Hey yo. It's been awhile.
Here, have an extra-long chapter. And guess what? Uryu finally showed up! FINALLY. Jeez, you Quincies and your need to make a cool appearance...
"I do not think there is any other quality so essential to success of any kind as the quality of perseverance. It overcomes almost everything, even nature."
~John D. Rockefeller
Drive
"Ow, dammit! Watch where you're going!"
"I was watching where I was going! It's you who always has his head in the clouds!" Ami snapped at Jiro, who was wincing and rubbing his arm into where she'd accidentally rammed the corner of the box she was carrying.
"Oh, yeah. That's a good one." Jiro imitated Ami's usual bubbly tone, but added in his own ditzy flair. "Heyyy can I go, like, play in the traffic? It'll be fun!" He stared into space with wide eyes and ran his fingers through his dark hair.
"What the hell? I don't act like that!"
"You actually do, airhead."
Shiori began color-coding the bobbin displays with her left hand, ignoring the pair of them. It was the only thing she could really do at the moment, because she couldn't carry boxes. When she apologized and told Ito that she'd gotten into a little accident and couldn't work to her full potential like usual, Ito fussed over her like a mother, asking whether Shiori needed anything and tried to let her off work for a while until her wounds were mended. It made Shiori's chest clench a little as she calmed Ito down, assuring her that she healed quickly and that she could manage.
Ami had expressed similar concern, and even offered to come over and cook for her if she needed it. Shiori quietly and politely declined. She didn't want to cause Ami any trouble, she had her own large family to take care of. And besides, Shiori wanted to practice doing things with her left hand without any assistance.
Even Jiro, king of indifference, told her sincerely that he hoped she would heal soon. She was touched by everyone's concern, but couldn't help but think to herself that it would benefit her (mental) health in general if Ami and Jiro would just be quieter.
Bickering, as usual. What a pain. Especially since her head was throbbing badly. She cast a pleading glance in the direction of Ito's office, where the woman now sat with her glasses on, looking over some financial documents. The door was open, but Ito was looking down, a pen stuck haphazardly into her messy bun and completely surrounded by papers. Her eyes were concentrating on the shipping papers, but somehow, Ito still responded to Shiori's unspoken cry for help. "Keep it down, you two. You're scaring the customers."
Ami gritted her teeth. "Ito, could you please tell this idiot to lay off?"
"Ah, but it's so much fun!" Jiro sang from the storage room. He emerged, carrying three boxes stacked on top of each other without even breaking a sweat, a smirk on his face.
"Show off." Ami muttered, shoving past him to go take her place behind the counter, seeing that a (rather nervous-looking) customer was standing there, ready with his purchases. She began working the register, still mumbling profanities under her breath and slamming the register drawer closed so hard that the machine dinged as if in protest. Shiori willed herself to rise above it all, glancing at the wall clock. Only a couple hours left, including her break, and then she could go home and sleep.
"Hey. Hi, hello, come in Sorano!"
Shiori swiveled around, ignoring the way her legs wobbled a bit. She casually gripped the shelf behind her to keep steady. "Yes?"
Jiro observed her with half-lidded eyes. "I called your name three times already. What's up with you?"
Shiori gave him the eye, inwardly annoyed with herself. "Nothing. What do you want?"
"I said," He let out a long sigh, as if merely repeating it would be a serious factor in taking time off his life. "I'm going across the street to buy some food. Do you want anything?"
Shiori stared at him. Come to think of it, she was really hungry. The last thing she had to eat since lunch preceding the disastrous soccer game the day before was the tea at Urahara Shoten. And now it was late afternoon. "Actually, yes, if you don't mind. Would you get a few onigiri, just to hold me until dinner? I apologize, I don't have any money on me right now, but I can pay you back tomorrow."
"Yeah, sure." Jiro turned, shouting to Ito that he was taking his break. She voiced her assent, and he left, door jingling. The store was empty of customers at the moment, and Ami and Shiori took to setting up packets of different-sized needles in their racks.
"Rude." Ami sneered. "He didn't even ask me if I wanted anything. I wouldn't have to like doing it, but I would've asked him." She turned towards Shiori. "Shii-chan, I hate being irritated all the time!"
Shiori suppressed a snort. "Then just don't answer him."
"I've tried it all, believe me. I'm starting to get a wrinkle between my eyebrows from frowning so much!" She confided in a serious tone, pulling back her blonde bangs and bending over for Shiori to see. Shiori stared at the spot, seeing nothing but smooth skin.
