Totally wasn't putting this off for... days? Heh heh. I do have to say that I never expected crossovers to get such little attention. I kinda feel like starting some sort of awareness campaign. XD Also, this chapter is quite possibly the shortest chapter I've ever written for any story EVER. Or, at least it WAS until I looked at the word count for the next chapter. Yup. And this chapter isn't even one thousand words long.

Painted: Shh! Not everybody knows me in real life! :P

I own... like, zilch. Woo.


Harudori Tsugumi

"Is this more than you bargained for yet?"
- Sugar We're Going Down Swinging; Fall Out Boy


Two and a half years ago, my leg transformed into a blade and sunk into the hardwood floors of my house. Two years plus a few odd months ago, I became a student of Shibusen. Two years plus some weeks ago, I met my soon-to-be partners. Three weeks ago, a rogue soul-hunter came to Death City, evading Shibusen's every attempt to stop him. Two weeks ago, my partners and I accidentally bumped into this soul-hunter. Four days ago, we finished the necessary paperwork to get all three of us into the Especially Advantaged Talent classes. Three days ago, we joined the ranks of the upperclassmen.

In a better world, this would have been a good thing, like a promotion, but some days... I just hoped we could survive ourselves long enough to gather our first soul, much less ninety-eight others.

"Um... I don't think it's supposed to be boiling like that..."

Wiser words were never spoken, but Tatane Meme would have none of it. In fact, no sooner than I had spoken did Meme tip the last of the curious yellow liquid into the beaker. The steam emitted from the concoction turned dark green.

Anya Hepburn let out an exaggerated huff, yanking the flask from Meme's hand and setting it on the far corner of the table. "Honestly, Miss Meme. You should listen to Miss Tsugumi. The blue liquid was suppose to go in next, not the yellow."

"Really?" asked Meme in honest surprise. "But I thought that it was..." She trailed off as she scanned the instructions again. "Oh—whoops!"

"You forgot?" Anya asked dryly.

"Yup!"

"But I thought that Shaula's venom had worn off," I said, frowning.

As though summoned by words alone, the witch in question flitted over to our table, a leery grin curling the corners of her mouth. Her purple and pink hair, braided back into its typical ponytail, glowed in the dim lighting of the potions class and made the liquid in the beaker look more gray than it should have been.

"You called, Princess?" Shaula Gorgon asked, clasping her hands innocently behind her back.

I tried to ignore the devious glint in her duel-toned eyes. "No."

"Wait, Tsugumi's a princess? I thought that was just you!" whispered Meme to Anya, the latter positively fuming. However, Meme's tight grip on the sleeve of Anya's dress prevented the other girl from launching herself over the table to strangle Shaula.

"Is your little friend having memory problems again?" Shaula's eyes slanted to Meme. "Well it certainly can't be my fault. I haven't possessed anyone since our last mission in Dubai."

"You will not be possessing Miss Meme's body with your venom for a very long time, witchling." Anya's voice came out as a snarl.

A shadow fell over the entire table, including all four of the people around it. I swallowed despite myself.

"Girls, how's the sleeping draft coming along?"

Dark, resonant, and merciless. That was how I pictured Professor Vivica. Once the Witch Judge who worked second only to the Grand Witch Maba herself, now a respected teacher amongst the ranks of Shibusen's teachers; she taught most of the classes concerning specific skills that might be used by witches, but only to those who weren't magic-users themselves. The professor claimed that ignorance was this world's greatest flaw, and that in order to better the world for all of its occupants, knowledge must be shared and justice would follow.

All I really knew was that she scared the pants off of me from time to time.

"We may require a second attempt," admitted Anya, ever the unwavering voice of reason.

Professor Vivica bent at the waist, the sash of her red and orange kimono sweeping across the stone tabletop, and stuck the tip of one finger into the beaker.

The beaker exploded.

I screamed. Anya screamed. Shaula screamed. Meme burst out laughing. Professor Vivica withdrew her inflamed hand and extinguished it by snapping her fingers. One look at her disapproving expression told me that I should have brought an extra pair of gloves.

"Meme, Anya, Tsugumi—as the only two-meister team in E.A.T., I expected better. Far better," said Professor Vivica in a contemptuous tone. "How can you possibly hope to render your enemy unconscious with something as unstable as this?"

For a moment, I wished for nothing more than the ability to transform into a halberd and tell Anya to use me to wipe that smirk off of Shaula's face. I could, of course, but it would probably be a bad idea in the long run.

"Do it over. Start from scratch. And don't expect to leave my class until you can put me to sleep." The professor's glare bore into our eyes before she turned to Shaula. "Gorgon, aren't you suppose to be helping Medusa?"

Shaula took the hint, gathered herself, and bolted.

I suppose that's one good thing about Professor Vivica: all of the witches obey her without hesitation.

Running my hand through my short bangs, I turned to my meisters and offered a timid smile. Anya returned the smile with a somewhat distracted expression. Meme, the offspring of spontaneity and forgetfulness, picked up the sealed flask of yellow liquid and asked, "So we were suppose to use the yellow, right?"

My name is Harudori Tsugumi. I'm a demon weapon—a halberd—and my two meisters are Tatane Meme and Anya Hepburn; and today was my third day in the Especially Advantaged Talent curriculum at Shibusen. Somehow, it doesn't matter that we were transferred from the Normally Overcome Targets classes, nor that we got where we are now by saving our classmates from a soul-hunter.

I just hope that our tag-teaming strategy will work, especially since Lord Death himself gave us permission to transfer classes.

No pressure.