Rogue12158
Hi there.
No own bleach, and it, along with my crappy swim times at my meet today, makes me want to slit my wrists. Enjoy.
"Alright class! Let's get started on our Baseball unit!!" The Phys. Ed. teacher shouted at the group of disgruntled teenagers.
The groans coming from that class could be heard all the way from space.
One student, however, didn't groan, nor share any negative feelings towards the mystery that was called Baseball.
This student merely cocked her head to the side, looking very confused as she scrunched her eyes at the rather large stack of pole-like sticks and round objects behind her teacher.
She watched as a few athletically gifted students walked up to the pile and grabbed some of the sticks, proceeding to swing them around at nothing.
Baseball? The concept was foreign to the shinigami. Millions of possible conclusions for the actions of the students were formulating in her head. Could they be using those sticks for some kind of violent act? Are the round... things... used for target practice? If so, why do they call it baseball...?
As many possible answers popped into her head, nothing quite made sense, and she was starting to get a headache from all the confusion.
A voice in her ear and a few light knocks to her head startled her out of her stupor. "Rukia, everything alright in there?" A few more knocks followed.
Rukia titled her head up to the source of the annoying knocking and saw a flash of blinding orange hair.
She, as was their tradition, kicked him in the shin as she turned to face him. "Me? Of course, Ichigo, whatever would make you say otherwise?" She said, louder than necessary, just to add another layer to her already thick 'sweet, kind girl' motif.
He stood back, frowning while stuffing his hands into his gym pants pockets. "Just the fact that you looked like if you thought any harder, you would have given yourself a brain aneurysm."
This time, instead of a kick to the shin, he got a punch to the gut. Needless to say, the subject was promptly dropped.
After the pain had subsided, Ichigo went over to the large stack of P.E. equipment with Rukia on his heels.
As she caught up with him, she asked, "Ichigo? What's baseball?"
He sighed in frustration. He really didn't like explaining trivial things like baseball. "It's a sport."
"I gathered that."
"Then why'd you ask?"
"'Cuz that's all I know about it," she, too, got annoyed with having him explain things to her. For one, she hated not knowing. After one hundred and fifty years of life, she would of liked to know things like baseball and how to open a damned juice box. And two, Ichigo really sucked at explaining things.
"It's simple, you'll figure it out as you go," he said, really not wanting to go into any details, their teacher was already mad at their lagging behind.
"Oh, okay."
But, unfortunately, Rukia was chosen to be on the team that was batting first... And was chosen to bat first. The thing that passed through Ichigo's mind when he discovered this revelation was, Damn, I wasn't planning on dying this fast... I thought for sure that I would die because of Kenpachi, not this!!
She hesitantly took one of the bats and held it tightly in one of her hands. The pitcher threw the ball and she, instead of hitting it, ducked and fell to the ground.
"Kuchiki!" The teacher yelled. "You have to hit the ball! Not duck! Try again!"
"It's simple, He said. You'll figure it out as you go..." She muttered under her breath. If she survived this class, he was dead.
This time, as the ball came towards her, she hit it. The stupid thing didn't go as far as she would've liked, but it went far enough. But, even though her swing was good, showing that she had grasped that concept of the game, she still had things to learn. Like running after the ball had been hit.
"Run Kuchiki! Run!" The teacher yelled at her again.
"Why?" She called back. I thought that you were just supposed to hit it...
"It's the object of the game!! You want to be able to make it around the bases without getting hit!"
"Why didn't you say that before?!"
"Just go Kuchiki!!"
"Fine!" She yelled, taking off in the direction of first base, baseball bat in hand as if it were her ZanpakutÅ.
The person on first base leaned to tag her with the baseball in his hand but before he could reach her, she had swung the bat at him, knocking him down flat on his back. There were rumors that she had rendered him unconscious and others that said she caused his organs permanent internal damage, but none of these were proven, at least, that's what her lawyer says.
At any rate, as he saw her mercilessly attacking the poor unsuspecting P.E. students, Ichigo thanked whatever god was up there that he was playing outfield, and allowed himself to emit a small chuckle at their expense.
After she massacred second base, the opposing team just decided to let her have the homerun, deciding that a stupid P.E. class game was not worth their lives.
When she made it back to home, she stood in one spot and innocently asked the teacher after noticing all of the horrified looks her classmates were giving her, "Did I win?"
That made this class worth coming to for Ichigo.
"Yes, Kuchiki, you won. Now go hit the showers," the teacher told her in an attempt to stop any future acts of violence to occur in her class. But if only she could have Kuchiki on her Varsity Baseball Team...
Hit the showers? Damn, this class is violent..., She thought as she walked back to the locker rooms slightly proud of herself.
XxXxXxXxX
Later that night when Rukia and Ichigo were about to go to bed, he muttered for the hundredth time that night, "Did I win?" He never thought that got old.
Rukia, however, got very tired of being made fun of, especially over something that she hadn't known a thing about. What happened was natural. She ran with a stick in hand and had to get past someone. The shinigami in her told her to bash their heads in. That class of students are lucky no one died.
"Shut up, Ichigo!!" She through the pillow at his head like it was a projectile missile. Once again, the subject was promptly dropped.
Well, I'm tired and your probably bored after reading the products of my depression, so leave a review, please. Reviews make me want to put down the razor blade before I slit my wrists. Thanks.