jaw dropped. The Titan's Arm clunked to the ground.

Old Man Onishi had neglected to mention exactly how many paintings there were in Yamakawa's collection. More specifically, he'd neglected to mention that Yamakawa's Paintings room was over thirty meters long and four meters high, with paintings posted over pretty much every last square centimeter of open wall space, the largest of which was a hideous and garish thing in the center of the room, looked terribly abstract, something like a dozen or so parallel black lines interspersed with horribly clashing reds and oranges and blues and greens, with swatches of grey here and there. Shaku didn't look at it for long, though, before he started sprinting desperately down the rows and rows of artwork, frantically spying the title plaques under each one. Come on... Samurai. Show me some pictures of some samurai.

The Shogun's Son. Emperor Over Mountains. The Warrior In Battle. None of the titles were right. Armour of the Samurai. The Royal Army's Victory In Ryukyu. The Ancient Fighter. Samurai Through the -- That's it! Shaku barely looked at the thing, it looked like your standard ukiyo-e scroll, a group of four large-chinned samurai with swords drawn, cutting through brush. He snatched it off the wall, rolled it up into his tube, and was off, sprinting like hell back to his entry point. He raced through the Paintings room, past the goddess, leaping over the bodies of the still snoozing guards, as fast as he could down the shadowy hallway to his rope. His sword was on the floor in the shadows next to the wall. He grabbed it, clenched it in his teeth, and started hand-over-handing his way up the rope, now kind of glad that it hadn't snapped earlier. Shaku really hadn't thought up an escape plan, after all. He got to the top, gripped the rim of the window with one hand, hit the tree branch blocking his way with the other, knocking it loose, and pulled himself up onto the roof. He yanked up the rope, coiled it up, and with a quick leap and a shimmy down the tree, he was on the ground well on his way back to headquarters.

He felt good. Exhilarated. Even with all those bumps and near-disasters, that had gone remarkably well, Shaku thought. All things considered, it had gone quite smoothly. Sure, maybe he did have to knock two guards out cold, but the fact that no one was really alerted felt like a small accomplishment. Shaku glanced at the black tube containing the rolled-up painting, still running. He didn't understood what was so amazing about it. It was just a lame painting among a thousand others. Oh well. I'm not getting paid to appreciate art. I'm getting paid to bring the damn thing back to the boss and be done with it. And since all had gone without a hitch, it was reason enough for Shaku to smile and feel happy.

He tore through the woods, dodging to the left and right from time to time to avoid the thick trunks. At this rate, Shaku said to himself, I should be able to get home by dawn. And I'm sure the boss'll have a nice little bonus in store for me after this one. I'll be able to get my sword tempered, like I've needed to for a while. And maybe a haircut and a new haori so I'll look nice. For Kyura. He started grinning like an idiot. I'll be able to take her to a nice place for dinner. Get a baby sitter for... um... her baby, whatever her name was.

The fantasy in Shaku's mind went something like this:

Shaku, looking all shiny and handsome in his fancy new clothes, holding hands with Kyura, who wore a new ribbon in her blue hair, adorned with a jewel.

"Oh... Shaku," she says breathlessly, looking to the side where she wears the ribbon. "You... shouldn't have. It's... beautiful."

"Oh... Kyura," says Shaku breathlessly. "That's... the first time you called me 'Shaku' instead of 'Firetruck' or some other insult."

"Oh... Shaku, I was made for you and only you," she says, an almost luminescent blush appearing on her cheeks as her face grew closer and closer to his.

"Oh... Kyura, I know," he says, closing his eyes and puckering up.

CRRRASSHHHHH!!!!

A sudden, unexpected obstacle put an abrupt halt to Shaku's dream. He didn't know what hit him. Or, more accurately, what he'd hit. He bounced off of whatever it was and flew backwards, dazed. He put a hand to his face and opened his eyes. His nose was bleeding, but he wasn't sure if it was from the crash or from thinking too much about Kyura.

Through Shaku's slightly blurred vision, it looked like... a mirror? What the hell is a mirror doing in the middle of the goddamn woods? he said to himself, groggily.

"Well, hello there!"

The mirror spoke. Shaku opened and squinted his eyes, trying to get his sight to clear.

"What a surprise! It's always nice to meet a fellow ninja."

"Huh?" Shaku looked more closely. It wasn't a mirror. It was just someone else dressed exactly the same as he was. Well... more black than dark red, but otherwise nearly identical. Shaku quickly jumped to his feet when he regained his senses.

"What's your name?" the other ninja said inquisitively.

"Eh? Oh, um... it's...," Shaku stopped. "You first."

"Oh! How rude of me? You're right, I should be the first to introduce myself." He bowed very deeply and respectfully. "My name is Kurotsume. You've heard of me, yes?"

Shaku's eyes widened. What... did he say? This guy was THE ninja mercenary Kurotsume? Shaku had indeed heard of him, of course. Few members of the underworld hadn't. Kurotsume was one of the best in the business. Completely ruthless. Rarely left survivors. Even Shaku's syndicate had hired him from time to time, though Shaku himself had never met the guy. He certainly didn't expect such a cunning, skilled killer to be so... polite and talkative.

"And you are?" Kurotsume prompted.

"Huh? Oh, I'm...," he started. There's no way this guy is getting my real name. "Um... I'm... uh... Red... Ninja? Red Ninja." Shaku's brain's imaginary face slapped down into its imaginary palm. Red Ninja? That's the best I could come up with?

It seemed to be enough for Kurotsume. "Ah, Red Ninja. It is a pleasure, indeed. Should I assume that you're coming from the Yamakawa mansion at this time of night?" The subject changed rather abruptly, making Shaku's hair stand on end. "And... that tube on your back. It looks like the sort of thing one might use to transport a painting. Should I assume that it contains Yamakawa's prized Samurai Through the Reeds?" Shaku took a step back.

"Ah, it would seem from your reaction that I've hit the nail on the head," Kurotsume continued. "Well, that certainly makes things easy for me. See, I've been hired to procure that painting by a certain someone to whom Mr. Yamakawa is very indebted. And I have a feeling that you have as well. It's not a very big secret that Yamakawa owes a lot of money to a whole lot of different and powerful people, Mr. Red Ninja. Unfortunately, it seems that we will not be able to divide that painting between the two of us."

Crap. I'm going to have to fight this guy, Shaku cursed his luck. He slowly slipped his hand down his side to where his sword rested. His only chance was to strike hard and strike quickly, while Kurotsume was still babbling.

"That's really too bad, you know?" Kurotsume shrugged. "I was actually kind of looking forward to having a new friend and not having to--"

CLANG!

At blazing fast speed, Shaku whipped his blade from his scabbard and aimed it for Kurotsume's throat. But the black-clad ninja was even faster, pulling his own blade halfway out of its resting place and blocking the attack without moving his body one step. "Why... Mr. Red Ninja!" His tone grew even more friendly. "Don't you realize how rude it is to attack someone whom you've just met?"

And then Kurotsume began his counterattack, delivering a roundhouse kick to Shaku's chest. But it didn't end there. As Shaku flew backwards, Kurotsume jumped toward him, spinning, slamming his feet repeatedly into his face in a fierce bicycle kick, and finishing with a backflip that drove Shaku into the ground as well as backwards. Shaku's body dug a shallow trench through the dirt before colliding upside down with a tree. Groaning, he fell over, his legs flopping to the ground.

"Sorry about that," Kurotsume said apologetically, walking toward the fallen Shaku. "I didn't mean to hurt you that much. I just tend to be a bit... thourough, you know?"

Shaku's hands dug into the dirt.

"Now... if you don't mind, could you please hand me over the--"

Kurotsume was interrupted when Shaku performed an unexpected back handspring. He swung his foot toward the black-clad ninja's neck, which he blocked. Perfect. He used the leverage off Kurotsume's arm to spin around and deliver a kick with the other foot. Also blocked. Just as Shaku had expected. With both hands tied up by Shaku's feet, that left him able to...

"Hah!" Shaku whipped his hand down, tossing a handful of dirt right on target into Kurotsume's face. The black-clad ninja coughed a little, and it was all the distraction Shaku needed. He hit the ground, spun his back leg out in a sweep kick, sending Kurotsume's legs out from under him, then, before he hit the ground, Shaku slammed him in midair with a straight fierce kick to the midsection. It was Kurotsume's turn to fly backwards into a tree.

"How about... no," said Shaku, answering Kurotsume's question.

Kurotsume began to laugh. "That was pretty dirty, you know," he said cheerfully. "But... this ought to be fun." He reached down and drew his sword out, pointing it to his side. "It's been a while since I've had any sort of actual fight."

And then he vanished.

Shaku's fighting instinct perked up. Behind you, a silent voice in Shaku's head said, and he spun around with his sword up, blocking Kurotsume's blade from hitting his neck without even looking. Kurotsume almost instantly vanished again, but this time, Shaku was prepared for this little trick and managed to dodge. Kurotsume's blade cut into the ground, and Shaku jumped at him, swinging his blade in an arc that was almost too fast for Kurotsume to dodge. Almost. Kurotsume somersaulted into the air, the soles of his feet passing mere centimeters from Shaku's blade. Kurotsume brought his blade down, but Shaku dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way. Both combatants' feet hit the dirt at the same time and they jumped at each other, their swords clashing.

