Chapter 3: Butterfly Wings Arc: Only to Wither

Summary:

Dreams seem made to be shattered. For some, they aren't shattered so much as shown to be nightmares.

Notes:

Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMii9q4qz0E ("Finest Hour" by Extreme Music)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Morning hit me like a sledgehammer. Mom practically rolled Shinji and me off our futons, nagging us into getting dressed at light speed. Blearily I stumbled through my morning routine, having to tie today's kimono's obi twice before I could remember that no, tying my shoes wasn't the same method. It took effort to get my geta on the right feet, and Mom had to help me comb my hair when I tried to do it with the teeth pointing the wrong way.

Looked like the body was the plaything of the soul. I'd been a night owl in my last incarnation and had somehow missed my clan's tendency to greet the day with a grin.

"Hey, Shinji," I muttered as we were ushered through the streets to Shin'ou, "you think we can hear our Zanpakutou this early? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that every part of me's saying to go back to sleep."

"It ain't early, stupid," he answered. "It's almost eleven. By the time we finish breakfast it'll be time."

Breakfast was refreshingly plain, a large bowl of rice porridge and a slightly smaller bowl of miso soup with some dried mackerel. The fishy taste got my brain to start working a little better, as did the walking. By the time we got to Shin'ou, I was capable of forming sentences that did not convey my desire to kill the sun.

The courtyard we were all ushered into was packed to the gills with people. Some people had had a much rougher night than us, judging from their rumpled looks. Others clearly had never bothered to go to sleep, as they reeked of sake. Family was allowed on campus today, so I got to listen to my parents' excited whispering as we joined the crowd.

"Advanced classes for Shinji, d'ya reckon?" My mom whispered. "And standard for Nariko?"

"Mm," my dad replied, too busy staring at the platform where teachers were gathering to really listen. A bald, bronze-skinned man walked up to the podium. The instant he raised up a scroll, a hush descended over the crowd.

"Abe, Sakurako. Abe, Ichigo. Abe, Kuukaku..."

I barely heard the rest of the names. Instead I tried to 'listen' to the rest of the crowd, to feel their reiatsu as it increased and decreased with joy and dismay depending on whose name was called or wasn't.

"Fugai, Minoru." When I heard Minoru's name, I couldn't help the startled, happy whoop I let out. He'd made it! I nearly hugged Shinji before realizing that I was the only one cheering. I dropped my eyes to the ground, heat flooding my face.

"Hayashi, Junko. Hayashi, Masayuki." Now we were reaching the H-names. I clenched my jaw, crossed all my fingers and toes, and sent up a few prayers to a God I wasn't exactly sure existed in this world. Please let me have made it! "Hidaka, Tatsuo. Hidaka, Saburo. Hidaka, Kohaku. Hirako, Nariko. Hirako, Shinji."

I didn't hear anything at all after that. Not my parents hugging me and laughing and praising every kami they knew. Not the applause from the crowd, and certainly not the other names read off.

I made it. All I could hear was my own heartbeat and those words. I made it. I just signed my own death warrant and gave myself the best life at the same time. I made it madeitmademadeitmadeit! Shinji's reiatsu washed over me, a plume of sunlight before he dialed it back. Slowly, tentatively, I let my hold on my reiryoku slip a little. Today was my day. No holding back. The crackling, wind-rain-waves-storm feeling of my reiryoku moving through my veins filled me. A smile so huge it hurt seized my features and I couldn't make it go away even if I wanted to. I was worth something. I wasn't weak, or pathetic, or anything like that.

When all the names had finally been read out, we hurried over to the placement list. Mom and Dad made use of Hirako obstinacy to elbow their way through, dragging Shinji and me along behind them. I held my breath, hoping beyond hope.

Beneath the list of 'Advanced' students for the 'Gotei Track' board, both Shinji's and my names were listed.