"Ami…"
"I know!" Ami wailed, oblivious to the fact that Shiori wasn't going to agree with her. "I really need a massage, asap. I heard of this one place in Aoyama that relaxes you like no other. My friend Chizuru from my tennis classes told me about it. Hey, we should totally go together sometime, it'd be fun! I-"
"Wait, wait." Shiori raised her left hand, vaguely recognizing that name. "Her name's Chizuru? What school does she go to?"
"Ummm…she goes to that school with the gray and red uniforms, the one that hosts the traditional hanami festival every year that, like, the entire town goes to." Ami squinted at Shiori. "Why?"
"That's Karakura High, Ami. I go there. Chizuru's in my class."
"Really?" Ami smiled widely, excited. "That's so funny! What a small world! When you mentioned earlier this month that you were changing schools I had no idea that it was going to be Karakura High. Doesn't Ichigo Kurosaki go there?"
Shiori looked at Ami, remembering vaguely where she'd heard that name. "He sits next to me in class. He's the one with the-"
"Bright orange hair!" Ami supplied, finishing the sentence. "And he's always scowling, isn't he?" She twisted her mouth. "I can't imagine how big of a wrinkle he has between his eyebrows."
Shiori thought of Kurosaki's hard brown eyes, and couldn't help but silently agree. "How do you know him?"
Ami looked like she was remembering, a soft look in her blue eyes. "Well, Shii-chan…he was the one who saved my little brother's life."
Whatever Shiori was expecting, it wasn't that. She stared at Ami for a minute, mouth slightly open. "He saved-"
Just then, the door chimes jangled once more, announcing Jiro's return. All light of past memories faded from Ami's eyes, annoyance spreading through them instead. She pointedly ignored Jiro as he set a few grocery bags on the high crescent-moon shaped table in the back.
"There aren't any customers at the moment, so you three can eat now." Ito called out, having heard the rustling of the bags and the door. Shiori gratefully received her container of four onigiri in a neat row. He'd gotten her ones with smoked salmon in the center, which she happened to prefer. Shiori thanked him with a smile.
"Hn." He grunted, re-tying his low ponytail before throwing her a can of cold Pocari. She caught it with her left hand almost without thinking. Much to her surprise, only using one hand for small tasks wasn't proving to be so difficult to get used to after all.
"Airhead." Jiro drawled out. "Why are you over there?"
Ami glared at him from over by the needles, her gaze sharper than any of them. "Because I'm doing my job."
Jiro stared at her, mildly surprised. "You're not going to eat? Thought you loved your food."
Ami chose to ignore that comment. "No, I don't have anything with me, genius."
Jiro raised an eyebrow and picked up a ready-made bento lunch from inside a bag, waving it a little. "What do you think this is, genius?"
"Why do I even waste my time talking to you- wait, what?" Ami looked at the bento lunch he was holding, and then back to meet his bored gaze. "It's for me?"
Jiro looked at her as if she'd gone crazy. "Well, yeah. Unless you want me to eat it. Because I will."
"Wha- but…" Ami spluttered, having been taken completely off guard. "Why…how would you…?"
Jiro stared her down quizzically. "I think I've watched you take your break enough times to know what you like to eat. Why waste my words and ask you?"
Shiori could tell that Ami was still pissed off. Hunger took over, however, and Ami made her way over anyways, only giving the food a little sideways glare before grabbing it from Jiro's hands and muttering a 'thanks'.
Shiori felt like smirking, but decided it would be too out of character.
-OOO-
Back in her apartment, Shiori threw open all her windows and pulled back the curtains, finally collapsing onto her bed. The night breeze fanned over her face, stirring her hair. It felt soothing on her flushed face. She lay there for a while, feeling the slow thrum of her aching limbs. "I'm so exhausted…" She breathed. "It's probably one of the pill's side-effects…"
Shiori forced herself to rise after another minute or two, making her way over to the fridge to take out something simple; an apple perhaps. She wasn't so hungry anymore. It came to her mind that she should probably shower, though she had absolutely no idea as to how she was going to manage it in her current condition. She would have to take a bath, and just be extra careful not to let her arm get wet. Shiori's mouth twisted into a wry smile. At least I'm training my left arm. It's good to be ambidextrous…like my father was…
Shiori stared ahead at nothing in particular after she'd settled onto a chair to eat her fruit. She thought about the Hollow attack properly for the first time since Urahara's. It wasn't a normal Hollow, Shiori could sense it. It wasn't the type of monster that voluntarily came out to search for souls; it didn't speak like one that did. It had knowledge of the Quincy race, and seemed to Shiori that it had been around for quite some time. It didn't seem lost, either.
