Hey ever'body, this is MarzaPanda. An ENORMOUS thank you from me to Ryo on YouTube for inspiring me to type this chapter from midnight to one in the morning. I really needed the push, and you where there with a giant wooden paddle. Hopefully there'll be some good feedback on this chapter, as that's what keeps me going. Review-this story's based as much on my dreams as yours.


"My name is Kenpachi Zaraki, and I will be your physical educator for the year." The man was reclining against a wall of the school building, his mane of black hair the only thing separating him from the red brick. "I don't really care what you call me—Mr. Zaraki, or Coach, or whatev—"

"Kenny!"

He sighed. "Anything but that."

The class watched as a tiny pink haired girl bounced up the path. "Why'd you come here, Kenny?" Her face dissolved into a pout. "We were supposed to play together."

"I told you, I'm teaching today. You've got to go home, Yachiru."

"Oh, but Kennnny!" she whined, and with a running leap hopped up onto his shoulder. "Why are you bothering with these guys? They don't look that smart."

Kakashi, standing at the front of the group, frowned. Trying to regain some sort of order, he raised a hand cautiously. "Mr. Zaraki, what will we be doing in this class?"

"Mm, I don't really know. Last year they did some namby-pamby crap like lifting weights and jogging around the track. All I know for sure is that we won't be doing that." He snorted, and, turning to Kakashi, the scar that cut across his eye was clearly visible. "How does running in circles help you in a real fight? I'll tell you—it doesn't. And muscles won't do you any good if there's no intelligence to direct that raw power. Maybe we'll have you fight each other under different circumstances; you know, blindfold you, tie an arm behind your back, or just give you a knife."

"But… But we could really get hurt!" an orange haired girl with breasts the size of Kakashi's head wailed from beside him.

"And?" Zaraki asked quietly, the casual tone gone. "IN an actual battle, your opponent won't stop just short of 'really hurting' you."

"Kenny, don't you think you're taking this a little far?" Yachiru's head poked up, her chin resting on Zaraki's shoulder. "I mean, they're just kids," she said, eyeing a tiny silver haired boys standing next to the chesty red head.

"Oh, I know." Despite his gruff manner, the man shrugged in submission. "Just trying to get 'em ready for the real world.

"Anyway, we won't get much done today. Gotta have all of you sign in," he waved a yellow paper, "as proof of your attendance, or something. It's just to make sure your class schedule is correct and you're in the right place, I guess."

The sheet slowly worked its way through the class, and Kakashi watched as twenty-some people dug in their bags for pencils. When at last it reached him, Kakashi glanced down the list, looking for familiar names. "Guy" and "Hyuga" jumped out, but he couldn't put a face to either name.

The latest signature—a heart over the 'i' still glistening with purple ink—read Rangiku Matsumoto. A quick look to his right revealed the girl who had spoken earlier, now talking to the young kid with spiky white hair.

The boy turned, feeling the other's gaze on him. "Yes? Did you need something?" The tone wasn't rude, simply to the point.

"No, I just—"

He flinched as Rangiku—who was suddenly leaning over him—ran a hand through his hair. "Look Toshiro, His hair is just like yours!"

What did I do to deserve this, Kakashi wondered as his head was being petted and prodded. Someone snickered from behind him, and he shot them the best sideways one-eyed glare he could muster.

"Oh, be quiet," Toshiro said tiredly, taking the class roster and thrusting it at the giggler. "And you really shouldn't glue painted pigeon feathers to your eyebrows." As the kid snatched the paper and turned away, Kakashi caught a flash of red over his eye. The three of them chuckled and watched as the boy stalked away indignantly.

They sat, chatting easily for the next ten minutes, watching the sheet pass through the rest of the class. A monotone bell sounded, and Zaraki waived a hand in dismissal. The students filed out of the gymnasium, and Kakashi glanced around. Spotting his friend, the boy rushed forward. "Oh Kisuke, do you know where room 819—God, what happened to your face?"


Like I said, please review and tell me your thoughts. As long as it's constructive, I like flames that really let me know what you guys are thinking.