All of this happened in just a matter of seconds. It would have been difficult for any casual bystander to follow their movements.

"You're pretty fast," said Shaku.

"Yes, I am," Kurotsume agreed.

The black-clad ninja spun a few more times, making attack after attack from every angle with his sword. Shaku kept his eyes open, moving his sword to parry and counterattack almost instinctively. Their swords clanged and sparked as they struck, like tiny lightning bolts ringing in the pre-dawn night, with neither of them managing to cut the other.

"This is getting kinda old, don't you think?" said Kurotsume. "I mean, how long are we gonna keep doing this?

"Until you give up," retorted Shaku.

"I got an idea," Kurotsume brightened up a little. "What do you say we take this... upstairs?"

And with that, he leapt straight up into the trees overhead.

"Hey! HEY!! GET BACK HERE!" Shaku shouted, taking off upwards after him.

Kurotsume zipped from branch to branch, reaching the top of the canopy in seconds. Shaku followed him just as quickly. At first. Tree climbing wasn't really part of Shaku's area of expertise, and he'd slowed down noticibly by the time he'd reached his opponent.

"Are you... sure you're a ninja?" said Kurotsume, perched on a branch squatted down on two feet, scratching his head. "You jump like an elephant."

With a grunt, Shaku jumped up to another branch, level with Kurotsume. "Would.. you.. shut.. up?" he said, out of breath.

"It doesn't really matter," Kurotsume shrugged. "I've already won."

Shaku glared at him. "What makes you think that."

Kurotsume pointed down at Shaku's feet. "Because you're standing on the branch that I cut."

Shaku's eyes shot open. He looked down. Sure enough, the branch he was on had been gashed through at the base by a sword, holding on to the trunk of the tree by a thin piece that was slowly starting to droop down under Shaku's weight.

Kurotsume reached out and wrapped one hand around the tube on Shaku's back. "Bye bye," he waved with the other.

Crack! The branch snapped out from under Shaku. The straps holding the tube to his back snapped, and Shaku tumbled down, snapping some branches, slamming his face against the larger ones, getting cut by the smaller ones, but hitting every single one what felt like seven thousand times during his one-way trip back down to Earth. "Thank you very much!" Kurotsume called after him, holding the painting tube over his head before disappearing into the forest.

The final few meters had no branches to break his fall, and Shaku hit the ground on his back. Hard. It hurt like hell, and Shaku really hoped he hadn't broken anything, but what hurt most was the fact that... he'd lost.

He lied there motionless, staring up into the trees. He knew it would be morning soon, and the stars were starting to wink out of visibility. Just slowly breathing. That was all Shaku could do. A breeze blew through the clearing.

And a sound of feet hitting the ground. Shaku knew he should tense up again, but he couldn't force himself to bother. He turned his head, and sure enough, Kurotsume was standing there, holding the tube.

"What do you want?" grumbled Shaku. "Here to finish me off?" Silently, Shaku actually sort of hoped for it. It'd probably be quicker and a lot less painful than what his boss would do to him as punishment for failure.

"Incidentally, what did you follow me into the trees for anyway? You didn't need to chase me. If you'd just let me go and taken off into the night, you'd probably have gotten away."

Shaku sighed. That was true. That was all too true.

"I could tell you were a hothead, though. So I knew that you'd fall into it if I set a trap by cutting that branch."

"Did you come back just to taunt me?" spat Shaku.

Kurotsume replied by tossing the tube back to Shaku.

Surprised, he caught it and sat up a little. "What the... are... you taking pity on me or something?" he said, a little disgusted.

"Oh, no, not at all," said Kurotsume. "I just took a look inside. And you took the wrong painting."

Shaku blinked. "... ... ... What?"

"That's not Samurai Through the Reeds, that's Samurai Through the Weeds. It's an easy mistake to make, I suppose, if you were only looking at the titles."

"... ... ... What?!?" Shaku repeated, feeling like all the blood was draining out of his body.

Kurostume reached into his outfit, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and lit one up. Shaku cocked his head a little, trying to figure out how Kurotsume was smoking through that mask. "Samurai Through the Reeds is an abstract piece symbolizing the view of the Samurai Kai no Morioka as he watched the sun rise through the tall grass of Nishikawa Marsh, where he was hiding with his men before commencing an ambush. It's pretty distinctive, looks like a dozen or so black lines to represent the reeds, and vibrant colors between the lines to represent the sun. It's meant to show the dichotomy between the beauty of nature and the horrors of war. It would've been in a pretty distinctive spot, too. Probably the first painting you'd see when you go into the gallery."

Shaku flopped onto his back again.

"This is just a suggestion, but...," Kurotsume dropped his smoke to the ground and stamped it out. "If you're going to be an art thief, you might want to take an art appreciation class."

Shaku didn't respond. Couldn't respond. His body, his brain, everything was totally numb. The entire night had been for nothing, and now... the sky was showing faint streaks of pink and blue. The sun would rise soon, and it was too late to go back.

"Well, guess we can try again tomorrow," Kurotsume shrugged. "It ought to be a lot more fun that way, anyway. I'm sure the place'll be on red alert after your antics tonight." He started to walk away. "See you then, Mr. Red Ninja!" And he was gone, moving through the trees at top speed, leaving Shaku there on his back, body and pride wounded, to listen to the sounds of the wind blowing through the leaves and the sounds of nature stirring, beginning to wake up to the dawn. He would go back tomorrow. He didn't really have a choice; if he didn't, then Hyoga Onishi would give him something worse than mere death. But right now... Now he was listening to the wind.

He was no Samurai Kai no Morioka. But the sunrise looked pretty nice that morning.

Clack! went the sound of Anshou Mizukin's sheathed zanpakuto as he swung it clumsily against Zaraki's. It had been a week since Lieutenant Kotetsu's "no live steel" rule went into effect, and Kenpachi Zaraki looked as bored as if he were reading a Shinigami Law and Protocol textbook. He hardly even moved, just languidly moved his scabbard to block Anshou's attacks.

Finally, he sighed and let his zanpakutou fall to his side. Anshou, seeing an opening, went in for the kill and drove his scabbard right into Zaraki's face. His arms shuddered as if he had just struck a pillar of granite. Zaraki seemed nonplussed.

"This is stupid," Kenpachi muttered. "What's the point of having a sword if you're not gonna try and cut someone with it."

Anshou rubbed his shoulder. "Well... It's just that--"

Kenpachi pulled his sheath off of his sword and threw it to the ground.

"C... Captain Zaraki! I... if I get caught, Lieutenant Kotetsu will throw me out of school."

Zaraki just shrugged. "If you don't draw your sword, then you're gonna die."

Then he attacked.

Just outside the Shinigami Academy, the forest that had nearly burned to the ground almost a month ago was starting to grow back, just a little. Still, Lieutenant Sasakibe had declared the entire forest an off-limits area.

And deep within the woods, where the fire hadn't quite reached, was a small, completely uninteresting clearing. To anyone on the outside.

Were one to attempt to walk into the clearing, one would have discovered that the very air seemed to pull back like a curtain, revealing a space inside roughly the size of a standard training room in the Academy.

But to anyone on the outside, it was completely invisible.

Lieutenant Kotetsu's "no live steel" rule had been in effect for a week. And inside this invisible training area, Hikari Kijou and Cardinal Ximenez had been clashing live steel for pretty much that entire week. Ever since Ximenez swiped the prototype 'stealth curtain' from Kurotsuchi's lab. It worked well too, if there was anything Kurotsuchi was good at, it was building on the work of his predecessor, in this case Urahara's 'stealth cloak,' that blocked anyone from sensing the wearer's reiatsu. This curtain had that same effect, as well as the light-bending coating on the outside, rendering their little hideout nearly completely undetectable.

"Keep your guard up!" commanded Ximenez, swinging his sword. "You're being sloppy. Your left side is completely open!" He deftly switched hands and slashed at Hikari's open left side, putting a scratch on the girl's cheek. Hikari sucked in a breath through her teeth and put a hand to her face.

"Don't drop your guard!" Ximenez yelled, aiming the point of his zanpakutou right at the girl's neck.

Chojiro Sasakibe sat in his office, looking veritably exhausted. It had been a week since Lieutenant Kotetsu's "no live steel" rule, and tomorrow, the day that he had been dreading would finally arrive.

Homecoming.

He had not been sleeping well the past week, and it showed on his worry-ringed face. Between expecting the annual tournament to be a bloodbath, that blasted flute music that continued to set Chojiro's skin on edge, and the General doddling around, slowly losing his mind, not to mention the overall stress of running a school, things were definitely taking their toll on the 1st Division's Lieutenant.

He sighed. He had things to do, and it was no use avoiding it any longer. He raised his hand and a Hell Butterfly appeared. "Attention all class representatives. This is your headmaster, Lieutenant Chojiro Sasakibe speaking. Please report to the assembly hall after dismissal from class. I repeat, all class representatives, please report to the assembly hall after dismissal from class. That is all."

He waved his hand, and the Hell Butterfly flew off, echoing his announcement all throughout the school. And then the bell rang.

Chojiro buried his face in his hands for a moment, then rose to his feet and marched confidently out of his office toward the assembly hall.

One week has passed. It is now just after the end of classes on the day before Homecoming.

All players gain 100 EXP (and one level) during this week.

* Everyone - PM me what you'd like to do with your level points.

