"Hey….Hey! Get up already!"

With a groan, Marco rubbed his hands across his face, droopy eyes peering up at the person that disturbed his sleep; his friend, Jean Kirstein. His eyes narrowed slightly, vision still trying to focus as his sleepy mind slowly began to make sense of things. His name is Marco Bott, he's a part of the current 104th Trainees Squad, and every morning he liked to think of things that make him happy: sunshine, leisurely walks, and an unusual penchant for sweets.

"Stop daydreaming and get up! Instructor Shadis will put us on his shit list if we're late!" Jean threw a shoe at him, earning a grunt of pain as it landed perfectly on his abdomen.

With a yawn, he swung his long legs over the corner of his bed, feeling his aching muscles creek and pop in protest; the results of a less than comfortable bed. Marco lazily rubbed his hands against his face, chasing away the last hints of his drowsiness before tossing the shoe right back at Jean, who yelped when it thumped painfully against his back.

"What was that for?" Jean griped, a dull 'You started it' being the only response he got. "Ey, what's wrong with you, this morning?" Jean tsked, watching as the taller male slowly rose from bed and passed him by, practically dragging his feet toward the washroom.

Marco paused at the entryway, Jean's words somewhat catching him off guard. Nothing was wrong. The day had just started, therefore no significant event had occurred in order for something to be wrong. So why would his friend think something was wrong?

"What are you talking about? Everything's fine!" The tall boy smiled, rather unconvincingly, before continuing on his way to the washroom.

"Sure….Whatever you say, man…" Jean blinked, lost in a minute daze of confusion as his tall, lanky friend left his sight.

…

Just the night before, after the cadets had resigned themselves to bed for the night, Dante, not-so stealthily, made her way to the training grounds and began preparations for her combat training. It was nothing fancy, just tossing aside previously used equipment and putting away the ODM gear. The cadets certainly wouldn't be needing those to train for awhile.

Even if it wasn't much, however, her tendency to lose focus and distract herself with wondering thoughts kept her up well into the night; very early morning, rather. That being said, it wasn't much of a surprise that she woke up late.

She danced around her room in a dizzy mess, clothes and shoes, as well as paperwork and various other documents, were scattered haphazardly around her room as she scrambled to make up lost time. Her breath escaped quickly and her hair was a disheveled mess under the stress of having jolted out of bed at the realization of how late she was. She couldn't afford to sit through another endless lecture about her responsibilities and whatnot.

"Fuck!" Dante doubled over, one hand against her desk to hold her steady while her other hand was pressed firmly against her mouth, stifling any other swears that tried to bubble out.

In her rush, she stubbed her toe against the foot of her desk. It hurt. She could practically feel the pain pulsing from her foot and through her leg, but the pain gave her clarity and she suddenly found her mind clearing.

Breathing through the pain, Dante limped to her bed and flopped down on it, giving herself enough time to breath as she slipped on her boots; taking her time, unlike with everything else this morning. Normally, she wasn't one to allow herself to rush or be in a hurry, but this morning, she was given a final warning not to be late or skip out on training the South region's 104th Trainees Squad.

"Ugh…" A soft groan left her lips as she rubbed her hands against her face. The day hadn't even really began, but she could already feel that it was going to be a long day.

…

Marco splashed water on his face, scrubbing gently before trailing his hands back to run through his hair. He had just finished changing into his uniform and now stood in front of the mirror in the men's washroom, staring down his reflection. Oblong facial structure, slightly slanted eyes, straight nose, and freckled cheeks.

He stared himself down before tugging at the corners of his lips, contorting his facial expression into a smile. He preferred to think about the nicer things in life, so even if he had no particular reason to, he told himself that he would smile at least once a day. By doing so, sometimes he'd smile without meaning to or even when the situation didn't warrant it.

His smile nearly faltered at the thought, inwardly cringing at the memory of his orientation into the 104th Trainees Squad and his encounter with Instructor Shadis.

Marco chuckled, smile returning after he successfully chased the thought away. He figured he should teach himself to laugh at things that occurred in the past. His smile regimen made it easier to do so. In fact, he'd say he was beginning to become quite good at it. Almost too good…

After a while, Marco couldn't really tell if he was smiling because he wanted to, or if it was more so an act of ritual; a routine thing to do. Sure, he could smile when he was genuinely happy and laugh when he truly thought something was funny, however, sometimes it felt like smiling was slowly becoming an act of defense rather than a method of expression.

