A/N: I am finally done with chapter four! It's kind of long, you know, makes up of the really short one last time. Sorry about that, by the way… heheheh… -attempts to do back flip…lands on head- Ow… okay, that's enough jumping for today…
DISCLAIMER: I DO own Bleach! Muahahaha…no.
How to be a Humanoid
Orihime's Cooking
Ichigo felt his legs' searing agony tear further with every step he took. He raced left and right, weaving through the maze of a school. Behind him he could hear the cries of his comrades, their footsteps following his.
"I-Ichigo! Wait up! Where are you going!?"
Ichigo didn't pay any attention and kept running. He didn't have any time to wait for them; if he waited, then all of them would be late. And if they were late…
Ichigo gasped for air as he continued to sprint to his classroom. If he was late, Ichigo couldn't even imagine what would happen to him.
His classroom door came into view quickly. Ichigo darted toward it, already bracing himself for the punishment. 'Maybe…just maybe, if I'm lucky… the teacher isn't in the classroom, and nobody feels like telling her that I was late…'
Unfortunately, Ichigo was never lucky. In front of door, he could feel a shadow casting over his own body… a familiar, scary, TEACHER-like shadow. Ichigo looked up numbly, petrified.
"Soo…Ichigo Kurosaki," the teacher trilled through her bared teeth. Her smile didn't look the least bit real, and the scary glimmer in the glasses didn't help Ichigo very much, either. "Late again…? But the new students got here faster than you!"
"I was guiding some other new students here," mumbled Ichigo, praying that the excuse would work. He could hear the taps of footsteps behind him. Looks like the captains finally came…
"Oh! There you are!" the teacher sang in a fake happy voice. "You finally came! Hm… late on your first day?"
"Erm…" Komamura gave shifty eyes to the other two shinigami. "Sorry?"
"It's alright!" she chirped, her smile twitching. It certainly didn't look alright…
The teacher grabbed the new students and Ichigo rather roughly and ushered them into the class. "It's great to see you, Kurosaki!" she added to Ichigo, and made sure to clap him in the back excessively hard before he entered the room. Ichigo hurried to his seat; he could feel the gazes of the other students tailing him all the way. The teacher walked in front of the room, picking up her clipboard.
"Now that we finally have all our students in the class," she started, her eyes burning into Ichigo's, "it looks like we can finally finish introducing our batch of new students! Please come in front of the room when your name is called." The teacher cleared her throat and started.
"Sajin Komamura."
The large, masked student walked in front of the room, squeezing his way through the desks. A couple of students shuffled in their chairs nervously as he passed. The teacher didn't seem scared of his appearance; in fact, she seemed more annoyed.
"Komamura," she started, her lips tightening into a straight line. "I know that you are new and don't understand all the rules in this school yet, so I'll cut you some slack. You are not allowed to wear clothing that conceals the face in Karakura High School for safety reasons. Please take it off."
The teacher put her hands on her hips and waited. Komamura, however, didn't look like he had any intention of removing his mask. A moment of silence past, and the teacher steadily became more annoyed.
"I said, please take of the mask," she repeated in a firmer voice.
"No," Komamura responded for the first time.
The teacher gasped, nearly dropping her clipboard. She quickly recovered, though, and gave Komamura a dangerous leer. "Now why not?" she questioned, her fake-honey tone becoming even more fake by the second.
"Because…" the shinigami started. His voice trailed away and he sunk his head deeper in the mask. Starting again, this time with an unusually high-pitched voice, Komamura cried, "Because… I'm ugly! I'm so ugly! W-when I go in town, people stop and s-stare! It's not fair!"
He suddenly darted back to his desk in a cowardly, unKomamura-like way and zipped up his mask. People could hear bits of sniffling escape from the cloth. None of the students said a word, and the teacher looked overwhelmed from the previous incident.
"I-it's okay, Komamura," the teacher coaxed, a hint of guilt behind her expression. "No one in this class will laugh at you…"
'YES, THEY WILL!!' was the only answer muffled answer she got back. The teacher sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine," she said dryly. "I will let you wear it today, but please; I don't want to see it tomorrow."
Not waiting for an answer, the teacher started again. "Next new student! Please come forward: Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryūsai."
The old man eased out of his chair slowly. He got to his feet and walked calmly to the front of the room, taking careful notice of small, common-day items. Yamamoto earned several strange looks as he passed each desk; some of the teenagers started to whisper to one another about his appearance.
