It was an exhausting day today. Tatsuki had already beaten 7 people when she was told to run seven times around the dojo with those she had beaten. Being with them was worse than doing it alone because she had to watch out for straying feet that intended to trip her. Then when it was time to go, she had been ganged up on just outside the locker room by the very same newbies. Evidently they were sore losers and thought that numbers mattered to Tatsuki. The worst part was while she was walking home, she felt as if she was being watched. After a few minutes, she ran the rest of the way home, hoping that the kids who she'd beaten twice would be smart enough to not follow her home. The tingling on the back of her neck stopped, so she thought it safe to assume she was correct. She arrived at her house and, after locking the door, hardly made it to her bedroom before her knees buckled and she fell into deep slumber before she could feel the ground break her nose.
Where am I thought Tatsuki. She opened her eyes to see a padded floor no more than an inch away from them. She jumped up as fast as she could in self defense before she realized that a padded floor couldn't hurt her without any aid. She looked around. I'm in a dojo her eyes told her. But not one I've ever been in before. The room before her was remarkable; it had floors padded with deep red foam, walls covered with a wide range of weapons and plaques, and several sets of equipment sorted by use in the center of the room. The ceiling was nowhere to be found.
Tatsuki started to circle the room. It seemed that three of the walls contained a theme of weapons and blank awards. The east wall displayed weapons that focused around close combat and secret attacks. The wall included several weapons, from a giant pair of barbaric looking fists to a full set of small kunai throwing knives, a round shield with a sharpened edge to a curved, hollow blade shaped in the image of a bee's stinger. A human-sized target was placed against the wall. It had white rings that circled places of the body that seemed the most inconvenient locations to place a punch; places that would more likely break a finger or two than actually hurt the opponent. But the most odd-looking piece of steel was a pair of one-bladed swords that looked completely normal except for the fact that the blade itself curved from the hilt 270 degrees, covering the area where the knuckles would line up. These swords were crossed in front of what looked like a black kimono that emitted a faint aura enough to tell someone that it was special somehow. Tatsuki knew that she wanted to touch them like a 5-year-old wants to touch every toy in the aisle of a toy store.
Tatsuki reached up, took the swords off of the wall, and held them with the blade resting comfortably against the back of her lower arm. The weapons seemed to conform to her, as if it was the perfect weapon for her. Wow. She put the swords down and took down the kimono, somehow knowing that it was okay for her to do so. She put it on over the gi that she was wearing. As soon as she let go of the hem, it started to glow.
What the heck!
The light receded after a couple seconds and revealed that the kimono had completely disappeared. Instead, the gi that she had been wearing was dyed pitch black and now irradiated the same aura that the kimono had. Tatsuki picked up the swords again and had a sudden rush of bravado, as if she now held all of what she needed to best the world and the rest of her life. That feeling was quickly replaced by a bout of light-headedness. Tatsuki slumped to the floor and lay on her side, prepared to wait the sudden illness through.
Tatsuki opened her eyes to find a floor soaked with blood. Her blood.
"AAAHHH!" Tatsuki found herself leap to the bed in fright. She checked the time: 8:29 AM, just before the alarm. She checked her nose: somehow completely healed correctly but still covered in dried blood. She checked the floor: a pool of dried blood showed where she had recently spent the night and confirmed on thing. The dojo was a dream. She didn't have any curved blades.
She laughed and sighed inside at the same time. She thought it was funny that she thought a ridiculous thing like that had actually happened but at the same time thought it was sad because she had really liked those swords. Oh well she thought as she got up to change out of her sweaty karate uniform. One look at herself in the mirror changed her mind about almost everything she had decided upon that morning.
I'd rather show this perfectly clean, black gi to Orihime.