"I'm thinking too much…" Marco splashed more water on his face before drying off, throwing his reflection one last reassuring smile before exiting the washroom and joining the crowd of cadets as they groggily filed into the mess hall for breakfast, sleep still weighing heavily on their minds.

…

Dante strode, more like marched, down the long hallway; constant and unwavering as she neared her destination. Despite her hurried pace, her steps were light, heels clicking against the polished wood until ultimately coming to a halt in front of a wide door. Lifting her hand to rest against it, she took pause, going through a mental checklist. It was quiet, all except for the animate chatter sounding from the other side of the door. With the way she just stood there, anyone that may suddenly pass by may think that she was trying to will the door to open on it's own. She knew it wouldn't, of course, but rather she was making sure everything was prepared and in order for what she had up their sleeve.

She grinned; smooth lips tugging up into a wickedly amused smile before swiftly pushing the door. It burst open with a startling sound that silenced all those that had previously been enjoying a morning meal. They started at the intruder, mouths agape at the sight of the once closed door now slammed open and awkwardly creaking on its hinges before ultimately halting completely. It was quiet, nothing but eyes shifting around in confusion, most of them aimed directly at Dante.

"Who the hell are you?" shouted a young man that had managed to snap out of his stupor.

"Me?" Voice soft, laced with a certain hint of amusement that quipped the inhabitants and put them on guard. They eyed the unknown up and down, sizing up their enemy. Some were cautious, others were cocky. After all, the intruder, Dante, didn't look threatening: female, average weight, average height, slick hair touching just below her ears, and bright hazel eyes that could capture any man's attention. "I'm the person that will be in charge of your combat training from now until I've decided that you've been properly broken in!" Dante's grin was wide as she looked upon the mess hall filled with the confused faces that belonged to, none other than, the 104th Trainees Squad. "You may call me Dante."

"Dante...?" Questioned a cadet, going stiff as soon as the eyes of his new superior landed on him.

"Yes…. Among fresh meat, such as yourselves, I'm notorious for sending my enemies to the depths of Hell." Her voice shouted out, echoing in the still mess hall. "From this moment on, you are all my enemies! If I like you, I'll make sure you enjoy the trip. If I don't, well..." She squinted her eyes, hip jutting out to rest her palm against it. As she gazed across the faces of her new victims, some shivered while a wicked gleam passed over her features. "Well, you'll be begging for the real thing."

"What kind of joke is this? Who do you think you are?" It was Jean that yelled out, obviously displeased with the sudden turn of events.

The other cadets looked between him and the woman known as Dante curiously, waiting with bated breath to see how the situation would unfold.

"Joke..?" Her face, which had previously remained amused and light from the moment she stormed the room, turned passive, a eerie seriousness clouding her features. Slowly, she turned on her heel and proceeded to descend the steps, breaking eye contact in the process. Some of the steps creaked under her until she stood on the wide plane of the mess hall. She paused, lips pursed in thought as she folded her hands neatly behind her back. When she resumed, she once again turned on her heel, this time facing Jean, and walked straight toward him. Her steps were constant and unwavering, slow and light, and ceased only when she stood in front of the bold cadet. She was barely half a head shorter and had to tilt her head ever so to look him in the eye, but she stood so close their noses nearly touched.

The proximity alone was enough to make Jean mildly uncomfortable, but her strong gaze caused him to unconsciously hold his breath and swallow a gulp of saliva that had gathered in his mouth. He was frozen in place, staring down at her as the rest of the cadets watched, waiting impatiently for something, anything, to happen. A cool drop of sweat fell from Jean's temple and suddenly a smile spread wide across the mysterious woman's face, patting him on the back rather roughly while laughter spilled from her lips. Suddenly the air in the room wasn't so stiff and everyone released a breath they didn't realize they had been holding. Jean, however, flinched at the barrage of slaps she landed against his back as she laughed in amusement about something he didn't know.

"I think I might start to like you!" She proclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye and flicking it away, her laughter finally beginning to die down. "Don't disappoint me." She grinned a grin that told those in the room that a world of hurt awaited them.