"Erm… Hello, Mr. Yamamoto!" greeted the teacher nervously. Some students caught on to the 'Mr.' the teacher used before the old man's name-- something she wouldn't do with other students.
"Good day to you too, Teacher," Yamamoto replied happily. He turned to the class and bowed his head slightly before he spoke. "My name is Shigekuni, but I would prefer Yamamoto over that name… would that be okay with you, my class?" without even stopping to hear what the students would reply, Yamamoto continued. "If you would like to know some things about me, I would be glad to say. I enjoy teaching fellow comrades to help them succeed in their goals. Right, Jūshirō; Shunsui?"
Ukitake froze, miffed. He attempted to force on a smile before he fell face-flat on his desk, horrified. Kyōraku, however, waved his hand in the air like a maniac, grinning ear-to-ear. Yamamoto smiled kindly back at his students, then cleared his throat and continued.
"As I was saying," the old man rambled on, "my favorite subject was always the active kind. Sword battling, I remember. Or is it gym you young folks call it these days? But never mind that… I am sure it will be a pleasure to get to know all of you."
Yamamoto finished, nodding politely to the class. Most of the students stared, mouth-opened and blinking stupidly. "The old fart likes gym!?" one boy cried suddenly; he earned a deadly glare from the bearded man. The teacher swallowed, and spoke again.
"That was a very nice introduction, Mr. Yamamoto," stuttered the teacher, fumbling with the clipboard in her arms. "Erm… by any chance, you do know that this is a high school class, right?"
"Of course," Yamamoto answered coolly. "Why would I be here if I didn't know that this is high school? I have come to learn, and knowing your human rules, you cannot deny me of education."
The teacher gawked, but quickly recovered and adjusted her glasses. "Of course we can't," she replied hastily. "T-thank you, and welcome to our class. Now, if you could please return to your seat…?"
Yamamoto obliged, walking back to his seat at a sluggishly slow pace. The class whispered to one another; "The new kids are all too weird!" a girl cried softly. Nobody listened when the teacher demanded silence.
"Be quiet!" the teacher snapped, veins popping out of her forehead. "If you don't stop talking this instance--"
"I'll kill you," another voice added. His voice boomed and echoed through the classroom. The students stopped talking automatically, their gazes darting toward the person who had spoken. The speaker, a big man, stood in the corner of the room, wearing a psychopathic grin on his face. His hair spiked up in tall rods, all with small bells on the tip. A patch covered one of his scarred eyes. The only thing that even hinted that he was high school student was the ragged-up uniform he wore.
"So? Isn't it my turn?" said Kenpachi, his smile stretching even wider and crazier. The teacher, taken aback, only managed to splutter, "Y-yes, of course."
Kenpachi walked to the front of the room. The teacher, whose fear the new psycho-student was disappearing quickly, buried her nose under her clip board once more.
"You're Kenpachi Zaraki, correct?" she inquired, glancing up from her papers.
"Yep."
"Okay…" the teacher mumbled, marking her paper. Kenpachi slumped down his back, obviously bored. The teacher, who could see his disinterest in the corner of her eye, fumed and glared at him over her clip board.
"So, Zaraki," the teacher started, using her fake honey-sweet tone again. "Is there anything you can tell about yourself? Do you like school?"
"Nope," Kenpachi answered carelessly. The teacher almost gagged, and the students stifled their giggling. The teacher didn't even bother hide her glare this time, but she kept using the same tone of voice.
"Is there a particular reason why you came to our class?"
"Nope."
"Do you have good friends here?"
"Nope."
"Do you have a favorite subject?"
"Nope."
"Do you want to go to the principal's office?"
"Nope."
"Well, you seem like an interesting person, Zaraki," the teacher concluded, her teeth grinding together in her smile. Kenpachi didn't seem the least scared of her, though. He didn't reply to her comment and yawned. The teacher's face went bright red. "Why don't you sit down now?" she asked, barely containing her annoyance.
Kenpachi sighed and walked back to his seat. The people next to him shifted their eyes and moved away from him slightly; to get away from him, or to avoid facing the wrath of their teacher, nobody knew.
Ichigo glanced up at the clock. The introductions had taken about fifteen minutes. Not bad, but he had hoped that it could've killed off a little more class time. Ichigo pulled out his pen and notebook, expecting the teacher to start off the day.
"Next student," the teacher called, her eyes still glued to the clipboard.