* Hikari and Anshou - You are now in combat with Ximenez and Zaraki, respectively. Each of you also PM me with five actions and five dice rolls.

* Rumiko and Kanue - What could the headmaster possibly want with you?

* Everybody else - This is the last day before Homecoming, so this is your last chance to do anything you'd like to do (and get a date, if you don't have one yet). Basically, it's free roleplaying. But I'm not going to let any of you (besides Anshou and Hikari) get wounded and bloody, so think of something else to do besides fighting.

Also - I'm sure some of you may have noticed that there's no 3-B thread. I don't think we really need separate threads for the classes now. Let's have everyone post here and see how it works.

((Damn that was a long post Smythe))

Hikari was getting better at fighting with Ximenez over the last week but she still wasnt good enough she knew. She had to get even stronger to beat Baka Kasahara, and that meant...

"Hey, Ximenez, when am I gonna learn how to release my zanpaktou?"

((Geez, it took me a long time to write this due to real life interruptions. Also, there may be some grammatical mistakes and such. Sorry.))

Ryouichi's world was pitch black.

He was attempting to commune with his zanpautou. It had been slightly more difficult than usual, probably due to the fact that Ryouichi only ever meditated with his zanpakutou out of its scabbard. Finally he managed to reestablish the connection. "Kotetsu Isane-san can be rather irrational when she is angry," Mugenji noted. Ryouichi could detect a slight undercurrent of dislike in his otherwise placid tone.

Frankly, Ryouichi felt the same way. The Lieutenant's fear that they would hurt each other with blades had caused her to completely overlook other possibilities. If the students of 3-A found ways to horrendously injure each other while their zanpakutou were unsealed, then they would doubtless be able to find more creative and potentially more deadly ways to do so when their swords had been sealed away. Some people could find ways to use anything as weapons, and doubtless someone with enough brutality to, say, beat Naomi until she was within an inch of her life, would be one of those people. People like that didn't need their weapons sealed. What they needed was some serious therapy.

When he had first heard Isane's new policy, Ryouichi had been more than a little upset, although he hadn't shown it at the time. Fortunately, this setback for his training had been quickly and easily been eliminated. Yes, there had been no need for Ryouichi Kanue to worry about his training for the last week. His lips curving upward at that last thought, Ryouichi pushed all of those unproductive ideas aside for the moment and began to concentrate, trying to push his senses to their limits.

In short order, the world came into focus. In a departure from most other rooms in the academy, the walls were not see-through, but instead gave off a steady, harsh sort of light. "You are ready?" Mugenji inquired. Ryouichi breathed deeply and then gave a slow, deliberate nod. And then he waited.

A minuscule shift in energy. A slight whisper of air. Ryouichi didn't think, but react, stepping deftly out of the way just as-

CRASH!

-a White Lightning spell slammed into the wall opposite him, before crackling with electricity and eventually dying out. This happened several more times from different directions, each shot perfectly sidestepped by the red-eyed boy. Finally, there was a break in the spells. Whipping his blindfold off, Ryouichi turned around to face his assailant.

"Very good, Kanue-san!" Momo beamed, proud that her student was able to dodge so well despite being blindfolded. "You've progressed quite a lot to be able to see my spells coming without using your eyes." the Sensei continued, "You certainly couldn't do that when we first started, now could you?" Ryouichi flinched at the memory.

During their first training session, Hinamori had instructed him to put on the blindfold and to reach out with senses other than his sight and hearing to dodge her attacks. He had done so, of course, in his regular fashion, but what he hadn't expected was for her to have reinforced the classroom walls with a powerful kidou-absorbent barrier. The utter brightness of the barrier had blinded his senses, and before he knew it, she had hit him point-blank with a very painful streak of White Lightning. Ryouichi learned quickly after that. It seemed that pain was a good motivator for him.

"Now, let's see...," Hinamori mused, tapping her chin in thought. "Ah!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers as she came to a decision, "Alright, Kanue-san. Let's work on that spell I taught you yesterday."

Ryouichi nodded, smiling again, "Hai, Hinamori-sensei." He began to gather reiatsu in his hand, palm out and facing directly towards the Kidou teacher. Just as he opened his mouth to call out the spell, however, the Headmaster's voice echoed down the hall.

"Attention all class representatives. This is your headmaster, Lieutenant Chojiro Sasakibe speaking. Please report to the assembly hall after dismissal from class."

After a moment, the Hell Butterfly that had been broadcasting the message flew to hover directly over the threshold. "I repeat, all class representatives, please report to the assembly hall after dismissal from class. That is all." This seemed to be the normal function of Hell Butterflies. They would fly both down the hall and from classroom to classroom in order to reach as many students and staff as possible.

Ryouichi hesitated as he found himself rushing out the doorway and glanced at Momo, unsure if he should go immediately, given that this might be his last training session before Homecoming. At his questioning look, she smiled and nodded in understanding. "Don't worry. I'm sure whatever the Headmaster needs is important. If you can, come back later today, and we'll finish up this lesson." Ryouichi nodded gratefully and gave her a genuine smile before turning and dashing down the hall towards the assembly hall. On his way, he mused silently. I sure hope this is important. Hinamori was one of the only teachers that Ryouichi actually liked and respected.

After class dismissal, there was one place you could find Chiken - giving him enough time to get there, of course - and that place is the cafeteria. He was already digging into his food mountain, still kinda freaking out Igarashi and Satoko who were eating with him. (and that was just who Chiken noticed was sitting with him. The General could've been sitting there and Chiken wouldn't notice.)

It was mostly quiet at the table so far while Chiken was eating, only the sound of his watch and Chiken chewing could be heard. During one of his pauses for air, Chiken blinked and everything was once again bathed in a deep blue light and various strings, strands were floating about. This had been happening every so often ever since the first time it happened about a week ago, not that Chiken could remember how long ago it was. Every time it was longer before it went away, but Chiken never worried about it so he just continued eating.

Chiken took a quick break once again when it was gone, giving a few seconds of thought to the odd phenomenon before shrugging it off. He also hadn't been in contact with Myounahanashi since he fixed the watch, even having regular dreams again. Of course, Chiken didn't worry about any of this, he just continued eating.

Orihime had been spending her free time during the week helping out in the medical ward.

"Kotetsu-sensie, I'll be heading to the mess hall now. Please let me know if there are any injuries I can help with and I'll come as soon as I can."

I've been able to improve my powers of healing since I really haven't had a chance to practice fighting. I haven't really seen Ximenez at all... I'm glad I don't have to face him again any time soon.

After walking into the cafeteria, Orihime saw Chiken eating away again as usual. She sat down with him with a sad look in her eyes.

"Hey there Chiken. I'm glad I ran into you. No one in class has really been talking with me. I guess I kind of scared them off with that whole Sakoto event last week. I don't know what to do. I want to get along with other people in the class."

Orihime sighed to herself.

Junshirou dug his hands into his pockets and wandered round the school, as he had been doing a lot recently. He'd tried his best to keep his head down after the incident with Kanue... it was best not to aggravate things further; at least, not right now. And besides, he had a goal to accomplish. He couldn't waste time with investigating Kanue's motives just yet.

He found himself in a courtyard. Let's see... I got here from Corridor 173, so... that means that this building here is Advanced Strategy, so... Corridor 173 is that way, 185 that way, Courtyard 23 is over there... I can get up to the roof via this tree here, then descend in... hmm, that direction, that direction, or that direction, but the least guarded way is over there...

He climbed to the highest spot he could, and looked all around to see if there was anything that he'd missed. ...not there... not there... hmm, over there, there was an unexplored section. ...quite a big section too, looking at it... he made a mental note of its location, and told himself that he'd come back to look tomorrow. It was getting late now, and he had to practise for the tournament tomorrow.

He hopped on to the roof, made up his mind about where it would be best to train, and headed over to a large area out of view of much of the Academy. Upon reaching it, he checked around to make sure that there was nobody there (there didn't seem to be anyone within quite a long way, judging by the lack of any reiatsu around here), pitched his sword still in its scabbard against a stone, and started concentrating his reiatsu.

Matsuura helped the surprised and stunned Keitaro to his feet, a constant grin on his face. In an attempt to keep his training a secret from the rest of his class and that of 3A, he sought out and picked the most promising second year he could find, and that was Keitaro.

“What the hell was that?!” Keitaro exclaimed in total surprise as he took Matsuura’s hand and got to his feet. Matsuura proceeded to laugh a bit as he sheathed his zanpakutou.

“Now now, I’d greatly appreciate if you kept that a secret, I want it to be a nice big surprise for the tournament.” Matsuura replied cheerfully.

“Yea, yea. But what WAS it?” Keitaro repeated his question impatiently, causing Matsuura to laugh again.

“Patience is a virtue Keitaro.” Matsuura responded, a grin still on his face as he pulled out a cigarette anf lighted it. “That is my zanpakutou’s true ability.”

Matsuura considered himself lucky, as much as he believed he deserved to be in 3A, he was glad for now he was in 3B. Apparently, 3A had got themselves into a load of trouble, with their zankaputous ordered to be sealed at all times in the school. He had no such limit to worry about, and it had allowed him to make great progress in his training. He had finally learned is zanpakutou’s name.

“Let’s go get something to eat, yes? I’m quite hungry.” Matsuura stated happily, letting the spent cigarette fall to the ground, where he stamped it out. Keitaro nodded in agreement as they made their way to the cafeteria.