I should've been happy. And I was, somewhere deep within. But the first emotion that rode me was anger. I whirled to look my mom right in the eye and snapped, "There. See there, according to that list I am just as good as Shinji. Better." I pointed to my score, listed by my name. It was a full thirty points higher than Shinji's. "So don't talk about Shinji, Shinji, Shinji all the time. I did well too."

I stomped off, heading for the proctors handing out room assignments and course lists. I'd look over the courses later. For now I just wanted to get rid of the rage headache pounding in my head and maybe take the chance to be loud for a bit, celebrating with whoever I roomed with.

I was to live in the East Sode Boshi dorms, second floor and eighth room down on the left. I pushed my way through the gaggle of girls and found myself at a plain door, black-lacquered with the stylized kanji for eight on it in red. My home for the next seven years, I guessed.

I slid open the door expecting to find my belongings dumped by my futon. Instead, I was startled to find a tall ash-haired girl arranging my belongings into a neat pile. Hers were already unpacked, judging from the empty trunk and couple empty bags lying by the other bed. She turned when the door slid open, lips twitching into a small smile.

"Oh! I thought you'd get here just a little bit later than this, sorry," she said by way of greeting, straightening. "I'm Fujikage Shinju. Nice to meet you?" She said it like she didn't know whether I was a very nice person to meet or not.

"Hirako Nariko," I introduced myself. Well, of all the people to get as a roommate, it was nice to have a Fujikage. They were a Kuchiki-aligned minor noble family in Hokutan who stayed out of most politics, preferring to run a few farms and a couple textile businesses. "Did you organize my stuff?"

"I didn't have much else to do," she admitted, brushing her sheet of grey hair away from her face. "Um, if you want I could help you unpack. Unless you want to cool off a little bit and then do it; I could use the time to change into my uniform." Shinju pointed at the red-and-white Academy uniform lying on her futon. Another one had been draped over the end of my futon.

"Cool off?" I began to unlatch my trunks and hang my clothes in the wardrobe provided to us. Some of Shinju's clothing already hung there. "It's not as hot as yesterday, you know."

"Huh?" I could feel Shinju's innocent blink. "I just thought, you know, since you seem kinda upset..."

Oh. No wonder she wasn't sure about me. "Don't worry about it. I blew up at my mom earlier."

"Oh! Oh, good. Well not good, but I thought you might've wanted a different roommate." Shinju held up a red shitagi. "I wonder where they get this fabric. It doesn't feel like anything I've handled."

I started unpacking, unloading the few kimonos, kanzashi, and obi I'd brought. Makoto had tried to make me take more, but I really didn't want to lug around more crap than I needed. There wasn't much of a chance that I'd be wearing the ones I'd brought anyway. Academy uniforms were similar to Shinigami uniforms in that they were acceptable at most events, if uncreative. "Color's kinda familiar. I think that might be a Hirako dye."

"Really? I forgot that your clan works with dyes too," she said, carefully undressing so as not to ruin her outfit. "Did you hear about a mistake with the Lady Kira's juunihitoe? The hitoe was too blue, so we had to switch it for a greener version at the last minute."

We talked like that for a while as I set out my personal belongings and changed into my uniform, discussing our favorite shades and debating the merits of various patterns.

"...but the Raw Silk Wisteria just seems somewhat unrefined. I mean, it's not if you ask most people, but I don't like that the silk is so incomplete-looking, you know?" Shinju said as we left our room at last.

I hummed, thinking for a second about how to not offend her. "I gotta say that I like the uniqueness," I admitted, tying my hair back into a loose ponytail with a ribbon. "But I wish the red-orange that one uses for the hitoe was used for the karaginu more often. It's so fiery. I used to have a yukata that color, but I grew out of it."

"Too bright for me," Shinju said as we stepped out into the afternoon air. "But to each their own. What division do you think you'll want when we graduate?"

A startled laugh burst out of me. Think? I knew exactly which one I wanted to join and which one I had to. I'd known for years. "Maa, I'm not going to think about that now. We haven't even had our first class. You know what you want already?"