Ichigo looked up, surprised. 'Hasn't everybody gone yet?' he thought. Ichigo set down his pen. 'I thought that we were late enough to miss all the other introductions, but I guess I was wrong…'
Ichigo waited, mentally guessing who the next shinigami would be, and how they would act to the teacher. Even though some of their actions made him cringe in fear, it was very interesting to see the reaction of the teacher.
"Grimmjow Jaggerjack," said the teacher.
Ichigo bolted up, almost jumping out of his seat. He looked around the room wildly. He didn't see a trace of the Sixth Espada, however.
'There's probably someone else named Grimmjow,' Ichigo reassured himself, but his heart still pulsed madly with shock. 'I mean, why would he be here, of all places?'
He wouldn't, he answered.
"Excuse me, Grimmjow Jaggerjack," repeated the teacher when nobody came to the front of the room. Ichigo sighed, relieved; maybe there wasn't even going to be a Grimmjow in his class after all.
The teacher didn't seem nearly as relieved as Ichigo was. After having four late students, one kid with a mask, an old guy, and a psychopathic student, her patience was dying quickly. "GRIMMJOW JAG-"
"I heard you the first time, woman!"
Heads darted to the corner of the room. Ichigo held his breath; the voice had been shockingly familiar. Too familiar, in fact.
Slowly, he turned his head along with the other students. Half-asleep and stumbling clumsily was none other than Sixth Espada, Grimmjow Jaggerjack.
Ichigo nearly died in his seat with shock. He watched numbly as Grimmjow staggered to the front of the room.
"It's nice that you've finally come, Jaggerjack," the teacher hissed. Grimmjow rubbed his eyes absentmindedly, blinking at the teacher.
"So what? Do I have to say something?" Grimmjow sneered, stretching out his arms. Ichigo could see imaginary fire stream from the teacher's nostrils, but the student in front of the room didn't seem to notice that he was angering his instructor at all.
"In fact, no," said the teacher. She didn't have any patience left at all. If her new student presented himself as someone who wouldn't give a decent introduction, so be it. "Sit back down, Jaggerjack."
Grimmjow apparently didn't like this answer; he growled and cursed under his breath, but nonetheless walked back to his seat. "The freakin' woman, screaming for me to come to the front of the room… when I come, she sends me back…"
The teacher, undoubtedly, had heard that comment, but strangely didn't punish Grimmjow, as the class expected. The atmosphere was tense; Ichigo could feel it. His fear of the Espada in his class quickly got replaced by his new fear of annoying the teacher. The students seemed to feel it as well; they stopped commenting on the new kids and sat straighter in their seats. No one found the antics on the Soul Society dwellers funny anymore. Ichigo gulped and pulled at the neck of his shirt nervously. Things were looking bad…
"Ulquiorra Schiffer," the teacher called almost regretfully.
Ichigo's heart lurched forward again with shock, but the feeling went away almost as fast as it came. Ichigo slumped back in his seat. I should have known…
The depressed-looking Espada trudged up to the teacher. She checked off his name on the attendance sheet and looked up wryly. "Well, Schiffer? Do you want to give an introduction, or you can just go back to your seat."
Ulquiorra grimaced at the question he was asked. His facial expressions showed that he wanted nothing more than to go back to his desk and not be bothered, but he sighed and turned to the class.
"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer," the arrancar started in monotone. "I'm… fifteen years old. I like… erm, practicing my skills in my free time. I dislike some certain people and testing food…"
Ichigo could tell he was making up stuff as he went. Even while he was absolutely terrified of what Aizen had in plan, Ichigo was still impressed at how the Fourth Espada came up with his introduction on the top of his head. An involuntary grin tugged at Ichigo's lips as tried imagining how the introduction would go if his enemy didn't lie…
"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer. I'm probably one-hundred something years old, but I don't remember. I like slapping Yammy and Grimmjow in my free time. I hate Grimmjow, trashy people…"
Ichigo paused for a moment, trying to fit in something for 'testing food'. Why wouldn't the Espada not like testing food…?
--
Aizen tipped his cup of tea and sipped slowly, savoring every taste. He sighed, setting down the cup when he was finished. Aizen suddenly smiled to himself.