Once there, Matsuura made a beeline for the food, quickly filling his plate and turning to look for a place to sit, unfortunately the place was quite full. It was then he noticed the mountain of food that towered over the two sitting next to it.

Well…hello, what a strange reiatsu you both have. How curious.

Matsuura nodded towards them and he and Keitaro made their way to the table. Matsuura slammed his plate onto the table to announce his presence before sitting down, Keitaro quietly following suit.

“Hello fellow students! My names Matsuura, he’s Keitaro. Can I assume that based on your sealed zanpakutous, you’re both from 3A? What a pleasant surprise, you see I’m from 3B, seems we’ll have to fight each other in the upcoming tournament. I wish you two the best of luck, of course not at the expense of my own but surely you understand. Oh silly me, here I am rambling and I never even caught your names.” Matsuura grinned slyly at the girl, her reiatsu greatly intrigued him.

Chiken didn't have to look up when Orihime sat down next to him, he just kinda knew it was her. Not that he would look up though, his food mountain still looming over the rest of the lunchroom, and Chiken had not scaled it yet. Chiken did pause to listen to her unwinding to him though.

Quote :

"Hey there Chiken. I'm glad I ran into you. No one in class has really been talking with me. I guess I kind of scared them off with that whole Sakoto event last week. I don't know what to do. I want to get along with other people in the class."

Chiken took one more bite of a nondescript sandwich while he tried to remember what Satoko event she was talking about, but he couldn't do it. Access to his memory lake and his entire mindscape was cut off to him, but he had no clue why. However, Chiken merely shrugged it off to think about later, right now he had food to eat. Before digging back in however, Chiken addressed Orihime. "Oh? But I hear people talking about you all the time, something about your skill and something else they called 'breasts'. I don't know what they meant but you sound really popular!" Chiken smiled at her before starting into his food pile again.

Hardly even minutes later, Chiken was broken out of his food trance when someone slammed their plate onto the table, causing a small food avalanche. Chiken looked up to see two other students, one with black hair with white tips and the other mostly nondescript, mostly because Chiken didn't even notice him because there was something interesting about the other student.

Quote :

“Hello fellow students! My names Matsuura, he’s Keitaro. Can I assume that based on your sealed zanpakutous, you’re both from 3A? What a pleasant surprise, you see I’m from 3B, seems we’ll have to fight each other in the upcoming tournament. I wish you two the best of luck, of course not at the expense of my own but surely you understand. Oh silly me, here I am rambling and I never even caught your names.”

Chiken nodded when he asked if they were from 3-A, and smiled when he wished them luck in the tournament. When they asked for names, Chiken quickly piped up. "Oh, hi I'm Chiken!" He smiled, happy to meet the two students he hadn't remembered seeing before.

Igarashi had been taking his dinner in a rather uninterested manner, and it wasn't just because he didn't eat much. It was rather hard for him to have an appetite thinking about Tomorrow. He was feeling pretty nervous about Homecoming, and the fact that now they weren't allowed to train with their Zanpakutous didn't help at all. On the other hand, this had gave him plenty more time to focus on his less... violent and public dancing and etiquette lessons with Ayasegawa-Sensei, but those weren't really pleasant for him, even if he didn't feel as a ignorant about that stuff anymore, he didn't really liked them.

Also, it gave him more time to "Socialize" with his friends, even though he was still having trouble opening up to them, specially with Satoko, who seemed rather cold in general these last few days. Still, his day had been rather typical until Orihime arrived into their table, a week has passed since his missed chance to spar with her, and this still bothered him. However, she didn't even seem to remember him, since she just began to talk with Chicken, and even mentioned Satoko as if he wasn't there at all. Even more annoyed at this, Igarashi took a sip of his orange juice, trying to ignore what was being said... Then Chiken made a rather inappropriate thing about breasts that immediately made Igarashi spit the Juice he had drank. Embarrassed, Igarashi pretended to be coughing in a rather weak attempt to mask the real reason behind that incident, but fortunately, both of them looked oblivious at what he did, and now he was rather glad that they had not been paying attention to him.

Few moments later, their dinner was once again interrupted, this time by a rather loud and peculiar looking silver haired boy. Even though he had announced as a 3-B student, Igarashi hardly remembered seeing him. Then again, Igarashi barely paid any attention to the 3-B students. Now normally, he wouldn't have minded him at all. But the fact that once again he and Satoko were being treated as they didn't exist really irritated him this time, it made him feel as if other people thought of him as insignificant. Clenching one fist below the table. He decided to spekt this time around, after Chiken introduced himself.

"I'm Igarashi Sakimoto, and what exactly do you want?" His voice rather loud, and clearly with a tone of anger and defiance, it wasn't just because he was ignored yet again, there was something about that particular individual that bothered him. And Igarashi made a point in this by glaring at the newcomer after he made his curt introduction.

Matsuura turned his attention to Chickens greeting, responding with a hello before glancing around the food mountain at Igarashi, "Oh, hello there! I mustn't have noticed you because of this pile of food, how rude of me!" He smiled happily at Igarashi, ignoring his anger, "It's a pleasure to meet you Igarashi. I'm just here to say helllo and meet new people. And what about you?"

Igarashi was taken aback by The silver Haired man's reaction. He usually expected anger to be replied with anger. But this soon only made him to become more angry, he could sense his "niceness" wasn't all that genuine, really, there was something about him that ticked Igarashi off with every passing second. Almost as if by a reflex to Matsuura's question, Igarashi took the cup of what he had left of orange juice and tossed it at Matsuura, not really thinking about what he was doing, since he threw rather fiercely.

Matsuura shifted his head slightly to the right, dodging the cup with ease, a smile on his face the whole time as the cup smashed into Keitaro, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
"Ah, practicing your throw? Well, your aim's a bit off, I do hope you can correct that if you intend on using it in the tournament. Unless of course you were expecting me to dodge and your intent was to hit poor Keitaro like that, then I must say that was quite impressive Mr. Redhead. I hope you don't mind if I call you that, your hair is just so prominent afterall."

Clenching his teeth now, Igarashi made a considerable effort to not just jump out and assault Matsuura. His mocking really hit a nerve on Igarashi, specially since he particularly disliked the nickname that had just been coined for him. Barely maintaining his composure, Igarashi spat back at Matsuura "You have a big mouth, "Mr. Silverhead". I have to wonder if your bite is as mighty as your bark though. Small dogs are known to be loud but rather harmless once it comes down to it." The air could be felt to be rather tense around Igarashi by this point. Seldom has he been irritated by anyone this quickly since the semester started

"Well, I suppose that's right now isn't it? I mean those silly little chihuahuas are quite loud." Matsuura drifted off for a second as if in thought before turning back to Orihime. "I never caught your name." He stated smiling, "I did get to know Mr. Redhead's and Chikens however."

That was it, he had it, he wasn't gonna take it anymore from that guy. Stomping below the table in anger, Igarashi was about to get up and attack Matsuura, when a voice suddenly stopped him. "Now now, son. Don't do something you will immediately regret" Stopping cold in his tracks, Igarashi quickly recognized the voice. It was Sougenkotsu alright. Actually, this last week his Zanpakutou's voice had become more and more prominent, even though he hadn't released him yet. It was as if the old man was determined to make Igarashi face himself, and be his voice of reason while at it. Gah, leave me alone, you old geezer! that guy asked for it!" "And what good will that do? you are prohibited to engage in any fights like this. Attack him, and you will get expelled from this place" But!-"Have you forgotten what day will it be tomorrow? use your head instead of your guts, and you will know how to do what you so much desire to do now.

...

Sougenkotsu was right, this wasn't the time nor the place. Calming down, Igarashi remained seated and avoided doing anything else for now. Still glaring at Matsuura that was now ignoring him once again. He displayed an almost imperceptible smile. That guy was not going to get away with his insults just like that.... Hell no.

(as you guys might have guessed, this was a joint post done by me and Matsu, the navy blue parts were written by him.)

Little Sarah Yadoumaru spend the better part of the last class that day practically vibrating in her seat. And as soon as the bell rang, she jumped up excitedly. This was the day she had been waiting for.

Sarah pumped her fists into the air, as if she were making poses in front of anime style backdrops.

"It's..."

"Time..."

"For..."

"SHOPPING!!"

"The Pre-Homecoming Shopping and Makeover Extravaganza!" Sarah yelled out loud witha big grin behind her glasses. "I've been looking forward to this ritual more than anything! We've gotta buy purses! Buy shoes! Buy makeup! Buy dresses! Buy, er... you know... things to wear under them!" She was practically dancing around the room, like a captain barking out a mission, except more smiley. "We've gotta get our skin exfoliated, our eyebrows waxed, our hair styled! This is our time, ladies! This is our one and only chance to show the people of Soul Society what Class 3-B is made of! To show that we're just as sophisticated and beautiful as that other class! Just like the princesses we deserve to be!
Am!
I!
Right!!"

The room was silent. Sarah could practically feel the disinterest coming from the other girls in waves. Possibly even crickets chirping. Her eyebrow twitched a little and she looked around at her fellow 3-B "princesses."

A violent, chainsmoking tomboy in a skull baseball cap.

And a quiet, oblivious catgirl with her face stuck in a book.

