"Listen up, each and every one of you!" orders the proctor. It's the same man who oversaw my test. He's kind of short, though not as short as I am. He's bald, got tanned skin and brown eyes. Boring? Apparently, I'd gotten the lowest score—not that I minded. I got in, even if I'm in at the bottom of the heap… maybe that's not a good thing. Oh, wait, he's still talking. "…And so, I congratulate you on passing your exam. One student received a perfect score on her written exam, and so I would like to congratulate Minami! Exceptional from a rukongai citizen, eh?"

My eye twitches.

"In any case! I wish you all luck on your time at the Shinoreijutsuin! Study hard, and train hard!"

That said, several students start clapping. Soon, the rest of the crowd joins in enthusiastically—though how sincere the enthusiasm is I can only guess. I don't clap, and neither does the girl who dragged me in here just minutes ago. She's been sitting next to me this whole time and I barely even noticed. She sits with a scowl etched upon her features. I have to wonder what her problem is.

"They give the same speech every year," she grumbles. "Onii-sama knows it word for word by now."

"Onii-sama?" I question, cocking my head.

"Oh, you probably call them Onii-chan or something," she explains with a roll of her head. "I'm a Mitani, baka. If I'm caught calling my Onii-sama 'Onii-chan,' or even 'Onii-san,' Otou-sama will kill me."

"Oh."

"Lemme guess, Rukongai?" Hinata barks sarcastically. I nod in response. "Lucky."

"Lucky?" I repeat with shock. "How the hell is that lucky?"

"You don't have to live up to anyone's expectation because everyone's expecting you to fail," Hinata explains, looking towards me as though I were made of gold. "You can prove them wrong and they'll all be at your feet. If I succeed, I can only meet their expectations—all I get is, "As expected of a Mitani." If I fall just a tiny bit short of what everyone else expects, I'm a disgrace. If you fall short of what everyone else expects, you're dead. And if you don't die, you've succeeded."

My mouth forms a soft "O" as I realize what she's said to me. She told me that she envies me. And the thing is, she's right. I've survived when no one else thought I would or wanted to help me. I made it that far without any aid, and now that I've come here with some help, I still got pretty far on my own. I think I have, right? I mean, I'm at the bottom of the heap, so that's not good, but hey, I tried, and I did succeed a little, right?

Then she smacks me upside the head and I fly off my chair and crash into the ground. "Itaaaaaaiiiiiii!"

"Baka, everyone's leaving. Are you just gonna sit there like a moron?" she growls, fist still clenched in the air. Her crystalline eyes glint with a fury that terrifies me as I sink further against the ground with a tiny squeak.

I don't think I like this girl.

"H-hai," I gasp like a fish out of water.

She smiles innocently (yeah right), and jumps over her chair, trotting after the students. Her braid swings merrily behind her. By the time I stand up, the proctor's standing over me.

"Taketa-san, was it?" he repeats, looking down at me with disgust. I nod. "I realize you're a slow one, but try not to slow everyone else down—especially not one of the top students."

"Huh?" I ask, staring up at him. That's insulting.

He glares at me coldly, and as he walks away, he explains, "One rotten apple spoils the bushel, you know. I just don't want your stupidity to spread. Meet back here tomorrow, will you? We'll be assigning classes."

As he leaves me alone in the empty auditorium, I stand bewildered in the doorway. A stinging bruise is forming on my jaw, but I don't really mind too much. I 'm more concerned about the attack at my pride.

What pride? I remind myself, looking down at the floor dejectedly. I swear, I'm gonna cry. The lump in my throat won't go down.

Maybe Hinata was right about me not having to fear failure, since all I really have to do to fail is die, but maybe if I had a little more going for me I'd be ok right now. Maybe I wouldn't have been judged so quickly, maybe the proctor wouldn't have basically spat in my face.

I wipe my wrist across my eyes, though I haven't actually shed any tears yet. My wrist is moist. The salt stings a little cut I got a week or so back, but I don't mind. I look down at the floor as I drag myself from the room, out into the open where I find Maeru staring at me.

"I saw ya got in last… Got the dropout pep talk?" he asks.

I look up to him, and he sees my face. He sighs, and motions for me to come closer. "I get the same speech from Kuchiki-taichou every time we get new meat from the academy. Don't let it bug ya too much."

I nod.

Normally, I would never even dream of drinking sake. Now I'm not too sure. Maeru's got a bottle in front of him, and he's offered me a dish. I stare at it for a moment. Eh, what the hell? I reach forward and take it. I sip it… I swish it around in my mouth a little.

"BLEH!" I spit all over Maeru. "Th-that's disgusting!"