"Hmm." Shinju tilted her head back, letting the sunlight spill over her face. Despite being tall and calm from what I'd seen of her, Shinju had a surprisingly impish face, with high cheekbones, a short chin, and a broad forehead. Her height and features seemed almost at odds, but considering the small size of the Fujikage clan it wouldn't surprise me if one parent had been from outside the clan—a low-rank Shihouin, maybe. It was hard to say without knowing any other members of her family. "The Third would suit me really well, I think, since I already know how to work with colors. But my brother Kohaku's the Eleventh Seat of the Tenth and he brings back all these stories about the people there. They're really hard-working and thoughtful, you know, so I want to go there."

"Heyyy, firsties!" A voice called out. Shinju and I turned to see someone whose face made my heart stop.

Slender and pale-skinned, Kuna Mashiro hadn't yet filled out in the way I knew she would. Her hair, so cartoonishly green that it should've been illegal, was long enough to be held back bandana-style by the deep pink scarf I vaguely remembered from Turn Back the Pendulum.

I couldn't have pointed to what made this Mashiro starkly different from the one I remembered. The physical differences barely gave me pause; she was still immediately recognizable as Mashiro. But there was a certain innocence to her features, instead of...what was it I had seen in her Before? It was a certain drive to win, to be better than the person next to her, but more than that, a need to survive and challenge. Bloodlust, almost.

I shivered despite the warm weather. I hoped with all my heart that it was simply a reflex born out of a century being attacked by onmitsu and battling her inner Hollow. But if it wasn't, if it was survival instincts amplified by the Hollow, I was going to have a very unpleasant time trying to keep my personality mine.

"Hey! Come with meee, you dumb newbies!" Mashiro shrilled, bounding over to us. "There's going to be an orientation assembly-thing! With all the teachers there and everything! And I'm supposed to grab any firsties I see and bring them, so come on! Don't you know that you can't refuse an awesome upperclassman like me?!" She skipped off just as soon as she'd finished talking, clearly expecting us to follow. I rubbed my ears. No wonder Kensei had trouble dealing with her.

I glanced over at Shinju, whose mouth formed an 'O' of surprise. If I hadn't known what she would be like already, I would've had my jaw on the ground too. The Mashiro Experience, as I decided to dub it, was interesting. Not fascinating interesting, the interesting that people everywhere to mean weird. We followed wordlessly.

Mashiro led us to a hall much like the one we'd taken our exams in, rows of seats and desks fanning out from a central stage. A lot of other first-years were there, chattering away.

"Okay, so this is it!" Mashiro announced, flinging her arms out to encompass the whole hall and nearly hitting an unfortunate first-year in the face. "I'm going to leave now 'cause this is super-boring and I'm a fourth-year with better things to do. So you two be good and remember my name, okay? I'm Kuna Mashiro, the best Hakuda user in my entire year! Believe it!" She flounced off as soon as she had finished again.

"Is it really so hard to have a conversation for a second longer than you have to?" I said dubiously, staring after her. "I mean, she could've waited for us to say thanks."

"I think Kuna-senpai probably just assumes that everyone's grateful to her," Shinju replied with a wry twist of her mouth. "Let's find a seat, okay?"

I scanned the area around us, looking for Shinji, and found that he'd already found a spot in a completely-full row. I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head and kept looking. Maybe...?

Sure enough, Minoru stood by the doors, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to take a seat or not.

"Fujikage-san," I asked her, "do you want to sit with that kid?" I canted my head towards Minoru. "I kinda met him before the exam and said I'd show him the ropes."

"Sure, I guess," she replied with a slight lift of the shoulders. We threaded our way through the crowd until Minoru was in earshot.

"Hey, Fugai-san!" I called as we neared him.

Minoru whirled so fast that he nearly fell over. "Huh? Wha- oh, it's you. Narin-san?" He hazarded, blinking at me like a lost puppy.

"Nariko," I corrected. "Shinji's the only one who gets to call me Narin, and even that I whack him one for it."

"Oh, o-okay," Minoru said. "I reckoned that I wouldn't catch a look at ya after the exam, y'know."