Sarah clenched her fist. "Alright, this is a Makeover Emergency!" she announced, pushing her glasses back up on her face. And with all the determination of a shopoholic on a mission, Sarah grabbed Sachi and Byouko by the sleeves and began dragging them toward the exit.

"Next stop... the Shopping District!"

Sarah's Saks 5th District card would definitely be getting a workout tonight.

Satoko ran as quickly as his legs could propel him, completely sure where he was going, utterly understanding his reason for going there, but was still somehow completely and utterly unprepared for the oncoming moment. His legs bent and pushed and shot him down hallways, around turns, at a speed he was almost unused too, he hadn't run this fast since... Takeshi destroyed the thought before it could form, he needed to focus, focus on the task at hand; focus on Kasahara. Takeshi aattempted to start focusing entirely on what he was going to do, but instead his mind digressed from the topic, spawning off into a stream of his thoughts.

That blue-haired girl Kasahara had been with when Takeshi had met her, she had been Kasahara's friend, right? Just like Igarashi was Takeshi's friend; or he had been before anyway. Satoko had no idea how anyone would treat him now that Chiken and Isane had likely informed everyone of the deed he had framed himself for. Takeshi wasn't completely sure why he had done it, why he had accepted the blame for Kasahara's crime without protest, but he also wasn't all that interested in knowing; it didn't matter right now. He had to focus. Focus on what he was doing.

"...What is it I am doing?"

Satoko's pace slowed from his previous speed to a running pace, and slowly transcended into a quick jog, a light walking pace, and eventually bring Takeshi to a stand still, his mind scrambling desperately as it tried to figure out the answer to his question. 'I.. I'm going to correct her actions aren't I? I'm going to point out that what she did is wrong and... Why? Why am I doing this? What right do I have to correct her? Anything I know she probably knows for herself... I can tell her anything new. And who am I to critisize her? I... I'm no better then her. If anything I'm...'

'Worse. You're worse then her. You find what she did terrible yet you've done so much worse yourself, or you at least would have. Don't you remember that feeling? When you were fighting Sigil, and Igarashi attacked him? You wanted to kill him. Him and everyone else. And Anshou today, you throttled him, even unleashing your full strength on him in a useless training exercise. had your neck nto been slit he would have been in much worse shape. You're a pathetic, bloodthirsty vermin. And the bloodthirst isn't even real; it's a desire to prove yourself. It's a desire for strength, for power; it's my desire.'

This strange new voice was at the same time unfamiliar and yet something Takeshi was completely comfortable around. he did not jump nor start as it spoke out to him, and merely listened as he expected it to start speaking again, but it never did, and so its words churned in Takeshi's mind, and he realized that what it said was unnervingly true. Who was he to critisize Kasahara when he himself was a fighting lunatic. He was no one in this scenario. This was not his lecture to give.

Disheartened and tired, Takeshi retreated to his room, never returning to help clean up the blood stained floor, never learning about the new rule until morning, and by then he felt grateful for it, now assured Kasahara wouldn't go around cutting up more of her friends. For now he he felt nothing; he hide away in the silent abyss of a dreamless sleep, comforted by the nothingness, safe untill the morning of what...

...had been the start of a rather long and isolated week. Takeshi had been even more quiet then usual this week, partially avoiding anyone who wasn't already avoiding him. All the teachers believed he had been the one to cut down Naomi, and he made sure to reinforce the notion; he wasn't sure why but he couldn't stand the idea of them treating Kasahara as they were treating him. It felt like he was being pushed away from those he wasn't pushing himself away from, talking to anyone now felt uneasy; like they suspected him to go off any second and lodge a blunt object in one of their orifices.

With a light almost unoticeable sigh, Takeshi looked up from his food at Chiken and Igarashi, his two constants, it seemed. They were the only two he had really spent time with lately, as he hadn't spoken very often to Kasahara; ever since his failure to even attempt confronting her a week ago he hadn't felt up to it. Even Igarashi hadn't been spared of Takeshi's cold treatment of everyone around him, but today; today something was different, something felt different about the whole day. Tomorrow was the tournament, and having this shroud of cold air between everyone and him didn't feel right. Particularly his "friend" Igarashi, they needed to talk, to do... friend things. What do friends do?

Stuck on this question Takeshi observed the going-ons around him with little interest, trying to think of something he and Igarashi could do together, as friends; instead of pounding each other with sheathed blades. Takeshi was sure that not only would it leave out some of the excitement, he didn't think getting thwacked with a blunt object would be pleasant. His mind spun around and around, from sparring, to swimming, to running, to fighting, and any other verb that happened to pop itself into Takeshi's mind. Synonyms for sparring came up a lot. Eventually, an idea just seemed to stick into his mind, and it was a rather interesting one to Takeshi.

"Yeah... Why the hell not?" Takeshi smiled, his thoughts soon to be spoken aloud- but first he woudl watch as Igarashi lobbed an orange juice at a newcomer that Takeshi had just noticed. This silver-haired kid seemed to be aggravating Igarashi, and Takeshi decided now to talk to him, before he could not restrain himself any longer and simply started a brawl in the middle of the room, that would put a damper on the day. To get the red-headed boy's attention, Takeshi tapped his comrad on the shoulder, and the spoke his idea aloud.

"Igarashi, you seem kind of stressed", Takeshi stopped momentarily in awe of how obvious that statement was, and then continued. "You know, I've been kind of worn down lately, and I think we're both a little worried about the tournament tomorrow, not to mention we haven't really talked a lot. That's probably my fault. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to... hang out? Is that what you call it? Down in the Ryukongai, we could just spend the rest of the day taking it easy or something, grabbing a bite to eat, talking, doing whatever it is normal friends do." Takeshi was aware he had called their friendship abnormal, but was anything about anyone in this class really normal?

"So, uh, do you want to? Hang out in the city?" Takeshi felt exposed, Igarashi could reject him, and he wasn't partial to the prospect of being vulnerable to others, it worried him, made him nervous.

Quote :

"Igarashi, you seem kind of stressed"

Igarashi's thoughts and plans of beating the crap out of Matsuura suddenly came into a halt when he felt his shoulder being tapped and heard Satoko talk to him for the first time since they sat down. Igarashi now felt ridiculous as even Satoko was now able to tell that something was bothering him. Still, the fact that his thoughts were finally being dragged away from that silver haired man was enough to easen up the factions of Igarashi's face as he listened to Satoko.

Quote :

"You know, I've been kind of worn down lately, and I think we're both a little worried about the tournament tomorrow, not to mention we haven't really talked a lot. That's probably my fault. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to... hang out? Is that what you call it? Down in the Ryukongai, we could just spend the rest of the day taking it easy or something, grabbing a bite to eat, talking, doing whatever it is normal friends do."

Igarashi silently nodded while he listened to Satoko, all of what he began to say was actually quite true, not only there was Homecoming eerily looming just around the corner. But as he had pondered before, Satoko had no doubt driven himself away from everyone else. And while Igarashi knew the reason, he didn't actually care. He wasn't really sure if Satoko had indeed been the one that had almost killed Naomi a week ago, but he wasn't worried, if he had actually done it, there was no doubt a good reason behind it, and if he didn't... well then there was really nothing to worry about. However, Igarashi had left him alone all this time because it was obvious that he wanted to be alone.

This is why Satoko's proposal of getting out of the Academy to hang out came as a rather big Surprise to Igarashi, the idea was actually a very good one. Even though it was a rather sudden change in Satoko, it was a welcome one. As he thought about it for a second, it had actually been quite a while since he went out with anyone outside the Academy. For some reason, he always had proffered to stay inside, but that reason was no longer in Igarashi's current memory.

Quote :

"So, uh, do you want to? Hang out in the city?"

Since he had already chewed the idea in his mind. Igarashi didn't even had to blink before he replied. "Heh, sure, it actually sounds like a great idea." Quickly standing up, Igarashi also took this as the perfect excuse to leave the table and get away from Matsuura. Even if Satoko's idea had cheered him up a little, he wasn't sure if he would be able to restrain himself again if that guy provoked him once more. Quickly walking away before anyone in the table could say anything, Igarashi then stopped at the exit of the Cafeteria to wait for Satoko to catch up. Once he actually did, Igarashi spoke to him once again. "Hey, before we leave though, do you mind if we make a quick stop to our room? it might be wise to leave our Zanpakutous there, since we can't use them anyway, and there's something there I wanna pick up before we head out."

sunrise

A tick went off in Byouko's brain. That was the 10 millionth word she had read this year. She stopped and stared at it, wondering if it was some sort of portent, as well as wondering how her brain had been able to count to 10 million subconsciously. It irritated her slightly whenever her brain did things on its own like that, but by now, Byouko had gotten mostly used to it.

sunrise

She jerked her head back down to the page. What was that, she pondered? It had been a voice, clearly. A voice had spoken that word to her. She furrowed her brow and peered more closely at the page.

The letters were moving.

Now that was unusual. Byouko's interest was piqued. She worried for a moment that this wasn't normal, that it was some sort of dangerous hallucination. It... there was a weird feeling along with it too. Something calm. Something like what Byouko felt whenever she read a book, except stronger. The letters were moving, slowly, forming a pattern. Byouko felt as if... the letters were inviting her in, trying to reach out to her.

Come, child.

The letters leaped off the page, streaming past her in beams of blue and black and white, and Byouko was falling, plunging straight down, to where she couldn't see as the words spiraled around her. The sensation sent Byouko's stomach into her chest for a moment.