Shiori had the feeling that there was no way this Hollow was ever human.
So where did it come from? The only plausible explanation was that someone must have sent it.
But why? And who was it after in the first place?
Maybe she was thinking too hard about this. Shiori shook her head wearily, getting up to start the bath. She had to heal first. Then if anything else unusual happened, she would investigate.
And tomorrow, Shiori reflected, kneeling down by the edge of the tub. Tomorrow I'll learn to write left-handed. I'll be okay at it by the time I have to go back to school on Monday, so I won't have to ask people to borrow notes.
She looked down at the gauzy white bandages wrapping her arm, and then looked around her. The bathroom door was open so that her bedroom and living room was visible from where she sat. The rooms were empty and still, the only forms that were visible being the sparse furniture.
She was alone.
Shiori lowered her head to bang it lightly on the edge of the bathtub. "I'm an idiot." She muttered, letting out a breath.
-OOO-
It's happening again. This same dream.
Snow.
…
No, wait.
…
Snowflakes.
The glow of a streetlight. It casts a warm yellow light upon the powdery snow that surrounds it, making the pure substance glitter with a subtle and mysterious sheen. The sky is dark, sprinkled with stars…sort of like how the cherry blossom petals scatter upon the concrete by Shiori's apartment in the springtime.
A gentle wind blows. It ruffles the fur-trimmed coat of a tiny girl who stands knee-deep in the snow, watching the flakes fall from above. Her eyes are wide, reflecting the glow of the streetlight as she witnesses the ethereal dance of the twirling flurry of snow around her. The tassels of her deep red scarf flow with the breeze, and her legs begin to grow numb from the cold. She doesn't even notice, as she's so enthralled with the beauty of the frosty dusk.
She begins to twirl about, giggling with exhilaration. White flakes catch in her long eyelashes in an endearing way when she lifts her laughing crescent-moon eyes to the heavens. Her cute little winter hat, topped with a pompom, is nearly covered with the tiny snowflakes.
She trips over a twig buried deep within the snow. Being thrown off-balance combined with having such short little legs makes for a certain result- she falls and sinks into a white mound, smiling all the while.
She sighs contentedly from where she lies, surrounded by a blanket of soft snow.
Wake up! Wake up, already!
…
…
…
Blink.
…
…
…
Where was I?
What was I doing?
…
I don't want to keep dreaming.
'Cause I know what happens next.
-OOO-
Bright and early Monday morning, Shiori glanced at her breakfast plate. Not good. She'd made herself an entire meal that included all the necessary vitamins she needed in order to get well, but she was hardly able to eat anything. She just wasn't hungry.
She sighed resignedly and covered the rest with some foil so she wouldn't be wasting any food. She paused. On second thought, maybe I'll bring some for lunch…
While getting out a clean bento and the rice pot, she found that she was still extremely tired. Her hand shook when she struggled with the bento lid, trying to pry it off. She only succeeded in making herself frustrated. Why am I so weak? I knew the consequences of revealing my bow and getting involved in this world again, yet I went ahead and did it all anyway. I am such a…! Shiori suddenly felt like collapsing. Waves of black swam across her vision and her head throbbed. She gripped the counter until the dizzy spell passed.
The cut on her forehead was covered by a simple bandaid, having mostly healed, but she must've inhaled some grit in the air when the typhoon took over, because her throat had felt raw and delicate for the past few days. "I-I…I still have to go to school…" Shiori coughed violently, leaning over the sink. "I can't miss anything more if I want to rise up to the top of my class like I was inAihara-Daiichi Institute. I need the scholarships." Shiori muttered quietly, her breathing uneven.
She said all this though she knew, even as she said the words, that it was way more than that. I need the feeling of being secure. On top. The way it always was.
Shiori ran her fingers through her hair with her good arm, and leaned against the counter. This was going to be all kinds of fun. And…oh, crap. What story was she going to give everyone?
She went back to battling with the bento lid.
In the end, Shiori decided to let things happen as they went along. That was usually the way she worked anyhow, aside from anything school-related.
When she finished with the lunch, she slid it comfortably into her bag. She would have to buy a drink at the school store.
Once dressed, she left her apartment with the unsettling thoughts of that past Thursday's events rushing through her mind. She placed a hand on the side of her gray uniform skirt, feeling the bulge in the pocket where the little canister of pills was hidden. She'd had to wake up at dawn to take one of the white endurance pills, and would probably need to take another after first period.