"Who's this?" Shinju inserted herself into the conversation effortlessly. "Do you know each other?" Only a slight wrinkling of her features revealed that Shinju wasn't completely okay with associating with a high-district kid.

"Minoru-san—or Fugai-san, whichever you want—meet Fujikage Shinju," I introduced them. "Fujikage-san's my roommate. Fujikage-san, I met him before the exam and gave him a couple tips on life here."

Poor Minoru couldn't even look Shinju in the eye. Scuffing his feet, he said, "N-nice to meet you, Fujikage-san?" He sent me a look that said he didn't know whether his honorific was right.

Shinju took it well enough, though. "Fujikage-san's right. I'm a second daughter and not even main family, so there's no reason for anything like -sama." She laughed. "Imagine that, me getting a Fujikage-sama. My family's not all that powerful, Fugai-san, don't worry. And even if we were, every student's supposed to be equal at Shin'ou."

"Supposed ta be," Minoru scoffed, then clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes going so wide I thought his eyeballs would roll out. "I-I mean, I-ah-"

"It's like Fujikage-san said, don't worry about it," I assured him. "Everybody knows how things really work. Just use -san for our classmates and if they get mad, play up the puppy eyes and tell them an upperclassman told you how to address them."

He half-smiled, hand dropping back to his side. "I'll do that. And Minoru-san works just fine. I think the Academy bigwigs just gave me my district as a placeholder family name anyway."

Shinju nodded wisely. "That's custom. You can go change it if you find a better one, I think. Hirako-san, there are a few seats open over there." She nodded at a handful of seats over towards the wall.

We took three of those seats, squeezing past the people who wouldn't deign to slide over. I sat between Minoru and Shinju, swinging my legs back and forth.

"So, um, Fujikage-san, how do you write your name?" Minoru asked. "The kanji for 'truth' in your given name, but then what?"

"Actually, my name means 'pearl,'" she told him. "My family name's written as 'wisteria' and 'shadow.'" Shinju smiled wistfully. "There're these beautiful wisteria vines all over back home, so I guess that's where it came from."

"But doesn't your brother's name mean 'truth?'" Minoru asked, glancing at me. "Shinji-san?"

"Yes," I explained patiently. "But that's because there're two kanji in his name, and the one for truth reads as 'shin.' It's not the only meaning for that sound."

"Oh," he muttered, staring at his hakama. "That... huh. Nariko-san, is there a chance ya could-"

Minoru didn't get to finish as the bald man from before strode onto the stage and boomed, "Quiet down!"

It was as though he'd cast a Kidou over the whole room. Complete silence.

"I am Ounabara Gengorou, head teacher of the accelerated class for the prospective Gotei students and headmaster of the Shin'ou Academy," he said, voice carrying to the back of the room as clearly as if I was right in front of him. I wondered idly if there was a class on how to do that voice. "From the moment your enlistment was announced, you belonged to me, to this school. I do not expect that you all ascend to great rank in your chosen services. I do not even expect that you all survive your time at the Academy." He paused for effect, sweeping his gaze across the students. "But I do expect that you all devote your souls to the ancient and honorable duty that we train you for. I expect that you forge within yourselves the resolve and strength to defend the Court of Pure Souls with your lives." I winced. Two sentences and he'd hit us with more moral and social pressure than I could've put into an essay. I sneaked a glance at Minoru and Shinju. Both wore exactly the sort of rise-to-the-challenge, star-struck expressions Ounabara had probably been going for.