And then she landed. A perfect landing, both feet and one hand on the ground. Right on your feet. She sighed at the inevitable cat metaphor that came unwilling from her mind.

sunrise

The ears on top of her head stood up when the voice spoke again, louder than before. Byouko finally took a moment to observe her surroundings.

She was in some sort of tunnel. Or hallway. Hallway was more likely because the walls appeared to be made from ancient hewn stone, cracked and eroded from age and moisture. Ivy grew through the spaces between the stones, letting water drip through in places. The floor was dirt, and free of stray stones and debris. It was dark, too, but not so dark that Byouko couldn't see the words painted everywhere. On the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everywhere were words. Byouko tried reading them, but they were just random words. Nothing coherent.

The hallway was illuminated with a soft, purple light that came from... where was it coming from? She looked around. It seemed to be coming from everything, except the words, which faded in and out from dark red to dark blue to dark green to black and back. Or maybe it wasn't coming from anything. This was just a hallucination or a dream, Byouko reasoned, so it really didn't matter.

Come, child.

The voice was coming from this way, Byouko looked down the hall and followed it. The light got brighter as she walked, and the voice got louder.

The words got smaller too. The whole hallway was getting smaller, as if it were pointing her the way.

At the end of the path was a door.

Come, child.

Byouko hesitated. But it was just a dream or a hallucination, so whatever was on the other side of that door couldn't hurt her.

She opened it.

The flash of white light blinded her for a second, and when it cleared, she wasn't inside that purple hallway of words anymore, though she couldn't remember actually going through the door.

Instead she was in a room that resembled a stonework temple, in much better condition than the decrepit stone hallway that had preceded it. Words adorned the walls, but this time she could read them. They stretched in a circle surrounding a single, large character painted on the wall, and then across the ceiling, walls, and floor, like rays of the sun.



That character was where the voice was coming from, and whatever it was, it seemed to be the center of this vision.

She began to read. It was a poem, and the first word was sunrise. The voice read the poem out loud as Byouko read it in her head:

Sunrise, glitter shining through clouded heavens, glowing

Through wizened foliage, cicadas twitter, skylark answers

Staunch resolve unfolds through furhide, leaflet, feather

Knowing natural impulse without reasons, without faculty

Animals slaying animals through ancient halcyon forests

Despite violent actions, Nature's concern remains neutral

Pitiful complex puzzles learned persons perhaps unravel

Byouko thought for a split second, and then answered the voice. "Seven lines. Seven words per line. Seven letters per word." She nodded. "And that character on the wall, it means seven. Are you... trying to tell me something?"

She felt a sudden emotion from the symbol on the wall.

It finally clicked. Nanatsume. Nana meant seven. "I get it. You're my sword, aren't you."

Byouko supposed having a series of words be the manifestation of her inner self was only fitting.

To your hand, child. I give you my true power.

A sudden pain in her right hand. Byouko looked down. The back of her hand was glowing blue, so bright that it lit the walls of the chamber she was in. She could feel power, tremendous power, swirling about like a tempest, focused on her hand.

"Aaa...," she winced her eyes shut and let out a noise as the pain suddenly grew intense, like a knife driven through her wrist. The pain was inside her, spreading to her fingertips, tearing her hand apart-

-and suddenly, she felt herself being dragged to her feet. The book in her lap fell to the floor.

Byouko was back in the classroom, and her classmate, the slight girl with the glasses, had a hold of her sleeve and was pulling her. The pain in Byouko's hand was gone, and the glasses girl seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Where exactly, Byouko didn't know. But after that vision, she was a little dazed and far too busy thinking about what had just happened inside her mind to bother complaining or resisting.

She did manage to pick up her book, though. She knew she'd need it later.

All Keitaro had been doing was sitting there minding his own business when the cup smashed into the side of his face.

Over the past week, he'd learned to expect getting whacked, thwacked, punched, smashed, pounded, kicked, beaten, spindled, folded, and mutilated. It was all part of the thrill of hanging out with Ryou-senpai.

None of the other second years ever came anywhere near the third years. So, even as Keitaro spun off his chair and smashed headfirst the ground, covered in orange juice and broken glass, he still counted himself as lucky.

And in pain. Lots of pain. Oh yes, can't forget the pain.

He put a hand to his face. It was covered in blood. That broken glass had done quite a number.

"Um... Ryou-senpai, you think you could cast a healing kidou real quick? Um... Ryou-senpai?" But Ryou-senpai wasn't paying attention to anything other than the redhead girl with the big jugs.

Keitaro sighed and pulled himself back up to the chair.

Matsuura Ryou wrote:

“Hello fellow students! My names Matsuura, he’s Keitaro. Can I assume that based on your sealed zanpakutous, you’re both from 3A? What a pleasant surprise, you see I’m from 3B, seems we’ll have to fight each other in the upcoming tournament. I wish you two the best of luck, of course not at the expense of my own but surely you understand. Oh silly me, here I am rambling and I never even caught your names.” Matsuura grinned slyly at the girl, her reiatsu greatly intrigued him.

These people seem really friendly.

"Hi there, I'm Inoue. I wish you best of luck in the tournament too! If you need some fixing up, just let me know."

Chiken Kazenosei wrote:

"Oh? But I hear people talking about you all the time, something about your skill and something else they called 'breasts'. I don't know what they meant but you sound really popular!"

Orihime blushes so hard her cheeks turn red.

"Well, Chiken, thank you I think."

Chiken Kazenosei wrote:

"Oh, hi I'm Chiken!" He smiled, happy to meet the two students he hadn't remembered seeing before.

"Yes, we're both glad to meet you. Please sit with us if you like."

Igarashi Sakimoto wrote:

"I'm Igarashi Sakimoto, and what exactly do you want?" His voice rather loud, and clearly with a tone of anger and defiance, it wasn't just because he was ignored yet again, there was something about that particular individual that bothered him. And Igarashi made a point in this by glaring at the newcomer after he made his curt introduction.

Matsuura turned his attention to Chickens greeting, responding with a hello before glancing around the food mountain at Igarashi, "Oh, hello there! I mustn't have noticed you because of this pile of food, how rude of me!" He smiled happily at Igarashi, ignoring his anger, "It's a pleasure to meet you Igarashi. I'm just here to say helllo and meet new people. And what about you?"

Igarashi was taken aback by The silver Haired man's reaction. He usually expected anger to be replied with anger. But this soon only made him to become more angry, he could sense his "niceness" wasn't all that genuine, really, there was something about him that ticked Igarashi off with every passing second. Almost as if by a reflex to Matsuura's question, Igarashi took the cup of what he had left of orange juice and tossed it at Matsuura, not really thinking about what he was doing, since he threw rather fiercely.

Matsuura shifted his head slightly to the right, dodging the cup with ease, a smile on his face the whole time as the cup smashed into Keitaro, sending him sprawling onto the floor.
"Ah, practicing your throw? Well, your aim's a bit off, I do hope you can correct that if you intend on using it in the tournament. Unless of course you were expecting me to dodge and your intent was to hit poor Keitaro like that, then I must say that was quite impressive Mr. Redhead. I hope you don't mind if I call you that, your hair is just so prominent afterall."

"You have a big mouth, "Mr. Silverhead". I have to wonder if your bite is as mighty as your bark though. Small dogs are known to be loud but rather harmless once it comes down to it."

"Well, I suppose that's right now isn't it? I mean those silly little chihuahuas are quite loud." Matsuura drifted off for a second as if in thought before turning back to Orihime. "I never caught your name." He stated smiling, "I did get to know Mr. Redhead's and Chikens however."

Calming down, Igarashi remained seated and avoided doing anything else for now. Still glaring at Matsuura that was now ignoring him once again. He displayed an almost imperceptible smile. That guy was not going to get away with his insults just like that.... Hell no.

Sakimoto, what is wrong with you? These students are joining our class and you do something like that to them? I don't understand what your problem is! They are just trying to be friendly.

Rather than directly respond to Igarashi's actions, she handed Matsuura's a clean towel from her hakuma. She kept all kind of things hidden in there. This towel was dark blue with an embordered turquoise design on both corners that looks exactly like her hair berets.

Satoko Takeshi wrote:

"Igarashi, you seem kind of stressed", Takeshi stopped momentarily in awe of how obvious that statement was, and then continued. "You know, I've been kind of worn down lately, and I think we're both a little worried about the tournament tomorrow, not to mention we haven't really talked a lot. That's probably my fault. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to... hang out? Is that what you call it? Down in the Ryukongai, we could just spend the rest of the day taking it easy or something, grabbing a bite to eat, talking, doing whatever it is normal friends do." Takeshi was aware he had called their friendship abnormal, but was anything about anyone in this class really normal?

"So, uh, do you want to? Hang out in the city?" Takeshi felt exposed, Igarashi could reject him, and he wasn't partial to the prospect of being vulnerable to others, it worried him, made him nervous.

"Takeshi... I didn't see you over there due to Chiken's food. I know you guys are likely leaving, but I wanted to appologise. I seem to have caused you some trouble when I healed you... and I'm sorry for anything I did wrong. No one in our class is talking to me because of what happened."

Orihime started tearing up uncontrollably.

It's all my fault...

Igarashi Sakimoto wrote:

"Heh, sure, it actually sounds like a great idea."