…

Marco was amazed, to say the least. This whole situation baffled him. No more than a half hour prior to her arrival, they had all groggily dragged themselves from their stiff, uncomfortable beds and dressed in preparation for training. Just moments before she crashed through the door of the mess hall, they had finally managed to waken themselves and chat animatedly over their not-so appetizing, yet filling, breakfast. Now, they were staring in awe as she shamelessly stood uncomfortably close to Jean Kirstein. It all seemed like something right out of a fictional story, really. Something none of them could believe was actually happening. Surely, this was a dream?

Marco's eyes were wide as he looked on, breath held in his throat at the scene before him: Jean's face flushed bright red, this mysterious woman practically nose to nose with said cadet, and everyone else just as frozen as he, unsure of what to do. Just looking at their close proximity was enough to make his face flush with a light dusting of pink.

She, this woman named Dante, had a commanding personality and he couldn't help but follow her every move. Her body was modestly curved, waist just so noticeably curved inward while her hips were subtly belled outward. Her short hair curled cutely just below her ears, her vast hazel eyes were captivating, and it was these little things Marco couldn't help but notice most.

The corner of Dante's lips slightly tugged upward into the faintest of smirks and all too soon laughter began to spill from her lips. Marco felt his shoulders relax ,and released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, as she moved away from his friend. Everything suddenly didn't feel as tense; it felt like it was easier to breathe in the light atmosphere.

"I think I might start to like you!" Dante proclaimed, a grin stretched across her face as she roughly pat her hand against Jean's shoulder. "Don't disappoint me."

Marco slightly flinched at the sight. It hurt just to watch; Jean's face cringing slightly from the impact.

"Cadets!" Dante shouted, hands on her hips as her eyes slowly scanned out over the young faces. "I want to see you all in the training grounds in the next 10 minutes! Anyone that's late will be kicked from the trainee squad, no questions asked!" With that, Dante marched back up the stairs and left the mess hall as abruptly as she came.

Jaw's dropped, the cadet's watched the brazen woman's back as she left, only the sound of her footsteps being an indication that what just occurred had not been a dream; even that, however, eventually faded away.

It was quiet, but soon realization hit. All at once, the cadets made a mad scramble to finish their meal and head to the training grounds.

…

"Line up, cadets!" She shouted, voice ringing across the training grounds like an alerting bell.

Scrambling, all the cadets lined up, bodies almost naturally falling into place; stiff, straight, and facing forward. The woman walked from end of the line to the other and back again, looking each person up and down with a critical eye. Some of the cadets allowed their eyes to follow her while others cautiously stared ahead of them, but none knew what to make of her. She seemed eccentric, free flowing, but also serious and unyielding.

At first, none could tell if she was someone to be taken lightly or if she was someone to be feared. She couldn't have been that much older than them, so what could she do, or rather what could she teach them, that could further them?

They were proven wrong, however, when a handful of cadets made it to the training grounds barely a minute late. Without hesitation, Dante had dismissed them, slender finger pointing toward a waiting carriage. They thought she had been kidding, but with a hard look in her eye, she shooed them away.

"Role call!" Immediately, she barked out her orders, staring down at the first cadet in the line with a hardened gaze. "State your name, cadet."

The cadet gulped audibly; sweat trickling down his brow as his adam's apple bobbed ever so slightly. This was like orientation all over again, but rather than Instructor Shadis, it was a woman with a rather average (some would say boyish) frame. At first glance, she wasn't nearly as intimidating, but some of the more skilled cadets knew to be weary.

In her eyes, they could see a kind of experience only those that had seen the more bitter side of life would have. However, her occasional, eccentric outbursts made her all the more mysterious. Was she someone to be loved or feared? Or was she someone that tethered dangerously in between?

One by one, each of the cadets called out their names in salute. She hardly gave them a second glance, while she completely skipped over others. Some, she would stare at, circle around, and regard deeply as though she were trying to work out any preconceptions she may already have off them. It was unsettling and did well to cause more than just a few cadets discomfort.

About halfway down the line, however, she gave a disinterested yawn and waved her hand to dismiss them.

"You're dismissed, cadets!" She waved them off. "Pair up and start basic combat drills, I want to see what you're made of! Switch partners every five minutes!"

Short, sweet, and to the point. With that, she turned on her heel and walked off to the side, sitting herself somewhere that she could keep a close eye on the cadets while simultaneously slack off.

To say that it had been a bewildering morning for all of them would be a dramatic understatement. At the same time, however, they felt as though this was something they should be well accustomed to by now, and if not, it wasn't a bad time to start.