A/N: So after much deliberation, I've finally put up the first chapter of this alt-universe tale of Kaien and Rukia. It is told through the eyes of an insecure schoolgirl--Rukia--who doesn't really know any better. Or maybe she does, and is just not using her best judgment...maybe you can decide as you read further.
(The trial-run version of this can be found in the form of a little one-shot vignette under my 'drabbles' story, "From Seireitei to Hueco Mundo". Although the setting isn't either of those... At any rate, it's the 3rd one within that file, please feel free to go check it out.)

Disclaimer: Kubo-sensei, would you consider giving me the ownership of Bleach for my birthday? Pleease? ..."No"? Oh. Ah well, it wasn't gonna work anyway. Sigh.

Prologue

It shouldn't have happened.

That's what I keep telling myself. Looking back on the whole thing now makes me feel like an idiot. An immature, impulsive idiot. Then again... I did know that things weren't quite right, that things could never have turned out too well. I at least knew that—even back then, back in the midst of it all.

But if so, if I really had sensed that there was only a dead end lying in wait, and things still turned out this way... Then did that make me a masochist instead? Or maybe an even bigger idiot?

Either way... It just shouldn't have happened.

I shouldn't have let it happen. And it should not have happened, period.

But it did.

And my face still burns with shame.

Secret 1: Saisho.

He'd entered my world something like a haphazard diver, plunging with a splash into the stagnant deep end my life had been... A little chaotically, with a lot of impact.

{And in hindsight, the instant that happened was the instant we'd both started sinking. Sinking, flailing…and drowning.}

My thoughts were scattered by the sudden sound of books and papers being slapped onto a desk. Startled, I looked up—and saw the desk happened to be the huge oak one up in front, the one our homeroom teacher used.

For the first second or two my brain didn't really register it; after all, Ukitake-sensei never made entrances like that. He'd always breeze on in, smiling jovially like there'd never been a better morning. Greeting the class like we weren't about to be subjected to another day of, well, learning. You either loved or hated him for that. For most of us, it was both.

Good-natured? He was practically oozing it. In a gentle, understated way—which only changed when his thrill with candy was involved. He almost seemed to slide into class, each and every time.

But wait... this wasn't even our sensei!

The guy had crash-landed in our class, jarring us out of our morning daze. And Whoever-He-Was, standing right in the same spot Ukitake would, began to speak.

"Yo, how's it going, class? Everyone's psyched to start to the day, right?" He paused, full of energy, half-jokingly waiting for a response.

With my class's enthusiasm around this time of day, it wasn't surprising that there was a long, dull, awkward silence.

"...'Kay then, I'll take that as a 'not really'..." Still sporting a vibrant little half-smile, he turned around, took a few steps to the board, and snatched up a piece of chalk. "From now on..." he began, marking swiftly on the board what looked like the start of some kanji, "...I will be with this class..."

He kept writing, making more strokes that were rushed and hard to read. Our class sat in silence, not wanting to think that something might've happened to our previous teacher—he'd never been in good health, and we all knew it. I gulped.

"...along with Ukitake-sensei..." At last, he underlined the characters on the board with a sweeping brisk stroke of finality. "As a student teacher."

I gave a small sigh of relief along with the rest of the class. School without our Ukitake would've been like...well...life without ice cream, or something. But there were other matters at hand—

The sensei-in-training tapped a knuckle against his writing on the board, which happened to spell his name: "I'm Shiba Kaien, everyone. Nice to meet you guys." And with that, he bent forward to bow. As soon as he'd snapped back up, he added "—Oh, and that's Shiba-sensei to you all, by the way. If—oh hey, you're here!"

We all turned to the room's back entrance to see none other than Ukitake-sensei shakily closing the sliding door behind him. "Hello there, Shiba-san! Oh, class—I'm awfully sorry; I should've told someone I'd be having a clinical appointment today." I groaned in unison with my classmates. Did he do this stuff just to mess with us?

"Anyway... oh, you've already introduced yourself, have you then? Man, Shiba-san's really on top of the game, isn't he, class?" Ukitake was nodding and smiling to us all as he strolled up front, like there was no way anyone could say no. Which was true.

A slight flush appeared on Kaien—no, Shiba-sensei's cheeks, I figured because of getting praised his first few minutes as a fledgling teacher. (But we were used to that sort of open warmth…Ukitake was Ukitake, after all.) That reaction was kind of endearing, actually. A tiny grin started to tug at the corners of my mouth.

Now both teachers, older and younger, were standing together at the front. "...Also," Ukitake cut in, as if he'd forgotten something, "you can look forward to your art classes since Shiba-san, our wonderful art major here, will be aiding there too. Please treat him nice, 'kay?" He winked at our class, knowing we couldn't refuse him, and proceeded to launch into some teacher-to-teacher planning or pep talk with Shiba-sensei.

While everyone else shuffled around their stuff and got ready for our first class, I took the chance to get a better look at the guy who'd just taken center stage in our classroom life.

This Shiba Kaien was a pretty lively man…you could just feel it in the way something radiated from him. Even in the totally commonplace talk he was having right now, it was there. Maybe it was the way he held himself, maybe it was the slight smile and nod he kept giving, maybe he just wore his heart on his sleeve. Maybe it couldn't be explained.

After I'd been struck by this guy's strong verve, the first thing that caught my eye was the pitch-black hair standing up in jagged spikes around his head. I couldn't think of any teacher I'd ever seen with that kind of look... then again, he wasn't one of the old fogeys, so it didn't seem out-of-place on him. After the first couple minutes, I discovered he had a habit of running one hand's fingers through some hair—whether he did it from being nervous or idle, I had no clue.

Then I'd noticed his strong frame and features. His jawline, just as sturdy as the rest of him, made it seem like he always had some sort of curt retort ready to be fired off at whoever decided to mess with him—whether this was actually true or not, again I had no clue.

...And then the little details started leaping out... his pronounced lower eyelashes, the twinkle in the eyes those lashes framed, the funny bump in his nose, and then his soft-looking l—li—

—That's when I'd caught myself and wondered why the heck I was studying Shiba-sensei more closely than my books! What if it came off like I was staring? ...I was staring!

I wrenched my eyes away, looking down at my papers just as the bell sounded. Exhaling tensely, I tucked a lock of my short dark hair behind one ear and prayed that no one saw me. That would probably bring on more teasing that I just did not need.

After this, I didn't really feel like dealing with the rest of the school day. Art was every third day; it could be something to look forward to tomorrow. Our actual teacher had been on maternity leave for a couple of weeks, and lately we'd had either bad substitutes or no class at all.

But Shiba-sensei seemed like he could actually make the class a captivating one—he himself was captivating, for sure... No! I'm not thinking like that again! I smacked myself mentally.

Most of the class was trickling out to go to their lockers or chat, and I followed suit, not indulging in one last little glimpse back. After all, I was pretty lucky not to get caught watching the first time, wasn't I?

What I didn't know was that Shiba-sensei was the one tossing a glance over as I shuffled out of the classroom, bad posture and all. His look was one of both concern and intrigue.

That's what I didn't know... that I wasn't the only one watching.

A/N: For anyone curious, "saisho" means the beginning or start of something.
Oh, and reviews make me happy; they are food for the soul. +points in direction of review button+ You know you want to...