DISCLAIMER: No. That's it.
Author's Note: I'm really sorry for updating this so belatedly! I wanted to write earlier, but my life has been pretty messed up recently, so I couldn't... anyway, I'll keep this short, and hope you enjoy!
Tōshirō was tempted to bang his head against the table.
He ended up deciding against it, though. No matter how justified he felt it to be, the fact remained that it was a childish thing to do.
And this ridiculously flimsy table probably would collapse if I did that anyway.
The taichō glowered at the table, as if it had offended him. He missed the elegant mahogany desk in his office – this table resembled a pile of firewood in comparison. It was pathetic, really.
Yet again, he considered trying to bang some sense into his head. It might help him figure out precisely why he had allowed his fukutaichō to drag him along on this ridiculous mission to the Real World.
Speaking of Matsumoto –
A sudden whistling reached his ears.
Tōshirō barely ducked in time to avoid getting hit by a… paper airplane?
This is ridiculous.
Ignoring the teacher, he turned in his seat to glare at the group seated at the back of Class 1-03.
He could barely believe the sight that met his eyes.
Yumichika, who was seated by the window, had taken out a vanity set and was currently using something – mascara? – on his eyelashes.
Tōshirō suppressed a shudder, and decided that he really didn't want to think about it.
Moving on.
Ikkaku was leaning back in his chair, apparently choosing to use only two legs instead of four. Either he's testing out the chair's durability, or he really doesn't know that it's likely to collapse if he continues doing that.
Although, knowing the Eleventh Division as I do, it's probably the second choice.
The taichō quickly dispelled any thoughts of warning the third seat about the potential dangers. He probably wouldn't listen, anyway.
His gaze travelled to the last pair, and he nearly choked. Are they… passing notes in class?
A second glance confirmed his guess, and he suddenly realised who had thrown the paper airplane. The handwriting on the paper could belong to no one else but one person.
Namely, Matsumoto.
Who chose that particular moment to wave at him, pointing the paper with a ridiculously exaggerated motion of her hand.
Tōshirō shot her a glare as he turned to face the front again, surveying the rest of the class.
The only exception to the mess was Rukia, who had taken her – evidently customary – seat next to Ichigo. She was currently berating the substitute shinigami for not paying attention in class.
Tōshirō could practically hear the younger Kuchiki saying 'I want to listen, even if you don't want to!', even though he was sitting at the opposite end of the classroom.
He shook his head, trying to decide which made less sense: the fact that Ichigo had been able to score quite well despite not paying attention, or the fact the Rukia wanted to listen to the teacher talking.
Of course, it was the principle of the thing. It wasn't like they were really learning anything new.
Why, precisely, does the History lesson have to be today of all days? Just my luck, I guess.
The taichō sighed as he carefully unfolded the piece of paper. A message was scrawled across the centre of the page in Matsumoto's untidy handwriting.
He stared at it for a few moments. Then his eyes narrowed.
"Lighten up, taichō"? I have no intention of ending up in the principal's office, thank you very much.
He had just picked up his pen to write a reply when a crash resounded through the classroom as Ikkaku's chair broke.
Tōshirō gave up. He banged his head against the table – several times, in fact.
So much for staying out of trouble.
LATER THAT DAY…
"Okay class, let's go out to the field!"
Tōshirō held a cool hand to his forehead as he winced. The teacher's voice was way too cheery. The mere sound of it was capable of driving the usually unflappable taichō up the wall.
And the previous visit to the principal's office had not helped matters.
I repeat, why me?
"Remember to bring your towels! We'll run a couple of laps, then start playing baseball!"
Groans could be heard from almost all the girls in the class at the announcement as everyone left the relatively cool classroom with varying degrees of reluctance.
The taichō scowled as he looked around him.
Most of the boys looked happy at any excuse to get out of the classroom, even if it meant subjecting themselves to the sweltering heat outdoors. The only visible exception was a certain Quincy.
And, of course, a certain Hitsugaya Tōshirō.
The class reached the main doors all too soon, the teacher walking – bouncing, Tōshirō thought – towards the field as they trudged along behind her.
She paused suddenly when she noticed that one student had stopped walking, and was standing under the awning above the doors.
"What's wrong, Hitsugaya? Hurry up!"
Said student resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes, pointing to the sky instead. "It's going to rain," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
Most of the class looked up at the sky. Sure enough, dark, dense clouds were gathering in the sky right above where they were standing. One particularly large one was starting to obscure the sun.
The taichō noticed one member of the class looking at him, with some measure of suspicion – and a slight bit of gratitude? – in his gaze. He's quick.
The teacher's voice reached Tōshirō's ears again.
"Oh, come on! It's not going to rain – "
She hadn't even finished her sentence when a huge clap of thunder deafened all those standing at the field. Raindrops fell from the sky above as the temperature seemed to drop rapidly.
Only the Quincy had made it back indoors on time. He now stood beside Tōshirō in a rather companionable silence, watching their teacher get drenched.
It was rather amusing, after all.
As the class began to troop back into the school building, Tōshirō sighed.
He wondered how a powerless Quincy could have possibly figured out what was happening faster than a group of seated shinigami.
Never mind.
2nd Author's Note: In case you haven't figured it out yet, (though I doubt it) this occurs during the Arrancar Arc, when Hitsugaya leads the team to Karakura High. Poor guy...
3rd (and last) Author's Note: I hope it's good enough :D This was inspired by a Geography lesson of all things. I don't know why. Anyway, I hope to be able to update soon, although I can't promise anything. Let's just say that the election I was talking about a few chapters ago went... slightly too well. Yup. But rest assured that I will write the next one as soon as I can. And remember to review! (Go to my deviantART account for more updates! I have Bleach fanart posted there too! It can be found at tadayorokobi .deviantart .com [without the spaces!] :D)