She absentmindedly traced her finger over the hard plastic through the skirt material. Urahara. He's been floating around in my head amidst it all. I suppose he fancies being Mr. Enigma. I should know, of all people, that the air of mystery surrounding a person somehow always gets them the results they desire.
Shiori squinted her eyes into the almost blinding Karakura sunlight. The clouds were unbelievably white and wispy, floating dreamily against their bright blue backdrop. What a conniving, fake day, especially after yesterday's storm. In fact, there was almost no trace of it at all, save the occasional puddle or fallen branch. Things had gone back to nearly how they were before. Probably because that Hollow had caused the worst of the storm by the stadium.
The area around the stadium itself must be a total disaster. Shiori winced.
I have a feeling that I'm going to see Urahara Kisuke again, whether I like it or not.
That's usually the way these things work.
Shiori scowled inwardly.
And why the flying frick did he even have a woman's yukata to lend me in the first place?
-OOO-
Ichigo walked into the classroom, turning his chair to face Rukia and sitting in his seat backwards. "You got up early today."
"As always." Rukia answered back, glancing at him without turning her head. "I got up early to try and train a little so this stupid gigai doesn't shut down on me. You should try it sometime, you'll feel refreshed."
"I feel more refreshed when I get up after a good night's sleep." Ichigo said wryly, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm exhausted. Yuzu insisted we go through all the crap we have cluttering up our basement, and she made me do all the heavy lifting. And where was my dad throughout all of this? Snoring away on the sofa. Yuzu claimed he 'needed his rest'."
Rukia laughed, before growing serious. "Well, he does work hard, Ichigo. Face it; you took this opportunity as a welcome distraction from thinking about Thursday."
Ichigo sighed. "And now I'm thinking about it again, Rukia."
"Shut up and listen." Rukia said flatly. "I've been thinking about it, whether you have or haven't. Mukhai aren't like normal Hollows, never having been human in the first place. They're just the guardians of Hueco Mundo. Unfortunately, those guys re-form. You can get rid of them for a while, but you can never completely kill them."
"So where the hell do you think it went, the Void?"
"I'm serious!" Rukia whispered fiercely, glaring at him. "Like I said, they don't need human souls to subsist, never having been human in the first place. They take what they can get. If there's a human soul around, they'll attack. Otherwise, they don't bother."
Ichigo snorted. "So basically, they're like my father."
Rukia chose to ignore that. "They consume the sand in their own world because the minerals there have unusual elements that allow each Mukhai to gain their own special…talent, you might say. That was a Wind-based Hollow."
"Somehow, I think I might've guessed that." Ichigo lowered his eyes, mouth set in a firm line as he thought of the freak hurricane by the stadium. News reports stated that they were still clearing up hundreds of yards away from the stadium, which seemed to have been the eye of the typhoon. "So now what? We wait for it to re-form before killing it again and again? Rukia, how many are out there? If there's no surefire way to kill a Mukhai, then what chance do we have against a lot of them?"
"Who says they're all going to come down to the human world? They prefer not to. It isn't what they're made for. They are guardians, Ichigo." Rukia's eyes glinted with that look that Ichigo had come to know well over the past few months.
"And that means…?"
"That you are the densest man in the world, Ichigo Kurosaki."
"Hey!"
Rukia leaned forward. "It came to fight? I think not. Was it sent by someone? It's possible. What was the Hollow doing at the stadium, then?"
"It was guarding something." Ichigo breathed with understanding. "But what?"
Just then, the classroom door slammed open. "Good morning class, and all that stuff. Pleasantries aside, I'd like to offer my utmost congratulations to our soccer team for winning Thursday's match!" Ms. Ochi grinned at Tatsuki, who waved at the class lazily from her seat. "Although I'm sorry about your leg, Arisawa. How long do the bandages have to stay on?"
"A couple of weeks." Tatsuki shrugged noncommittally. "Until the stitches dissolve. I have a crutch because the doctor said I shouldn't strain it. That Fujiwara kid, whoever it was, really did a number on me." She said airily. Tatsuki didn't seem affected at all. On the contrary, she seemed proud of her injury, like it was a sort of battle scar. She fingered the silver crutch propped against her desk like it was a medal of honor. "And my ankle's sprained too. That's going to take much longer to heal."
Just then the door opened again, and the new girl stepped into the room with a little more grace than the way Ms. Ochi had entered. Ms. Ochi whipped her head around, looking at the clock.
"You aren't late, Sorano. But…goodness! What happened to you?" Ms. Ochi exclaimed, gazing at the new girl's arm and covering her mouth with her hand. Ichigo craned his neck, seeing that Sorano's right arm was wrapped in white bandages from her fingers all the way up until it disappeared into the airy sleeve of her uniform blouse.