"Hey, before we leave though, do you mind if we make a quick stop to our room? it might be wise to leave our Zanpakutous there, since we can't use them anyway, and there's something there I wanna pick up before we head out."

Igarashi cut me off? But I was being serious. How can I expect to talk to Sakoto this way?

Keitaro Suzuhashi wrote:

"Um... Ryou-senpai, you think you could cast a healing kidou real quick? Um... Ryou-senpai?" But Ryou-senpai wasn't paying attention to anything other than the redhead girl with the big jugs.

Keitaro sighed and pulled himself back up to the chair.

Orihime was still sad but realised Matsuura's friend was hurt by Igarashi as well. She steeled herself and put in her best face to try and help someone else.

Even if they hate me and everyone else hates me for this gift, I still have to use it for good.

Orihime uses her healing powers and a orange shield briefly appears around Suzuhashi. Any small cuts he had from the cup melted away. The shield disappeared quickly as there wasn't much damage to fix.

"That should help you a little... Keitaro was it?"

Hopefully you won't hate me for doing that too.

Matsuura took the towel with thanks, wiping off the orange juice that had managed to land on him. He had turned to hand it back when Keitaro asked him if he could use some healing Kidou on him. He turned himself again to face Keitaro, about to respond when an orange... bubble of some sort surrounded Keitaro, causing all his wounds to simply...vanish. Matsuura's eyes went wide in surprise as he kept turning between Keitaro and his now healed wounds and Orihime.

Absolutely amazing... I'm never seen anything like that before...Does that guy have anything like that too? His reiatsu is just as unusual...

"Ah...what...what do you call that? What you just did. That wasn't like any Kidou I've ever seen before, it was simply amazing." Matsuura stated in childish curiosity and wonder.

Naomi walked through the halls. She felt much better today then yesterday. She was still very sore from the incident but did not speak about it. Part of the reason Naomi did not speak of it was she did not quite remember all of it. She remembered being in class. Then she went on a walk with Kasahara. The memories stop thee though. Naomi past Kasahara in the hallway once or twice and wanted to ask her all the details but chose not to. Naomi wanted to do something with her best friend today though, wanted to have a girls day. Naomi thought they could go for a hike and talk a little. That sounded like fun.

Naomi continued her walk down the hall. She was now off to find Kasahara. When she did find her she was near a classroom. Naomi then spoke to her. “Hey Kassie! Do you want to come on a hike with me? It would be great. Me and you have not done anything together in a while. Besides it's a beautiful day outside. Naomi then smiled at her best friend.

Matsuura Ryou wrote:

"Ah...what...what do you call that? What you just did. That wasn't like any Kidou I've ever seen before, it was simply amazing." Matsuura stated in childish curiosity and wonder.

Even if Igarashi has no manners, at least this boy seems nice enough.

"It's not Kidou though it is something similar. It's a rejection method that allows me to heal people as you just saw. I guess it's kind of like a specail ability."

I see no reason to hide it since most people in my class have heard about it by now. I'll try to make more small talk since I don't really want people to ostracize me further for this ability.

"Are you guys looking forward to homecoming? I haven't been able to practice at all."

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"It's not Kidou though it is something similar. It's a rejection method that allows me to heal people as you just saw. I guess it's kind of like a specail ability."

Not...kidou? How peculiar...a rejection method....so she...rejects the cuts? Reject...reality? That's absurd..yet I just witnessed it myself..

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"Are you guys looking forward to homecoming? I haven't been able to practice at all."

Orihime's question snapped Matsuura out of his reverie and allowed him to cut off Keitaro as he was about to explain.

"No no, dreading it, I just hope I can stand a chance against your class. Our class hasn't been given much chance to practice either." Matsuura lied through his teeth, maintaining a polite smile the entire time. In fact he had basically been cutting classes to train, often dragging Keitaro out of his as well. But it payed off in spades. Keitaro was definitely the most skilled second year at this point, and could more than likely hold his own against some of the third years. And Matsuura had gained a great new edge for use in the tournament, and god knows Ikiwazura was ready to have some fun.

"Keitaro here is quite lucky indeed, being as he's only a second year. He just has the dance to worry about." Matsuura beamed again before taking a small bite out of his as of yet untouched food.

Sachi was sulking by the window. It was still hours before the prelim's started, and if the hands on the clock were moving any slower, they'd be going backward. Worse still even if they the 3-B's were not given bindings, Isane had made it rather clear that she disapproved of any attempts to inflict harm on her classmates before tommorow.

There was also the wierd dreams she had been having lately

...halls at school. Sometimes there were other students there but usually she was alone. She felt an odd feeling of being late tugging at her, and she quickly located her classroom and slid through the ajar door. Only instead of her classroom a different room was in it's place. She reconized the smell first; Incense and wood polish. She was back home, her old bedroom by looks of the decorations This should have be rather disconcerning to Sachi but her dream self wasn't fazed by the turn of events. Her dream self was also insistent that she had to get something out of the closet.

Which is when hundreds of her old ceramic princess dolls would fall out and smash to the ground. Cracking and breaking their painted face into little bits, which is usually when they attacked.

The worst part is she had a pretty good idea of why she was dreaming of parts of her childhood attacking.

With a sigh, she crushed the butt of her ciggerette against the wall, and tossed her sword haphazardly over her shoulder. Maybe she would get something to eat, or practice her kicks or...

The word "SHOPPING!" was shouted somewhere in the vincinity of her left ear.

"Buh?" Sachi replied confused

The shortie with the glasses, started rattling off a long list of thing they should do to prepare for homecoming. She she gave Sachi and Byouko a dry look, as like a buthcher sizing up a questionable peice of meat. Before Sachi knew it she had been grabbed by the wrist and was being draging towards the 5th district prtotesting all the way. "OI! I don't do shopping or exfoliatin' or whatever. Your gonna ruin my repuatation. Hey are you listening? I don't even wanna-"

And so on

Byouko Kuroda wrote:

Sunrise, glitter shining through clouded heavens, glowing

Through wizened foliage, cicadas twitter, skylark answers

Staunch resolve unfolds through furhide, leaflet, feather

Knowing natural impulse without reasons, without faculty

Animals slaying animals through ancient halcyon forests

Despite violent actions, Nature's concern remains neutral

Pitiful complex puzzles learned persons perhaps unravel

Just so you all know, impressing me by doing incredibly creative things like this is a really good way to earn Secret EXP. Just FYI.

Sarah Yadoumaru wrote:

lulz lulz lulz

Making me lulz out loud like that is too. Really, it's harder to write lulz than drama. (Note: this is not me telling everyone to turn into loonies and make this game a jokefest. Just... this is Bleach, and if there's not an occasional episode of lulz in between the swordfights, it's just... not Bleach, you know?)

Plus... Sarah's post gave me Ideas. *rubs hands together* And any roleplaying scenario I don't have to write is probably a good roleplaying scenario. ; Doing my work for me - another good way to get Secret EXP.

Ok. Carry on.

After introducing himself, Chiken went back to scaling his food mountain. He was mostly done when Orihime used her special healing ability, instantly sending an odd pulse through Chiken's brain. Having her use it right next to him totally freaked out his new emerging reiatsu sensing skills, causing the pulse. He turned to look in time for her orange 'bubble' to vanish. 'Woah. That was so cool!' That was the first time Chiken remembered seeing Orihime do that, and he was interested. He stopped eating to listen to the rest of the conversation between them.

Upon Matsuura speaking about his class not practicing, Chiken an epiphany of sorts: an extremely rare moment of clarity. Not noticing what Matsuura had said further, Chiken interrupted before he forgot to speak up at all. "Oh, who else is in your class? I don't remember seeing people from 3-B before."

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"That should help you a little... Keitaro was it?"

Keitaro looked up... into the face of an angel.

Her face, her smile. She was beautiful. It was almost as if Keitaro could her harps chiming and birds chirping. Everything looked hazy and pastel around her beautiful face.

His face turned bright red. He looked down and started shyly putting his index fingers together.

"I'm... I'm... fine, senpai. Th... thank you...!" he said, his voice strained and cracked a little.

Matsuura Ryou wrote:

"Ah...what...what do you call that? What you just did. That wasn't like any Kidou I've ever seen before, it was simply amazing." Matsuura stated in childish curiosity and wonder.

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"It's not Kidou though it is something similar. It's a rejection method that allows me to heal people as you just saw. I guess it's kind of like a specail ability."

There was no one like that at all in his second year class, Keitaro felt very lucky indeed, letting it show in a broad smile. She... really is an angel...

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"Are you guys looking forward to homecoming? I haven't been able to practice at all."

Keitaro absentmindedly opened his mouth, about to spill the beans about everything they were planning tonight, when Matsuura cut him off by telling a lie. But that was right, Ryou-senpai did make him swear to secrecy what they were doing.

Matsuura Ryou wrote:

"Keitaro here is quite lucky indeed, being as he's only a second year. He just has the dance to worry about." Matsuura beamed again before taking a small bite out of his as of yet untouched food.

"Ah yes, Ryou-senpai told me about the tournament the third year has to participate in, I do feel quite lucky I only have the dance to worry about, but I still haven't found someone to go with." He stopped, smiling slightly as he rubbed the back of his head. The truth was he hadn't been able to ask any girl because Ryou-senpai kept dragging him off to train. But he was lucky indeed, Ryou-senpai said that he was definitly more skilled than any other second year now. And now an angel, descended from heaven, was standing right there in front of him. Keitaro felt as if his heart would explode.