"The path of a Shinigami is not easy. Every one of you could've chosen civilian lives, free from danger and pain. And the great majority of people do make that choice. There is no shame in a civilian path. They are as essential as the earth we walk on." Ounabara's voice rose. "But you few, you are fire! And the life of a Shinigami is a life of honor, a calling that brings glory and power with its danger and pain. Your service to the Central 46 and to all Soul Society is what keeps Hueco Mundo's beasts at bay and the Living World in its rhythms." I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. 'Chosen few' mentality, check. 'Special snowflake,' check. 'Rewards that outweigh costs,' check. 'Demonizing the other side while glorifying ours,' check, even though Hollows really were more demonic than Hell's Togabito. And a nice dollop of 'all-important responsibility' on top of it all. Persuasion that would've toppled me if I was anyone but me, if I really was just a regular noble kid, starry-eyed and ready to be a hero. As it was, I wanted to believe him more than anything I'd ever wanted in both my lives. No wonder Shinigami were so blindly loyal. They were told from enrollment that duty and responsibility were everything. If they didn't serve the Central 46, they were worthless. And then Shinigami retired and had kids, or led their clans, or brought back stories for impressionable nieces and nephews and those beliefs sank into the core of the culture.

"I have invested my life into training the next protectors of Soul Society." Ounabara's voice had gone quiet, but its intensity wasn't lessened. "I have invested my life into each and every person who wears the uniform right now, into every person who serves Soul Society for the past two and a half centuries. And looking out at every face here, I see the potential for greatness in every one of you, whether a Kuchiki prince or a Zaraki urchin. Do not fail me, this Academy, Soul Society by not striving to reach the peak of that potential. Do not fail yourselves."

I didn't hear any more of his speech. The nausea produced by his words returned in force. I bolted from the hall, missing the bushes outside and heaving up last night's dinner and today's breakfast-lunch all over the path. When my sides stopped heaving, I wobbled to my feet, wiping the back of my mouth with my hand. Cautiously, I inched over towards the side of the hall and slid down, back against it.

When I could think straight, the dizziness fading, I knew I had to add another part to my plan: keep Shinji from being brainwashed. And Minoru and Shinju, while I was at it. The last part of Ounabara's speech was guaranteed to appeal to both. Shinju would like the idea of becoming great despite her place in her clan; Minoru would love the idea that his background didn't matter. But Shinji came first. I'd heard what felt like centuries ago that after losing everything, a person could never replace it all. There would always be pieces missing. If I could do anything to keep a few pieces in place, I had to.

I sat there for a while, focused on just breathing. I didn't bother going back in even when I felt well enough to. The grass was soft, the sun warm. If I shut out what was happening in the building at my back, I could trick myself into relaxing.

"Hey, firstie bitch. What got you so rattled?" A nasal voice said. I glared up at the person standing above me and nearly started laughing.

Yamada Seinosuke looked very little like his brother, sharing hair color and a fair skin tone and nothing else. No, that wasn't quite right—his blue eyes were the same color as Hanatarou's, but they were narrow and sharp instead of wide and innocent. His face was the same way, long with cheekbones sharp enough to match a Zanpakutou and a smirk that he probably thought looked cool.

Knowing that he'd eventually get replaced by Isane, an adorable and strangely effective mouse of a woman, made it hard to take him seriously.

"Maybe it's your ugly face, upperclassman," I told him. Oh dear Lord, did I just use 'your face' as an insult? I gotta update my repertoire. "Screw off."

His jaw dropped, like I'd expected it to, face turning some very interesting colors. What I didn't expect was his hand shooting out and grabbing my kosode, hauling me up.

"What'd you say, you punk-ass bitch?" He hissed. Seinosuke's spit speckled my face. "You wanna get punished your first day of school? Damn, firsties get more and more uppity each year." He practically threw me to the ground. "Show some respect and I might let you get away with it, bitch."

I registered the pain building in my head dully as I picked myself up. First time I can forgive. Second time I start to get pissed. Third time and he's dead. I drew myself up to my full height of 165 centimeters, cold fire coursing through my frame, and snarled, "How about you show some respect, Yamada. You're the one who wanted to pick a fight with a first-year." Shut up shut up you're going to get in trouble- "Say you're sorry and your bruises will only last a week." Shit.

