A/N: First, I'm sorry to anybody who likes the antagonist here, I had to make someone the villain. XD Secondly, kudos and love to anyone who can guess who the unnamed characters are in this chapter. There are 3. Two are directly spoken to, and one is mentioned in narration. Best of luck, and enjoy! Ja ne!

Both hands darted up to his head—to his feelers since his wings were flattened against his skin under his shirt—and pressed them down into his hair nervously as he also rose to his feet. "Cover…cover up what, exactly?"

He couldn't quite keep the waver from his tone. If Shinji could already see him, see the real him, and was rejecting him...for the love of the King, let him be wrong for once in his life.

"Yer preference." The blond frowned, "Oi, did I headbutt ya?"

He felt his own head. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd done something with his skull and not felt it. His mother chalked it up to his habit of sitting upside down on the couch whenever he was watching TV. All the blood rushing to his head made his vision go fuzzy, which meant real life looked more like the images in his dreams, but his mom said that it had made his skull so thick that he could crack concrete.

The brunette relaxed and breathed, letting go of his poor feelers. Oooh, he'd need to straighten those out later, they were all bent in the middle. "Oh, that…well I don't give a shit who knows my preference," he said with a little sniff. "If they don't like it, they can go suck rotten turtle eggs. And you didn't headbutt me, it was the concrete," he assured, rubbing his now-throbbing temples—the drawbacks of sensitive feelers..."But, er, about the—did you say pompous windbag? Most fitting…I have memorized the text so I don't have to listen to a word the foul narcissist says. Might I offer my brain for your picking and we can do the assigned work together?"

Shinji desperately tried not to choke on his own tongue, leaning heavily on his persona as a flirt and a playboy, "Aww, cutey, brawn and brains, how sweet. But seriously," he cocked his hip, smirking with more confidence than he really felt, "ya should care a little more 'bout yer rep. Ya can't jus' go askin' anybody ta be yer study partner. If ya aren't careful, y'ill wind up wi' only that option, an' trust me when I say ya don' wanna be stuck wi' me."

That was something of a lie, because very few people were smarter or better academically than Shinji at that dinky back-water college, but he knew the second that the handsome other found out about his habits, he'd turn tail. It really was for the best if the older male attached himself to someone who could actually be seen in public without risk of repercussions.

Aizen raised an eyebrow, some of his usual poise returning. He reached out and felt Shinji's forehead with the back of his hand, then frowned and mock tsked. "Nope, no fever...so you're not ill. That must mean you're trying to pull one over on me. I would say you were being stupid, but I know for a fact you're much too intelligent. Therefore," he folded his arms over his chest, "you must be trying to trick me into choosing an inferior study partner. I am...very selective of whom I desire to keep company with, Shinji. Generally speaking, I have little tolerance for the unintelligent; I therefore search out the smartest people I can find, and choose from that small pool. You are the only person on this campus," in all honesty on this continent, but he wasn't going to say that, "I am interested in keeping company with. The rest of this university can go schtup itself."

Uncertain whether the tall brunette was confused or being absolutely honest, Shinji couldn't come up with a snarky comment. So, he shrugged and turned towards the on-campus coffee shop. "I dunno 'bout you, but I can't digest anythin' Prof. Mary comes up with, without caffeine. If yer comin', c'mon. Th' sooner we git outta th' open the—"

In taking that first step, he was cut off by the wall of muscle in his way. "Well, well, well. If it ain't th' fairy. What's this? Yer infectin' th' other students now? Thought we told ya that yer kind weren't welcome here. That means whatever cooties ya used ta spread yer d'sease, ya need ta git rid of it. Can't have ya turnin' others fruity. Next thing m' boys an' me'll know we'll be in th' locker room an' yer cooties'll make it imposs'ble ta change b'fore th' game."

Meatlug poked a fat finger into Shinji's already bruised shoulder.

"Look, Ginjou, I don't want trouble. I just wanna get my coffee an' get home ta study. Can I do that this time? Please?" He tried to sound bored, but really the last thing he wasn't to do was risk his crush falling under those thick, simian-like fists.

"Y'hear that, boys? Th' fairy 'jus' wants 'is coffee'." The gang jeered and laughed, Ginjou pushed him again. "I dun' remember tellin' ya that ya could buy anythin' from here. Who knows, yer gay might rub off on yer money."