He's not amused. He glares at me for a moment, then shrugs as he grabs a towel and wipes some of the sake off of his face and neck. "Then don't drink it, baka."

"I didn't!"

"Well don't spit it on me," he mutters, tossing the towel at me with enough force to knock me back and off of my cushion. I smack on the floor, but I don't bother getting up.

"Geez, Saru-chibi," he grumbles, taking a swig of the sake, "Y'need to lighten up a bit. Nobles pick on Rukongai rats; that's how it goes."

I frown at the ceiling. There's a small hole in it, and a bird peeks through before flying away. "Rukongai rats look down on me," I sigh. "Is that how it goes?"

"Damn straight," he growls, gulping down more sake and pouring more from his gourd into his dish as he speaks. "The higher up they are, the closer to nobility they are. See, people from this district 'ere may as well be royalty compared to people from where you are."

"So basically I'm the rat shit?" I grumble. Maeru nods before taking another swig of sake. "Great."

"Sure is," he agrees with heavy sarcasm.

I stand up, and when he doesn't ask where I'm going, I feel just a bit annoyed. "Don't you have to go back to sereitei?"

"Eh, Kuchiki-taichou won't miss me," he dismisses the question, sipping more sake. I roll my eyes and step outside of the room. I need a break.

When I step outside, however, I'm a bit shocked by what I see. There's a man in a shihakusho, like Maeru's, and he's wearing a haori over it. I stare at him. He's wearing a white haori, bloodied and torn. His hair is spiked up like a giant star, his face is long and scarred. A long sword sits in a sheath on his hip.

I've never been so terrified in my life.

I was gonna go for a walk, but now I kind of want to hide under the floorboards of the inn. I can't move, though. It feels like a crushing pressure has appeared just because that man showed up. He's walking towards the sereitei too. For a brief second, his lone eye flickers towards me, but he dismisses me quickly and keeps walking.

Is this a taichou?

"K-kami," I mutter as he walks away. The further he gets away from me, the lighter the pressure gets. I stand in front of the inn until he's completely gone. The second he's gone, I let out a puff of air and walk in the opposite direction.

That was anything but refreshing, I think.

Today, we're moving into our rooms. Maeru's been joking that now that I'm gone he won't have a pet monkey to drag around anymore, and I don't think it's funny. He's been joking, "Little Saru-chibi might not be so tiny next time I see 'im." I don't think it's funny at all. He laughs as he reenters Sereitei, leaving me alone in front of the shinoreijutsuin. But still, it's better than if he had left me alone in the freezing snow.

I guess I owe him a thank you.

Sure enough, they don't really give us rooms so much as they give us bunks and small chests to hold our clothes. They keep us separated slightly walls keeping us in groups of six. I guess that's so that we don't have to worry about being watched sleeping. I've never had a bed before—not since I was a baby anyways. I look up at the loft bed, and instantly decide the top bunk has to be better. I'd rather sleep on a loft than on the ground again. Just as I reach for the ladder, though—

"I call top bunk!"

And then I feel a foot on the top of my head as the silver-haired boy, Isamu, jumps over my head and onto the top bunk, bags and all. My jaw drops. "Y-y-you…"

"M-m-me?" he laughs, smirking down at me. He's even standing on the bed as though he'd just climbed a formidable mountain and is enjoying the view.

"I was gonna take that," I mumble.

"Well y'shoulda called it," he laughs, rolling onto his back and lying down on the top bunk, using his bag as a pillow. "I called it first."

"D-do I have to bunk with you, or can I take the one next to you?"

"Pretty sure you have to bunk with me," he says, "That's why they gave us numbers."

"Well, can we trade numbers?" I ask. He looks at me like I'm stupid—I'm getting really tired of people doing that—and then dismisses the question. He lies back on his bed and stares at the ceiling contentedly. "So no then?"

"You're kinda weird," he murmurs, reaching into his bag and removing a book. He opens it up and flips through it aimlessly.

I frown. "So are you."

"You're not getting this bunk," he warns me, turning a gray eye my way. Somehow I'm not as intimidated as I would have been a week ago—after seeing that guy walking down the street, after that nearly gave me a heart attack, I don't find him as horrifying. "Just take the bottom; you're small, you're not gonna hit your head or anything."

I suppose the following sigh is one of submission, because I look into my bag—there's nothing in it other than my new uniform and the scarf Maeru lent me. I forgot to give it back. I shrug as I sit down on the bunk, staring at the floor.

"Got any family?" he asks me. I look up to him curiously, though I can't see past the bunk.

"Not really," I murmur. "Not blood-related if that's what you mean."

"Nothing at all?" he asks, peeking down at me.