Later I'd thank God for blessing Seinosuke with such amazing arrogance. He sputtered curses for long enough that I could drop into a crescent stance, then attacked with a swipe-punch mix that Shin'ou really should've trained him out of by now. I swatted his arm away and sank deeper into my stance as he launched a kick at my head. I grabbed his leg with one hand, jabbing him in the ribs with a full-moon fist. The follow-up backfist to the face I tried was met by Seinosuke's forearm, arms finally up to block. Double shit! I switched tactics on a dime, driving another full-moon fist into his kidney. Seinosuke's hook punch swung around so fast his sleeve brushed my head as I ducked beneath. Fuckfuckfuck thank God he overcommits- I slammed a crescent palm into his exposed back. Another full-moon to the ribs and he swore loudly. My heart almost stopped when I saw his face go white with adrenaline. I had to end this nownownow. He staggered away from the full-moon punch I threw at his head, spitting curses, and again when I tried for the back of his head.

My dad had told Shinji and me several times during training that the smartest thing to do when faced with an opponent of unknown skill was run. That made me really fucking stupid, even more stupid to get confident.

So I was completely unprepared for the wild swing Seinosuke took at me. His forearm smashed into the side of my head. Stars burst across my vision as I staggered away, muscle memory the only thing keeping my hands up to block. Shit he's gonna strike! My brain shrieked.

Crack.

Seinosuke had made the mistake of forgetting his environment. As he lunged in to take advantage of Shifting Moon Style's weak point, his leading foot came down the wrong way on the vomit-covered path. He slid, overcorrected with windmilling arms, and toppled backwards. I cringed as his head slammed against the stone.

As luck would have it, the assembly let out right about then. A student pushed through the doors, foot coming down on Seinosuke's hand with a crunch. The poor kid shouted in surprise, jerking back. At least Seinosuke only twitched; the fall had, luckily for me, knocked him out.

A teacher came running, shoving through the mass of students and finding Seinosuke lying prone on the ground. When his eyes landed on me, I flinched as if Seinosuke'd hit me again. I'm going to be in such deep shit.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting seiza in Ounabara's office besides Seinosuke as a fifth-year healed the worst of his injuries. Not all, though—Ounabara apparently wanted Seinosuke to hurt as a reminder of the rule against fighting. Me the fifth-year left untouched, beyond a few questions to see if I had a concussion.

"Fighting on the first day of school," he boomed, shaking his head. The air was thick with his spirit pressure, solid and rough like a boulder. It would've worked better if I hadn't felt Shinji's spirit pressure earlier and knew there was no comparison. "I would've expected it from a high-district. I would've expected it of one of those thuggish young men who aspire to the Eleventh, or even a young man spoiled by his family's wealth into believing that the rules would ignore him. But not from a young Hirako lady with designs on the Third!"

"You read my application, sir?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. What the hell? Why?

"We may call in outside help for grading, but the teachers here review applications as well. By blind chance I ended up with yours," he said with another head shake. "I never imagined-!"

"Let's get the full story," the teacher who'd found us suggested gently. A gaunt-bodied but baby-faced man, he brushed shaggy purple hair out of his face. "Perhaps Yamada-kun simply slipped and fell?"

The bruises on my face would beg to differ.

"She attacked me!" Seinosuke yelped. "I made to help her up and she cursed at me and attacked me out of the blue!" He outlined a tale in which I'd insulted him and his family for pitying me when I'd been sick and then attacked him when he raised his hands to show that he didn't want any trouble.

"...but of course she doesn't need to be expelled," he concluded. "It's only her first day and all, and nobody's quite themselves when they're sick."

I bit my lip hard, waiting until Ounabara's stern stare turned to me for my side.