Sorano winced, as if she'd expected that exact question. "Well, ah…I…fell down the stairs."
"…" Ichigo exchanged a glance with Rukia. He could tell that neither Rukia nor Ms. Ochi was buying it. Ichigo glanced at Uryu, who was giving Sorano a strange look out of the corner of his eye. I've heard that one before.
Ms. Ochi grimaced. "What's with all the injuries…?" She sighed, and nodded at Sorano. "All right, take your seat. I have another topic I wish to address before class begins."
Sorano wove her way around desks until she reached her seat beside Ichigo. She didn't look at him when she sat down, but he kept watching her. She removed her school things neatly from her equally neat book bag, and set everything out in front of her before facing the front. Ichigo looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time.
She looked tired, for one thing. And every time she moved her right arm in the slightest manner, her eyes narrowed a little with pain and a muscle worked in her jaw. She was probably trying not to emit any sounds that portrayed her injury.
But she was hurting.
I know too many people like her. She won't show her pain and tries to get through it all herself. Ichigo thought, irritated. I'm going to offer her my notes so that she won't have to write with that arm.
"Hey," Ichigo whispered subtly. "Sorano!"
She turned her gaze towards him with an almost impassive look in her azure eyes. "What is it, Kurosaki?" She asked quietly back.
"Ichigo, Shiori! Face front and pay attention!" Ms. Ochi said sharply. Sorano slowly turned to face the front, looking as though she had never been asked to do such a thing in her entire life.
Because she already does that without being told. She's even more of a goody-goody than Uryu is. Ichigo dryly noted as Sorano sent a death-glare towards the blackboard, knowing that it was meant for him.
"Has everyone brought back their permission slips for the hanami?" Ms. Ochi's voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you haven't, raise your hand. If you have, bring it up here and place it in a neat pile on my desk." Everyone got up with a screeching of chairs, and formed an uneven line. "Oh, I sent yours directly to your father, Ishida. He faxed it back this morning, so you're covered." Uryu lowered his eyes but raised his head, nodding silently.
"My parents signed Orihime's too, as usual." Tatsuki told the teacher as she hobbled up to the front and placed two papers in the pile.
Ichigo blinked. With all the bustle of the past few days, he'd completely forgotten about the cherry-blossom viewing party and the slip that was currently lying in the forsaken depths of the bottom of his bag. He raised his hand, causing Ms. Ochi to sigh.
"Bring it tomorrow, Ichigo. If you don't, you aren't going. Clear?"
"Yes, sensei." He lowered his hand, trying to exhale his stress. He glanced over at Rukia who was sitting in her desk, calm as you please.
"What about you, Rukia? Should I ask my father to sign one for you…? But no, that's suspicious…" Ichigo mumbled, trying to find a way around this potential problem.
Rukia rolled her eyes. "I've got it all under control. I forged one and handed it in last week."
"What?" Ichigo yelped, leaning back in his chair with outrage. "But that's…like…illegal!"
Rukia smirked. "I'm not from this world, Ichigo. I don't have to abide by the law." Rukia uncapped a pen and scribbled a messy reminder on Ichigo's hand so he'd remember to bring his own form. "You however, are another story. I recommend writing on your hand. Now for sure you won't forget!"
"Youuuuu…" Ichigo growled, a dark aura emanating from him. He glared at his grafittied palm. She'd even signed it with a little cartoon bunny. "This is permanent marker!"
"Oops."
From his peripheral vision, he spotted Sorano walking up to Ms. Ochi. He froze in mid-pose (his hands were outstretched towards Rukia, who was trying hard not to laugh at him with her hand covering her mouth…ooh, REVENGE) and turned slightly towards the teacher's desk.
"Did Ms. Ochi speak to the principal…?" Sorano politely inquired.
"I did, Shiori. It's taken care of. Atobe-sensei himself signed the form, which was extremely nice of him, I must say. Be sure to go thank him at the hanami, he'll be there as well."
"I'm very grateful, thank you for going to all that trouble." Sorano bowed.
Ms. Ochi smiled kindly at her. "Now, none of that. It was no trouble at all, I'm happy to help my students in any way possible."
Ichigo watched all of this silently, until he turned back to see Rukia staring at him. "Ichigo…" She said quietly.
"Yeah. So she lives alone, huh?"
"If the principal has to sign her form, it must mean that she doesn't have any parents…or anyone else…to sign it for her."