"I am truly blessed," Aizen thought, looking around at the plain white walls and floors in his room. "I have such a lovely kingdom in the Las Noches, and very interesting subordinates. Grimmjow to keep me entertained, Gin and Tosen to help me see (even if they can't see themselves), Szayel to steal glasses from when I need them, and Ulquiorra to test Orihime's terrible cooking for me! I am blessed…"
"Aizen-sama!" a feminine cry interrupted his thoughts. Aizen looked up to see who add called him. He saw an indistinguishable blurry figure ("Where's Szayel?" Aizen demanded, rubbing his eyes), but he knew who it was from her voice.
"Yes, Orihime?" he inquired politely.
"I was just wondering where Ulquiorra went. Did he go off somewhere?" she asked, her tone equally as polite.
Aizen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I did send him somewhere. He's not coming back for a while. If you need something, you can always ask me, Orihime."
"Oh, thank you!" Aizen watched Inoue's misty form move. He squinted his eyes; it didn't help a lot, but it looked like she was pulling out something from behind her back.
"This!" she chirped. Aizen could see vaguely that there was something in Inoue's arms, but he couldn't tell what.
"I'm sorry, Orihime," he apologized, rubbing his eyes unnecessarily. "It's… allergies. You know, spring is here and all, so I can hardly see. Could you please tell me what you're up to?"
"Oh, of course!" she replied happily. "I need you to test my new food idea! Turtle-and-fried grapes lasagna, with a touch of octopus tentacles and bean paste instead of cheese! I tried it myself already, and I think it's really, really good! I just want to see how others think of it, Aizen-sama!"
Suddenly, Aizen crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
"Aizen…-sama?"
--
Ichigo scratched his head, unable to find any reason why Ulquiorra wouldn't like testing food.
"Ah, well," he thought. "It's not really that important."
He reminded himself what was important; the fact that the Espada were at his school. Fear flooded Ichigo's mind once more. What was he going to do now…?
"O~kay," the teacher nodded, a signal that Ulquiorra could go back to his seat. The new student obliged so quickly that Ichigo couldn't even see him move; he only noticed that Ulquiorra was back at his desk.
The teacher looked considerably happier when someone had finally given a decent introduction (even though it was all lies) and sounded less frustrated when she called her final student. "Last student: Wonderweiss Margera."
Silence followed her announcement. Student looked at each other and scanned the room for anyone unfamiliar, Ichigo included.
"Who's Wonderweiss?" Ichigo whispered to Yumichika, who was nearby.
"I don't know," he replied, flipping back his hair. "But this person's name sounds beautiful! Of course, not as beautiful as mine, but it has a slight, you know, dazzle to it!"
"Erm… yeah," Ichigo replied dryly. He quickly turned away when Yumichika pulled out a comb and started to brush his hair.
"Is Wonderweiss Margera here?" the teacher asked, raising her voice.
The class shrugged and looked at one another. The teacher sighed and sat down. She almost put her clip board away when…
"Ahh… Wonder…weiss."
The teacher looked up, searching for the student who replied. Her eyes met the dazed, violet eyes of Wonderweiss Margera.
"Are you… Wonderweiss?" the teacher inquired.
"Ahh…" the boy said, tilting his head slightly.
"I'm taking that as a 'yes'." The teacher checked her clipboard. She glanced at Wonderweiss and put her paper away without asking him to speak to the class.
"So!" she started, clasping her hands together. "Today we start with gym class! I expect you all know where the gymnasium is, and if you don't, just follow the class! I'm going to stay here and drink my coffee!"
The teacher sipped her drink slowly, with all the students watching her. When she noticed, her eyebrow raised and she lifted her hand to shoo them away. "Go, go!"
Ichigo stood up awkwardly with the rest of the class and walked hesitantly to the gym. He could see the Espada watching his every move in the corner of his eyes.
Ichigo shuddered, turning his head. He looked at old man Yamamoto. Surprisingly, the man was glaring fiercely at the Espada. Ichigo could read the look in his eyes:
"You bad, BAD children. I will punish you…"
Ichigo couldn't help himself and mentally corrected him:
"You mean: You bad, BAD children. I will make you eat Orihime's cooking."
A/N: That finishes chapter four for today, my friends! Many thanks to those who read and reviewed my story! Oh, and an apology: Really sorry for not updating this chapter sooner! I 'kinda lost motivation half-way, but that definitely won't stop me from completing this story! Also, (unlike Aizen's lie) I do have allergies, and they really bother me in Spring. That might also slow me down, but I'll try to get the next chapter done as soon as possible.
CHAPTER FIVE: Retired Hulk!