I do not own Bleach. Nor am I creative enough to design a new world, so I am borrowing Soul Society for a few turns around the block. It will be returned unharmed.

REGRESSION

Continuation of Shinigami cup 112: Kira, Renji, and Hisagi walking down the hallway, talking about Iba who is studying Hisagi in order to command respect from his squad.

"Posture, Iba. It's all about posture. You can wear sunglasses to look cool, but if your posture stinks, then no one will respect you. Here, let me show you." A dark-haired Shinigami got up from his chair and placed a hand in the small of Tetsuzaemon Iba's back. A sharp shove, a painful crack, and Iba's eyes flew open like saucers.

"Hisagi, you're killing me here. That hurt!"

"Aw, what's the matter, Iba? Can't take it?" A tattooed red-head of a Shinigami elbowed the pale blue-eyed blond sitting next to him on the sofa, snickering. "See, Kira? I told you Iba was a pansy."

"You can be so callous at times, Renji." The blond looked away distastefully. "You have no class at all. Get your feet off the coffee table."

It was unusual for all four of the Shinigami vice captains to have the day off together. To celebrate, they had decided to gather in the community rec room of the Soul Society and play some pool, darts or cards, or just shoot the breeze. They had agreed that it felt better to be inside lounging than to be outside training in the summer heat. Tomorrow would bring time for that. Today was a day of play, and Shinigami could play as hard as they fought. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference.

The first to arrive that afternoon had been Izuru Kira, blond vice captain of the third division of the Gotei 13. He had arrived early to set up the coffee pot, a vital necessity even on hot days like today. Then came Renji Abarai, tattooed, confident red-head from the sixth division, accompanied by sunglass-wearing posture victim Tetsuzaemon Iba of the seventh division. The last to arrive, a departure from his usual promptness, had been the handsome, but scarred and tattooed Shuuhei Hisagi of the ninth division, who muttered under his breath about the day already being off to a bad start.

"No class, huh? Hey, when I was alive," Renji bragged, "I had plenty of class. I was a high roller, big money, Cadillac, all the perks. And all the babes I could handle."

"Pah, Renji. You don't know that," Iba huffed between Hisagi's pushes and shoves at his physique. The shorter man reached up and tugged roughly at Iba's flat-top. "Watch the hair, Dude." He swatted the offending hand.

Hisagi threw both hands in the air and backed away with a slight bow. "Hey, you're the one that wanted to learn from ol' Shuuhei. I'm just showing you how to do it. I'm telling you, Iba, it's all about posture and how you carry yourself."

Iba was beginning to regret having asked Hisagi's advice on how to command respect from his division, a struggle for him, but something Hisagi unquestionably had from his. Renji and Izuru sipped their first cups of coffee and watched in amusement as Hisagi poked and prodded, putting the big man through enough pain to make him wonder why he had opened his mouth.

"Posture? Come on, Hisagi, there's got to be more to it than that. I'm already taller than most of the guys in my squad," Iba pouted.

"Taller, but not smarter," smirked Renji to Kira under his breath.

"You are so mean," reprimanded the blond.

"It's true, ain't it?" asked the redhead.

"I didn't say it wasn't, now did I?" countered the blond with a chuckle.

"Hey knock it off. You guys are making fun of me, and I don't like it." Iba puffed out his chest to give some weight to his words.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" The sharp rap on the back from Hisagi sent Iba's breath flying. "Posture, Iba! Your posture showed 'em who was boss. See what I mean?"

"Oooo, I'm cowering in my seat!"

"Shut up, Renji," Shuuhei commanded.

"Yes, Mr. Teacher Man," whimpered Renji, sarcastically.

"But Shu, I don't feel good all puffed up like this. It ain't natural," whined Iba, neck craned, chin held a little too high.

"With practice, it'll come more naturally, Iba, I promise," Shuuhei observed his friend's effort, "just don't force it."

"You promise?! I feel like a poser, practicing all this proper posture! If you're playing with me, pal, I'm gonna pound you!"

"Quit protesting, you're spitting alliteration all over my shoes."

"Alliter-what?"

"Alliteration, Moron. Words beginning with the same sounds used in close proximity to each other. Alliteration!" Shuuhei rolled his eyes and headed towards the counter for a cup of coffee.

Kira and Renji laughed hysterically. "You really do sound like a teacher now, Hisagi!"

"Either that, or a walking dictionary!"

Seeing an opportunity for a little revenge, Iba taunted, "Hey, Hisagi, maybe you taught pre-school when you were alive," emphasizing the word pre-school.

Shuuhei shot a threatening look at the moron triplets as they laughed. "Then I should have no trouble dealing with you guys!"

"Naw, Iba," howled Renji, "I always figured Hisagi to be one of my errand boys, waxing my limo, shining my shoes, picking up my dry cleaning, scratching my butt, then kissing it for good measure."

"Not on your life! In that life, this life, or the next!" sputtered Hisagi.

"You're just being mean, Renji, but you know, Shuuhei," chimed Kira, sincerely, "I could see you as a teacher. After all, you've taught at the academy for years. Maybe it was meant to be."

"Yeah, maybe…like it was meant for Hisagi to get into the academy on his first try," Renji guffawed, wiping the tears of laughter away on his sleeve.

"You pig," Hisagi spat. It was a minor sore spot that he had failed the academy entrance exams twice, once on purpose, the second by oversight. It was a major sore spot that Renji never let him forget it. His irritation mounted. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "For your information, I WAS a teacher when I was alive!"

"Dude!"