Ichigo's brows furrowed even further. Imagine going through life without either one of your parents. I mean, I have Dad, even though he can be a total pain in the neck sometimes. I have Karin, and I have Yuzu. Who does Sorano Shiori have? He looked at Sorano's figure walking back to her seat.
Somehow, she seemed more delicate…more fragile…than she did before.
-OOO-
"Well, class. Now we move on to the next point of interest. For anyone who didn't know, each year there is an event planned to take place at the hanami, voted on by the students." Ms. Ochi told everyone, eyes sweeping across the room.
Shiori was already dreading this hanami. She hated crowds. And parties. And socializing. Which you have to do at parties.
She glowered at the back of the person's head in front of her. Maybe she'd just show up to thank the principal, say hello to everyone, make sure they all see her there, and then leave. This epic plan, known as the 'Sorano-maneuver' in her own mind, would be the key to her roaring success in getting home to go to sleep early. She had somewhere to be the day after the party, she'd realized it the minute she'd seen the date on the form.
"I have the results of the vote right here." Ms. Ochi waved a white envelope around. "Shall I keep it suspenseful in here so you'll listen to my other announcement first, or should I just tell you people the event now?"
"NOW!" The class yelled as one.
"Okay, okay." Ms. Ochi grinned widely, as if she'd expected that answer. Girls were crossing their fingers. Everybody looked excited, eager. Even Kurosaki, who Shiori had noticed was usually indifferent to these things, was listening. Shiori heard Michiru and a playful-looking brown-haired girl she vaguely remembered was called Mahana whispering to each other, blushing and giggling.
What are they so nervous and excited about? It's just a hanami…is the event supposed to be extra-special?
Ms. Ochi slowly slit open the envelope, taking her time on purpose. Everyone protested. "Sensei! Open it already!" Ms. Ochi smiled sadistically, opening it even more slowly, now pulling the paper out a centimeter at a time.
"SENSEI!"
"Okay, okay." Ms. Ochi said again, laughing. She opened the letter, scanning it with her eyes. She let out a small squeal, though she quickly made amends to hide it. "Ahem. I'll give you a few minutes to…erm, celebrate." Shiori raised an eyebrow. "Coming to this year's hanami…Angel's Rain!"
"KYAAAAAAHHH!" All the girls went insane, hugging each other and jumping up and down. Shiori winced, not bothering to cover her ears because she'd only be able to cover her left one anyway, therefore defeating the purpose.
"OHMIGAWD!"
"I'm so excited!"
"I have to go shopping! I'm going to go after school today, so whoever wants to come…!"
"Angel's Rain, HERE! My cousin in Kanagawa is gonna be so jealous~!"
"Excuse me…" Shiori tried to interject, but everyone was too busy chattering, even the guys. "Excuse…" She narrowed her eyes. Nobody was listening to her. And she didn't like it at all.
"Excuse me." Shiori nearly yelled. The entire class stopped to stare at her. She flushed a little bit, but continued speaking regardless. "Um. Would anyone mind explaining what Angel's Rain is?"
Shiori never knew so many jaws could drop at one time simultaneously. Her first thought was that she'd made some kind of major offense to everyone or something. In a way, she sort of had.
"You…" A short pixie-like girl called Jahiro couldn't finish her sentence, she was so shocked.
"You don't know about Angel's Rain?" Michiru spoke in a hushed voice, stunned. Heck, even Keigo and Mizuiro were staring at her. "Everyone's heard of-"
"Well, I haven't." Shiori cut her off. She didn't like being made to look ignorant in any way, even if it was for something as stupid-sounding as 'Angel's Rain'. "So do you mind telling me?"
"Listen, girl friend." Mahana slung an arm around Shiori's shoulder, which Shiori ultimately flinched at. "Angel's Rain is only the hottest boy band in this part of Japan. They're everywhere. They have their own clothing line and scent, their CDs are sold all over. Even my mother loves them."
"My sisters and I watch every one of their live concerts!"
"My cousins tape their show and send me episodes, since my TV broke and I only have a laptop to watch stuff on."
"My grandma…" Michiru hesitantly added to the conversation. "Says that they're gorgeous hunks of man-candy…whatever that means."
"Uh…" Shiori didn't know which to think was stranger. A grandma having a crush on the members of a teen band, or teenage girls blowing their bank accounts in order to impress males who will most likely never lay eyes on them anyway. "How many members are in this group?"
"Four!" Orihime exclaimed happily. Shiori stared at the bubbly redhead.
Oh my. This is serious. Even Orihime has crossed over to the dark side.
