A/N: Finally got around to continuing this one. I think I'll do this like a series of snapshots of Zaraki's academy days, as told through the eyes of my lil' OC from the first chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

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Hanya smiled as the harsh clangs and shouts of the salle greeted his ears. While his swordsmanship was not particularly inspired - his skills lay more towards kidou and healing techniques - he did enjoy testing himself against others in the training area. It was cathartic in some way he couldn't immediately identify. Plus, improving his sword skills could only help his chances of getting into one of the Gotei 13; they liked upcoming students to be proficient in many areas.

He looked around as soon as he'd cleared the doorway, searching out familiar faces. There was an odd feeling of bloodlust in the air today. Very strange, he mused. There was Satoshi - his military-minded friend spent most of his down-time honing his weapon skills - and he recognized a few other faces from various classes. What was most of interest, however, was the large crowd of shinigami clustered against the far wall. After a moment, he realized that most of the sound of sword-on-sword was coming from the crowd, interspersed with a number of shouts and oaths, and over it all, the sound of... giggling?

Hanya started shoving his way into the throng. When in Rome, right?

It took a bit of time, as well as a few discrete elbows, to force his way into a position to see. And when he did...

In the back of his mind, he wasn't overly surprised. Who else but the Kenpachi would draw that much attention to a sword bout? It almost seemed, to his amazed eyes, as though the entire crowd was attacking Zaraki, but a closer look revealed that it wasn't a total melee. A headcount proved that Zaraki's opponents numbered only six. Heh. Only, Hanya thought to himself. High-level students, too - Hanya recognized several who were at least ninth-years as they spread out to better surround their sole opponent.

The lanky man was smiling, his too-sharp teeth set in a grin that brought to mind certain wild predators. Hanya had seen swordsmen whose fighting style looked like a dance before. Kenpachi's style was not beautiful. It was efficient, and bloody, and brutal, and suited him right down to the ground.

He leaped forward, his sword moving incredibly quickly, blood flew; down went one student, and then another. Hanya's healer instincts immediately analyzed the damage - shoulder wound, slash to the ribs, no damage to internal organs, not fatal - and breathed a sigh of relief. The man was fighting with live steel, but he wasn't deliberately seeking to kill. Another took the opportunity to strike, and a sword stabbed a deep gouge in Kenpachi's side. It occurred to Hanya that the scary man's black clothes were stained with his own blood as well as other's, but his grin never faltered.

The odd giggling came again, and for a crazy second, he thought it was coming from Kenpachi. It was only when Kenpachi turned to strike down the one who had hit him that the student healer realized that the child was still attached to his back, even in the midst of combat, and it was from her that the laughing had come. He stood, frozen with indecision, over whether he should intervene.

Or if he could. His merely workmanlike swordsmanship wouldn't last long at all in that bout. He finally stayed right where he was; he had no interest whatsoever of entering and Kenpachi assuming he'd come to reinforce his opponents.

Thankfully, the bloody bout was over within another two minutes. All of the combatants were bleeding heavily, but only Kenpachi was still standing. Amidst the fallen students, and surrounded by the watching crowd, the man tipped back his head, lank hair cascading down his back, and let out a great sigh of enjoyment. He flicked his sword, getting most of the blood off it, before tossing it back onto the rack that held them.

Without a word, he strode through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea as he walked by. The pink-haired girl was chattering happily as he walked with measured steps across the salle and out the door, and the feeling of bloodlust went with him.

Hanya sighed and went to tend the wounds of the fallen.

It looked like he wouldn't be getting any sword practice this evening.