The product of bored musings into what actually happens to new recruits in Eleventh Squad...I hope you find it amusing!
"No! You're doing it all wrong!" The teacher tutted at his students, flicking his hair from his face agitatedly.
His students looked on, bemused as he once again showed them, almost exactly as they had mimicked, and looked at them expectantly. Dutifully they once again took positions and swept their swords in an arc, as they had been shown.
They were rewarded with a frustrated sigh. "Its wrong!"
One student made the mistake of questioning his tutor. "What's wrong with it?"
Despite being almost twice the size and definitely twice as broad as the slight man before him, he withered under violet eyes. "There's no grace! No poise! How can you expect to fight if you just stand there like stones?"
Already the pupil's eyes had begun to glaze over, their tenuous grip on their teachers reasoning slipping further as he continued. "But...so long as you hit them..."
Yumichika looked as if he was going to throttle whoever had said that, and certainly he was beginning to bristle like an offended peacock. He wasn't someone known for his sweet temperament.
A little way away, on the wooden platform which surrounded the courtyard, sat Ikkaku, a bottle of Sake balanced on his lap as he watched, his eyes glittering with amusement. Yumichika, of course, had a valid point about movement and fluidity, but unfortunately the new recruits, as well as not exactly being the sharpest tacks in the box (the Eleventh didn't have a reputation for attracting the great thinkers of Soul Society) had not been in the squads long enough to understand the personal foibles of their seated officers and react accordingly.
But, it wasn't Ikkaku's place to interfere. The Captain had told Yumichika to make himself useful and show the new recruits the ropes. He would just have to reap what he had sown...which in this case was a set of thoroughly confused recruits!
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