"You like those girly men, Orihime?" Tatsuki frowned. "What does everyone see in them?"
"Well, I like their songs!" Orihime defended herself. "Especially that new one called 'Bring Us Back'. I sing it to and from the market all the time!"
"I like the twins' solo album 'Don't Fall'." Jahiro confided. "They have beautiful voices."
"Excuse me, but I think that I'm the expert on Angel's Rain, here!" Mahana insisted, pulling Michiru in with her. "Let's introduce the members for the unfortunate ones who don't know them."
…Unfortunate…? Shiori stared around at the lovestruck girls crowded around her desk. I think not.
"First- the twins! Their names are Haruka and Kiyoshi, Haruka's four minutes older. They play the base guitar and piano, respectively. Their legendary mischievous tendencies make them famous, along with their close bond and good looks, of course."
Shiori watched, sweatdropping as flowers and bubbles appeared out of nowhere. Michiru was blowing bubbles from the side as Mahana danced around. "Next! The cutie-pie of the group, Seiichi! He's the drummer, seventeen years old as of last Tuesday, but is short and childlike for his age. His big brown eyes make the coldest heart melt into a hopeless puddle in the face of his charm!"
Mahana stopped twirling, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Did I forget somebody, ladies?"
"YES!" They all squealed.
"You forgot the most important member of all!"
"That's a matter of opinion!" Jahiro chimed in.
"And who is that, may I ask?" Mahana feigned ignorance.
Michiru began throwing rose petals that had also appeared out of absolutely nowhere.
They yelled his name all at once. "KAAAAZ!"
"That's right!" Mahana covered her flushed cheeks with her hands. "Kazuya, lovingly called Kaz by his fans, is the lead singer and electric guitarist. He's also the leader of the band."
Shiori nodded slowly. She'd forgotten all their names already.
"Okay, time to settle down!" Ms. Ochi waved a hand, wordlessly telling the class to be seated. Everyone complied, Shiori's head still buzzing from all the shrieking that went on. "Next item on our list- this year, our class is in charge of the after-party activity. What will we arrange?" She paused, and glanced at the clock again. "Oh, forget first period. I want you all to come up with ideas, and we'll vote on it."
Immediately, the class began buzzing with ideas. "We do have a budget!" Ms. Ochi yelled over the chaos.
Shiori rested her chin in her hands. What a waste of class time.
"We can do a strip rock-paper-scissors tournament!" Keigo suggested. Tatsuki whacked him in the back of his head with her crutch. "Ow!"
"Idiot." Ryo said tonelessly, chancing a glance over her copy of Akiyama Tetsuo. "Let's do something we all enjoy. Like, something not perverted in any way."
Shiori found herself thinking about it, despite herself. As always, she wanted to be of some use. "Keep in mind that…um…Angel's Rain…is going to attend as well." She supplied, wanting to voice her opinion. Shiori was surprised at herself for speaking up. Usually, she'd just let everyone else do everything and she'd stay out of their way.
A simple but effective arrangement.
Why can't I keep away from these people?
"Ooh, Shii-chan's got a good point!" Mahana raised a finger. "We have to use our womanly charm to our advantage!"
She called me…Shii-chan. Just like Ito does.
"And how will we accomplish this, ladies?"
"A maid and butler café." Came a smooth voice from the right of the crowd. Everyone turned around, including Shiori.
Shiori recognized the form of Ishida Uryu, who was still sitting by the front of the room, head bent over a book. He gently placed a bookmark within the pages, and turned to some extent to face the class. His glasses glinted as he pushed them back up the bridge of his nose. "Classy. Subtle. Appealing to the eye, yet not overused. Better than the costume balls most schools set up, or the Halloween fright nights or the carnivals."
Everyone was silent for a moment, before Mahana spoke out what everybody else was thinking. "I like it."
"Yeah, me too!"
"Nice thinking, Ishida."
"Okay!" Jahiro clapped her hands, whirling around to face Ms. Ochi. "Did you hear, sensei?"
"Every word." Ms. Ochi rose from her swivel chair and faced the class. "All in favor of a strip rock-paper-scissors tournament, say so now or forever hold your piece." She smirked at Keigo, who looked appropriately apologetic. "All in favor of a maid and butler café?"
Everybody raised their hands. The guys weren't so thrilled at the prospect of being made to dress up all fancy, but seeing the girls in maid uniforms was a plus.
"Right. Well, that was unanimous. Now, first item of business. We'll need maid uniforms for the girls, and butler uniforms for the boys. And I have to approve the maid ones." Ms. Ochi glared at the class in general. The guys sunk lower in their seats.