"Shinji-san has not 'infected' me with anything," Aizen growled and beyond his control, brown irises turned to feral slits as his claws came out of his fingernails in preparation for the battle he could already feel coming. "Homosexuality is not a disease. It cannot be transmitted through contact and it is not an airborne virus like the flu. And if Shinji-san wants to get some caffeine before going home to study, he can damn well get some," his voice was almost a hiss. "I do not suffer fools lightly, Kuugo, and you have just displayed an ignorance level so high I am tempted to rearrange your organs in an attempt to see if perhaps your liver has more capable intelligent functions than your brain."

After his Shinji nearly leaving him, he was already on edge, and this just pushed him closer to stooping to physical violence. He preferred to use his words, mind and illusions if he could, but for anyone this stupid, he had no compulsions about throwing away his morals to beat them into a bloody pulp.

"Oi. So ya are a fuckin' fairy, jus' like th' other one, Jappy?" Ginjou sneered, puffing out his chest. "Figures. Pretty boy like you? Bet all yer lookin' fer here is a piece o' tail ya c'n bang in th' Stacks."

The rest of his gang, five other equally burly, thick-headed males ranging from nineteen to twenty-five, joined in jeering Aizen in all ways from his sexuality to his appearance to his heritage, as they not-too-subtly formed a ring around the pair. Cracking knuckles and scuffing shoes were heard as others rolled their shoulders, all limbering up for what they hoped would be an epic beating. Shinji looked around at them, his back to Aizen, and shivered slightly. He'd faced this group more times than he could count and he really didn't want to see their brass knuckles and steel-toed boots pounding into the handsome male who'd only made the mistake of talking to him.

"Give it a rest, Ginjou. He's got nothin' ta do with this." The blond insisted.

"Fuck that, fudgepacker. He stepped b'tween me an' my fun. He's gotta pay fer bein' that stupid." The burly brunette sneered again, the sunlight glinting off the silver cross hanging around his neck.

Aizen counted himself lucky that his back was to his mate because he couldn't stop the flicker of his illusion for a few moments if he tried. He smiled, and it was not, exactly, a smile. It was more like a Grimmjow Grin™ combined with a Gin Smirk™ with a mouthful of shark teeth thrown in. Every tooth was deadly sharp, and the corners of his mouth stretched further than any human's ever should. It was a frightening thing, but they'd done it. They had successfully riled him. Woken it up. His demonic side, the embodiment of violence, was up and eager to show these foolish mortals what a man of his caliber could do when pressed.

He reached forward, almost too fast to see, and took hold of that cross with a silent reinforcement spell put into place to make sure when he made his next move the chain it hung on wouldn't snap.

"Stupid, eh? Fairy? Lookin' fer tail?"

His voice grated like a rusty hinge as his cultured manners fell away. They were wasted on the likes of these. No, this lot deserved every ounce of human street rat he had. He yanked on the cross, hard, so hard the taller man was forced to bend if he didn't want to get choked as the metal of the chain bit into his skin.

"If Ah'm th' stupid one, chil', how'z it yer th' one dun know how ta pick yer battles, eh?"

"Kill 'em!" Ginjou snarled, trying to seem the big, tough gang-leader he had been moments before, though his heartbeat had increased and sweat was beginning to pour down his back, in spite of the chill in the air.

The other five jumped at Shinji, who ducked and rolled to avoid getting hit, but still tried his hardest to keep them off of the boy he was starting to think of as his friend. Punches were swung, kicks missed and landed, bodies crashing together, each in the attempt to cull the blond from the brunette, in spite of Shinji's topsy-turvy, upside down fighting style.

Aizen's fist wound the chain tighter and that hand seized Ginjou's neck, the other taking his belt. Then, as if the massive man weight no more than five pounds, he lifted him off the floor, whirled, and used him like a hammer to bowl over the ones attempting to hit Shinji. Releasing the useless sack of meat, he flew into the remaining two like a bowling ball aimed for pins. Then he lashed out—feet, fists, it didn't much matter what he hit him with as long as he made them hurt, made them bleed. He socked one in the jaw, kicked another in the knee. One had managed to latch onto Shinji with one hand and Aizen grabbed the wrist of that offensive hand touching his mate and pinched so hard the man's nerves screamed and forced him to let go. He then, still gripping his wrist, bent just enough to swing the man like a sack on a string and sent him crashing, side-first, into a nearby tree trunk. Grinning that murderous, horrifying smile of sharp teeth yet again, he gestured the others on.

"Come'n git schooled, bitches!"

The force with which Shinji was released made the slim blond fall to his rump, blinking up at Aizen, who was standing over him—defending him. "Wow..."

Ginjou recovered before any of the others, and wielding the messenger bag from his shoulder like a flail, he launched himself at the brunette. The others fell back, nursing injuries and looking fairly pathetic, but not their gang-leader. He roared in outrage.