"Well, I have Maeru-san," I say with a shrug, looking up at him. His eyes remain forever relaxed, which irritates me to no end. He looks at me funny, and then I add, "He's the shinigami who found me."

"That's not family," he said with a laugh. "Family gets you connections."

"I took his surname," I say with a shrug.

He laughs a bit, then rolls back onto his bed. "I'm Isamu, in case you forgot."

"Masaru," I mumble.

"Hah! Monkey," he laughs.

"Shut up!"

Two more boys enter our dorm room, and these are the twins. Like I said before, they have hair cropped to their heads, like it was shaved off and then someone let it grow back a bit. They look like sheared sheep though. Their hair isn't straight like Maeru's, it's gotta be curly.

"The Mideki twins are here!" one of them announces. The other one smacks him upside the head. "Itai!"

"Baka, don't make a scene," the other one grumbles.

"Aww, Shigeo, you never let me have any fun," Sataro whines, walking up to the bed and climbing up the ladder. The other—Shigeo—sits down on the bottom bunk.

"Ah shit, we got the dropout and the second-rate noble."

Isamu glares at Sataro—or at least I think he does. "This second-rate noble's gonna kick your ass if you say that again."

I look up at Isamu. He's not happy.

"Please, you'd get your ass kicked by dropout over there," Sataro quips. I narrow my eyes. He laughs at this, pointing at me. "Hey look, I think he's pissed!"

"No shit," I growl.

"Knock it off, baka," a new voice calls. I look to the side, and two more boys walk in. The one who spoke looks mainly at Sataro. "Ishi, and if any of you make any smartass quips about the rukongai, I'll kick your ass."

"Says the dropout," the other quips.

Looking at them, Ishi is a tall lad, at least six feet tall. He's reached his adolescence if nothing else. He's tall, his skin is lightly tanned, his eyes are brown as chocolate. His hair is black, slicked back and spiked at the end in a duck-butt kind of cut. The other boy, nameless, is short by comparison, only four feet tall—just over half a foot shorter than I am. He's not scrawny or gangly like me though, and his hair is neatly parted down the middle, and falls to his chin. His eyes are black. I don't like either one of them.

"Shiroyama-san to you," he murmurs. Kuroba, then.

I yawn as I fall back into my bed. Above me, I hear Isamu remark, "At least I don't have to bunk with you four. That would suck."

"So I guess bunking with the dropout isn't so bad?" I chime in.

"Course; I need a little butler anyways," he laughs. This makes my brow twitch.

With a sardonic smirk, I look up to him with an expression that screams, 'well fuck you too.' He chuckles and goes back to bed. I roll into place as the others find their bunks (Ishi claims the top bunk on account of being taller).

The lights go out.

I fall asleep.

I hate waking up in the morning. Of all people, Isamu wakes me up, tapping me on the forehead until I can ignore it no longer. My feeble groaning and brushing his hand away have only succeeded in making him poke me harder. I've had enough. I open my eyes, and this time I grab his wrist. "I get it."

Isamu smiles at me. How can he be so laid-back? "Ok, ok, no need to be a girl about it."

"You're the girl," I grumble, sitting up and tossing his hand back at him. Of course, it's his hand, so he catches it and waves at me.

"Right, like any girl would wanna talk to you," he jokes with a grin. I glare at him.

We shower in cold water.

We eat cold food.

We exchange cold glances.

We sit in cold rooms.

By the end of the day, I'm about ready to rip my hair out. Everything's freezing. Even me. I'm freezing. More than anyone else, at that. Hinata, when she saw me at breakfast, told me that they do this on the first day every year. Sort of a cold welcome, but alright. It's better than where I was.

Though it doesn't make much sense, Ishi's the nicest one of all of my roommates. He's also the only one actually in a class with me, which is a bit disappointing. I guess we really are the dropouts. Three of the others tease us about it, but I don't mind so much anymore. Ishi's about ready to throw some punches, and hell, when I learn how, I might even cause some damage.

I guess I'm just not used to fighting yet.

I'm hoping that will change about me.

This is the start of something amazing; this is the start of Taketa Masaru.

A/N: So there you have it! Masaru's growin' up! *sniff sniff* I'm just kidding, he's not gonna be a completely different character overnight. However, this is the last of my, "The start of something," chapters. So now you don't have to read the same thing over and over and over while searching through chapters; lucky you. In any case, even though I haven't gotten many hits or any reviews, I'm hoping that will start to change. I. Love. Reviews. You can even troll me if you like. I don't mind~!

Vocab:

Shinoreijutsuin – Shinigami Academy

Hai – Yes

Kami - God

Kuchiki-taichou – Yes, I mean Byakun 8D