Keigo had hearts in his eyes. "Girls! In maid attire! I'm in heaven!" He whispered elatedly to Mizuiro.
"You heard what sensei said, doofus." Mizuiro murmured back. "She has to approve them."
"Yeah…well…still! Party pooper!" Keigo pouted. "You suck the fun out of everything. Fun-sucker."
"Names will never hurt me." Mizuiro chanted.
"Shut up, that song's old."
"I was such a cute little doughnut in elementary school…" Mizuiro sighed wistfully. "I got away with everything."
"That's because you blamed it all on me!"
Shiori distanced herself from all the chatter, the keyed up girls, Keigo's sulking. She would have to dress up in a freaking maid uniform and look like a complete moron, and it was all Ishida's fault! She was getting a little more than irritated at this point. Her reputation was at stake, all of Karakura supposedly went to this hanami, after all. Though she'd never had anything to do with it before, now she had no choice. She was a student at the host school.
Shiori imagined Ami's fawning. "Oh, Shii-chan's so cute! I wanna just pinch your cheeks! Here, lemme take a picture. You can thank me later."
And Jiro's silent laughter. "I'd like some more tea, milady."
Everyone she knew from her old school would be there.
What had she gotten into now? She couldn't get out of it using her injuries as an excuse, either. The hanami was in a few weeks, she'd definitely be healed by then. ARGH.
"Does anybody know of a store that carries maid and butler uniforms?" Ms. Ochi continued, taking out a pen and paper and sticking the paper into a clipboard. "If so, tell me now so I can make the necessary arrangements."
"Excuse me." Ishida interjected quietly. "But I can make the uniforms if you'd like."
Ms. Ochi squinted at him. "You…can do that…?"
"Oh, yes, sensei!" Orihime stood up suddenly and waved her hand around. "Ishida-kun can do all that and more! He's a sewing wizard!"
Michiru was quick to back Orihime up on that one, while Ishida glanced away and fiddled with his glasses. Shiori swore she saw pink tinting his face across his cheekbones and nose. The look was somehow endearing.
"W-well…I don't know about that…"
"All right, Ishida. You can be in charge of making the costumes, and you can recruit four or five others to help you sew and take sizes and all that sort of thing." Ms. Ochi nodded at him, taking notes on her clipboard. "Orihime, Michiru…who else can sew in this class?"
Orihime surveyed the room, her ginger eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. "Well…Jahiro-chan can sew…" Jahiro grinned and nodded from her seat beside Mizuiro. "And…"
Oh crap no. Was Shiori's last panicked thought before Orihime pointed right at her. Shiori deflated with defeat. "Shii-chan can sew! I found that out on her first day!"
My life is complete.
"Lovely." Ms. Ochi wrote their names down onto the clipboard. "Since you're injured, you can be the one to take people's sizes, Sorano. Another thing- we need a pair of students to go together and buy the material. Anywhere you recommend, Ishida?"
Ishida jerked a nod. "There's a quaint little sewing shop near my house called Sunflower Seams. I'm sure they'll have everything we need."
Shiori was frozen. Oh, no. No way. This wasn't happening to her.
"Who would- yes, Shiori?" Ms. Ochi said, seeing her suddenly raise her hand.
"I…don't think Sunflower Seams is a good choice. There's a place called Juria's a little further away, but it has more choices for us to select from." Shiori said in an even tone, trying not to give away her desperation. Nobody could find out that she worked there. Nobody. It would only lead to awkward situations.
She imagined Keigo and the rest of them…coming into Sunflower Seams to visit her…after school and during her breaks…she shuddered. Yes, this would have to remain a well-kept secret.
"You're mistaken, Sorano-san. I believe Sunflower Seams is more than adequate." Ishida said, glancing at her coolly. "I've only been there once a while ago, as I prefer ordering from their catalog, but the shop served my needs well."
She glowered at him.
He stared right back. Both of their eyes narrowed. An invisible challenge hovered between them.
The class stared from Ishida, to Shiori, and back again until Ms. Ochi called a stop to it. "That's quite enough! I think you should go check out this Sunflower Seams just to see what there is. And if it doesn't end up serving our needs, we can go to Juria's." Ms. Ochi smiled cheerfully, one of those dark smiles that hid the sadistic personality Shiori swore her teacher hid beneath the surface.
"You can go with Ishida, Shiori. Today. After school." Ms. Ochi made a final note on her clipboard with a flourish, eyes saying 'you will do it, or face my wrath'.
Shiori wished so badly that she had never gotten out of bed that morning.
-OOO-