Chiken Kazenosei wrote:

"Oh, who else is in your class? I don't remember seeing people from 3-B before."

"Ah, now that is a good question Chiken!" Matsuura responded, turning his attention away from Inoue. "Let's see, there is Sarah Yadoumaru, Sachi Oyashio, Byouko Kuroda, Akara Daichi, Izuruo Bukowski, Kazu Arikosu, and Rumiko Adachi our class representative..." A gleam suddenly appeared in Matsuura's eyes. "I need to go find Rumiko anyways, I have something I need to speak with her about...." His voice quickly turning dark as an idea formed in his eyes. "Would you like to come along?" He asked sweetly, a devilish grin on his face as he got up out of his seat, turning to look at Keitaro, only to see his eyes focused on Inoue....well...on a CERTAIN part of Inoue to be more precise, causing him to lean down and whisper into his ear. "You know, I bet they're nice and comfy too, why don't you ask her?"

Keitaro's eyes shot wide open and he bit his lip. He got even redder, and prayed that the angel - Inoue-senpai - hadn't heard.

"Er... yeah... I... uh...," he got up, afraid to look Inoue-senpai in the face. "I'll... go with... you... Ryou-senpai..."

Upon the offer to follow his new friend to meet someone else, Chiken smiled. "Of course!" He hopped up and quickly put his tray out of the way, smiling broadly to have new friends to talk to and do stuff with, with possibly more on the way! He quickly walked back to Matsuura, giving him a nod to show he was ready, a grin still etched on his face.

Keitaro Suzuhashi wrote:

"Er... yeah... I... uh...," he got up, afraid to look Inoue-senpai in the face. "I'll... go with... you... Ryou-senpai..."

Matsuura was quite enjoying screwing with Keitaro's sudden crush on Inoue, he grinned again before stating nonchalantly.

"You sure? You could stay here and get to know them better. I'm sure you could learn a lot from them."

He turned his attention to Chiken, waiting for him to get back before nodding and getting up from the table, dropping the tray full of mostly untouched food off and heading for the door, Chiken close behind for certain, although he wasn't sure if Keitaro got up or just continued staring.

I wonder where Rumiko could be...I think she mentioned a meeting or something when I ran into her earlier...but where was it again?

Matsuura stopped suddenly as he assessed his situation.

"Paint. We'll need paint!" He blurted out suddenly, immediately heading off in search of the nearest storage or janitorial closet. "Then we just need that...and a couple...of yes...that'll be perfect..." The devilish grin spreading across his face again. This was going to be fun, hopefully they wouldn't get caught...

"Wait a second Matsuura, I'll come with you guys! I haven't had a chance to relaly hang out with other students and this would be a great oppertunity to get to know some 3-B students better."

Orihime did her best kind smile.

"You don't mind if I come with you do you?"

[There is too much to quote, I'm leaving this post as is]

Orihime Inoue wrote:

"Wait a second Matsuura, I'll come with you guys! I haven't had a chance to relaly hang out with other students and this would be a great oppertunity to get to know some 3-B students better."

Orihime did her best kind smile.

"You don't mind if I come with you do you?"

Could he believe his ears? It was almost as if the gods of fate were on Keitaro's side.

"Sure! You can come with us, senpai!" Keitaro beamed loudly, his face turning red again at the thought of being anywhere near his heavenly angel.

Satoko smiled inwardly when Igarashi agreed, and swiftly followed him away from the table, never giving anyone else the chance to actually adress him while he remained in earshot. He stopped at the doorway with Igarashi; who seemed like he had been in as much a hurry to leave the more peopled table as Takeshi was. His spirits raised slightly, Takeshi patiently listened to Igarashi when he spoke.

Quote :

"Hey, before we leave though, do you mind if we make a quick stop to our room? it might be wise to leave our Zanpakutous there, since we can't use them anyway, and there's something there I wanna pick up before we head out."

Takeshi shook his head, this was probably a good idea, actually. Running around with constantly sheathed swords couldn't be very productive.

"No, I don't mind, there's something of my own I'd like to grab anyway." Smiling a very small smile, Takeshi started walking in the direction of their rooms with Igarashi, keeping silent unless spoken too the whole way; conversation was not Takeshi's forte, which made him wonder slightly how a day of hanging out was going to go. Shrugging it off, Takeshi walked with Igarashi until they reached their destination.

Opening the door to their room, Igarashi walked inside, quickly heading towards the drawer next to his bed. There was not really much in the drawer, Igarashi actually had very few personal items, as if he had purposely gotten rid of anything that might have make him remember his past life... Igarashi stared at the almost empty drawer for a few seconds. He almost wished he hadn't threw that sutff away seeing as he might be forced to remember soon anyway, and some of what he might have had might have been useful or precious to him. As it was though, one of the few things Igarashi had stashed was a small pouch of money. It wasn't in any way a fortune, but if there was a time in when he might use some money, it could be now. Taking the pouch and putting it inside his robes, Igarashi also wondered for a second about how he came to get that money, and why he had not gotten rid of that. However, right now it really didn't matter, he was supposed relax this evening, not worry about such petty thoughts. Releasing the hold of his Zanpakutou, he took it and placed it under his bed, not that he was really worried that someone would come in and take it, but it was best not to leave it in plain sight.

All his stuff now in order, Igarashi walked over the entrance of their room. Pausing a moment in order to think if he was forgetting anything, he then glanced at Satoko, waiting for him to get his stuff done so they could go out... To wherever they were supposed to go. Igarashi didn't really worry to think about that, he just figured that Satoko might have a place in mind.

Satoko quietly slid in the room after Igarashi, depositing his Zanpakutou on the bed he had so recently grown accustomed to sleeping in at night, under the warmth of the sheets, safe at last from the cold of night. The change had been a welcome one, one Igarashi had shown him, beforehand Takeshi had always slept outdoors, under the starry sky. That was the only thing Takeshi missed about the outdoors; falling asleep under the star-speckled sky. The sky, Takeshi had always loved the sky, it always struck him as beautiful even when twisted with rage in a storm, unleashing a burden it can no longer carry down upon others. It was beautiful to him alwasy, much alike- "Never mind". Satoko mentally cut himself off from finishing that line of thought, he didn't feel like thinking on that line today; today was for him and Igarashi, not another day to spend lignering on thoughts that would surely turn sour.

Tearing himself from his mind, Takeshi gathered his relatively small savings of coins from his own drawers, where he also found an old weapon of his, a jagged knife with strange designs weaved across the side, long ago it had been stolen from a wealthy-looking fellow. And since then it had aided Takeshi frequently until he and Ryuunosuke reached the Academy together and the blade lost it's neccesity, but Takeshi had never ridded himself of it. Smiling at it a moment, Takeshi turned back to Igarashi, sticking the knife in the waist of his uniform so he could quickly access it should the need arise.

"Alright then, I've got everything I might need, let's head out!" Takeshi's voice was cheerier then the tone he usually kept it in, and it was evident from that slip of pleasant tone that he was excited for their outing; although he soon realized he had no idea where they were going. Blinking slightly, he racked his mind for any suitable place, nothing coming to mind very quickly. Finally he shrugged it off, thinking they could just find a steet of interesting buildings somewhere in the Ryukongai, there had to be something to do in a city this size. And the first idea of something to do came to Takeshi quickly, as they began walking, and eventually passed the gymnasium, and a memory stuck out out in the blonde teenager's mind.

"Hey, Igarashi, I'll race you to the Ryukongai!" A playful smirk on his face, Takeshi knew a little friendly competition like a race couldn't hurt, even if Igarashi was faster then him, this couldn't be a bad way to kick the evening off. And Satoko could probably at least keep up with Igarashi, right? Without thinking further, Takeshi took off running, Igarashi would have to keep up whether he wanted to or not; walking takes too long.

"Bwuh?" Satoko's challenge to a race took Igarashi by surprise. For one, despite looking far more cheerful than in past days, Satoko had still been rather quiet the whole time. And also, something else bothered Igarashi about having Satoko running of like that. "Hey! but where are we supossed to be goi-ah screw it, you're on blondie!" It was useless to worry further. Igarashi really wasn't one to turn down a challenge, and much less about something he knew he was good at. He could ask where they would be going later, as it was, Satoko had gained a considerable head start, and Igarashi wasn't going to let stay that way. Using one hand to hold the pouch he was carrying so it wouldn't fall of, Igarashi quickly began to follow the running Satoko, sprinting fiercely behind him.

"Ha! Come on, Igarashi, speed up!" Takeshi playfully taunted his friend as they raced towards the outskrits of the Ryukongai, fully awre that the only reason he was ahead of Igarashi was due to the head start he had grabbed. Regardless, Takeshi was having fun, and was confident Igarashi was enjoying himself as well, the wind blowing through both thier hair, the sights, scents and sounds around them flashing by after giving you just enough time to register them; it was one of the beauties of nature that Satoko adored so fantastically. Igarashi was gaining on him now, and Takeshi did his best to speed up, but couldn't really go any faster, instead he just smiled, a laugh of joy building up inside of him as the two Shinigami Cadets darted on, now nearing the Ryuukongai itself.
It was fun.

(Joint post made by Igarashi and Satoko, the dark red parts are written by Igarashi.)