"No, I don't need to be expelled," I said as sweetly as I could manage, "because that's not what happened at all. I was sick before he found me, but when he appeared I was just waiting for the assembly to be over." i'd learned long ago to present the facts as clearly as possible and in a good deal of detail. People who whined tended to get overlooked. "Yamada-san swore at me as he asked why I was sitting there. I made the mistake of insulting him back because I was irritated and feeling sick. However Yamada-san took it too far by grabbing me by my shirt and lifting me off the ground. He implied that I was stuck-up and cursed at me twice more, then told me that if I apologized respectfully he wouldn't report me. Since he wasn't acting in a way that deserved respect, I told him to respect me as he was the aggressor and asked him to apologize. Admittedly, I did tell him that if he apologized he would have bruises only for a week, which was a mistake." My fists clenched by my sides. "He attacked me after that. I attempted to block but then didn't know what to do because my clan style focuses on offense and defense at the same time. I then fought back. Yamada-san got in a lucky hit on me, but he was knocked out by the ground, not me." I tried to arrange my expression into one of chagrin. "He slipped on my, um, vomit, sir. So sensei was right about that."

"Oshiro-sensei," the man in question put in with a kind smile. I thought I might be able to like him, even after this incident.

Ounabara glared at both of us. "Yamada, Is this the case? I remind you both that lying again will result in doubled punishment."

"No!" Seinosuke burst out instinctively before red stained his face. "I-I mean yes, sir."

Ounabara grunted, clasping his hands in front of him. "Then I may make my verdict. Hirako, you are to receive double Hakuda classes for the next month and to assist whichever Hakuda teachers require help for the next two months. Hopefully you will learn enough beyond Shifting Moon to handle situations in a less aggressive manner. Yamada, for lying to me you will clean up all the Kidou ranges indefinitely. For insulting a student before provocation and attacking her, you will take classes with the Kidou Corps prospectives on meditation for the next four months that you may learn some self-control."

"But sir, I have Paperwork at that time!" Seinosuke protested.

Ounabara frowned mightily. "Your Administrative Abilities teacher will be informed of your occupation. She will have a classmate give you the coursework and notes so that you may make it up on your own time." I pursed my lips together to avoid laughing. Administrative Abilities? Really? "You are hereby dismissed."

Seinosuke and I stood, bowing low with Oshiro-sensei. As a group we backed out of the room. Oshiro-sensei ducked into another office with an admonition to the both of us to 'be good.' Seinosuke and I were left standing in the hallway.

"Horse-teeth punk," he muttered, clipping me with his shoulder as he set off first.

I didn't have a response to that, so I headed in the opposite direction without a word.

As it turned out, I didn't know where the heck I was going. I managed to find a dining hall only by following the sound of students chattering. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that fighting made me hungry.

I caught up with Shinji by sheer luck. Sliding into the crowd, I bumped him with my shoulder. "Hi, dork. I miss anything?"

He flashed a smile. "'Sides a lecture about not fightin'? Not a thing. What's your punishment now, troublemaker?"

I elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm not a troublemaker! But I have to take double Hakuda for a month and help out the Hakuda teachers for two months. You should've seen Yamada. He tried lying to Ounabara-sensei and now he gets to clean Kidou ranges until they tell him to stop and take meditation classes."

Shinji snickered as we entered the dining hall. "For serious? Dang, maybe you were holdin' back in training."

I smirked at him. "I never say anything I don't mean, Shin. Do you want to sit with your roommate?"

"Who, Aizen? Nah, he's no fun. Gave me this scared-deer look the second I got to the room and didn't say anything but his name. I tried to talk to him, I swear. But he's kinda weird, y'know? I think he even scurried off before the assembly," Shinji said.

Aizen.

Aizen Sousuke was here.

Aizen fucking Sousuke was here.

And he was a student.

Fuck.

Notes:

And so the first chapter title haiku finishes! No, really. Put together the titles of the first three chapters and you get a haiku.

If you want to know what exactly Nariko's talking about when it comes to her clan style, Shifting Moon, look up Shaolin Leopard kung fu. Whether we see more of it remains to be, er, seen, but rest assured it's not all rebranded kung fu. There're influences from other martial arts as well. Her stance, for instance, is a real Shotokan karate stance, even if my school usually calls it half-moon. And her 'full-moon fist' is a leopard paw punch. The 'crescent palm' is a good ol' palm-heel strike by another name.

Note: the first three chapters were all originally one ginormous chapter. Please enjoy the truncated version.