Aizen blocked the bag with his left arm and twisted at the last moment to kick Ginjou in the gut—the man's own force caused him to double over, choking on bile as lungs, diaphragm, and stomach all rebelled in agony. A second kick to his chest sent him flying back. Aizen had to forcibly remind himself that the fucker was human, and needed to catch his breath or he'd suffocate and die. Stupidly fragile, humans. It was a wonder they ever fought at all. His still feral eyes darted up to the 'backup', daring, begging one to come forward. He wasn't done with them! He wanted a reason, any reason, an excuse to pummel them some more!

"MAH! Ginjou!" His second in command, a tall, skinny guy with strange heart-shaped sunglasses, wailed. "You two catch him. We aren't equipped to deal with Jujutsu."

The two indicated each grabbed one of the burly gangleader's arms, and the whole group of them turned tail, running like the scared dogs they were. The second in command wasn't that far behind them, but he paused long enough to call over his shoulder.

"Just you two wait! We'll get Chad! He'll show you two what you get for messing with us!"

Shinji shook his head, and laughed a little. "Wow...you're really good. How come I never saw you at the competitions last year?"

Aizen sniffed, dusting off his pants and shirt as though they were dirty, though he'd never been knocked down, and held out a hand to help Shinji up. "Competitions? What competitions? And what was he talking about?"

The touch of their hands as the blond accepted the help was electrifying. "Hai! Jujutsu. It's a form of martial arts. And the team competes all across the country. I'm their waterboy for now. My mom never liked the idea of me fighting. So, I'm rather behind everyone else, but I'm learning."

What he didn't say, as he too brushed himself off and re-shouldered his bag, was that the way he was learning was by watching the team spar and practice together, always from the outside and never with any actual instruction. The sensei didn't even know he had an interest in it, because the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. So he practiced the katas when nobody was watching, and ran errands for the team the rest of the time.

"Well, I, for one, believe that everyone should know how to defend themselves," Aizen replied firmly, patting at a few spots of dirt Shinji couldn't reach on his back. "As for what I just did…it…er…wasn't exactly martial arts." A light flush painted itself across his cheeks. "That was mostly street-brawling. Completely undisciplined and no-holds-barred. I have to admit, I was—I am—enraged by the way they've been treating you for over a year. This was payback."

"Oi. What makes you think I can't defend myself?" Shinji jutted his chin out at the taller male and crossed his arms over his chest. "Six against one isn't exactly fair odds, y'know."

"You have never, in over a year, hit back," he said simply. "You dodge excellently, but you do not retaliate. The only logical reason is because you don't know how to fight them. If you did, you would have…because nobody can tolerate an idiot like Ginjou throwing such insults their way for long. I'm an example. I haven't blown my top like that in years..." he smoothed his hair back and cleared his throat. "And I suppose, given the violence I've just displayed, I cannot fault you if you do not want to...associate with me."

"Are you kidding? That was awesome!" Shinji grinned, then sobered and scuffed the ground with his shoe. "And I know how to fight back...I just don't. I'm a pacifist. I hate violence. Fighting just leads to more fighting. Mahatma Ghandi once said 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'. I'm happy just knowing how to dodge. Eventually they'll get tired and find someone else to pick on. I just turn the other cheek until then."

Aizen's eyebrow rose. "Well…'In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is King', so I suppose you're the better man between us and will one day rule us all," he said smoothly, with a smile that was nothing like the demonic thing he'd used on the gang. "There's nothing wrong with avoiding violence. However, I would be more comfortable knowing personally that you know how to defend yourself, so," he hooked his arm with the slimmer one and started to walk. "Kindly show me this 'jujutsu club'. Then you and I can learn together and practice with each other."

"Uh...okay."

The blond's grin became lop-sided as his mask slipped a fraction, and he directed them to the athletic building, for once not dreading the walk past all of the cliques and groups. He was so absorbed in just being with Aizen that he didn't even hear the undercurrent of murmurs following the pair across the campus accompanied by not-so-subtle pointing and blatant staring. The overall attitude was shock, with a mixture of pity and disdain. How could the handsome transfer student be at all interested in the campus freak?

"Well, also, there's a second, far more pleasant aspect to learning how to fight," Aizen added in a stage whisper. "Don't go telling people, but some men actually like knowing the man who has willingly prostrated himself to sucking their cock so well that their eyes cross has the physical power and capability to throw them across the room," he confided, deliberately letting himself shiver. Every part of him, demon and human, loved having a partner balanced in strength and intelligence.

"So that's yer motive then." Shinji leered. "What makes ya think I can't already do that?"

"Shinji-san, no offense, but could you pick up a man the size of Ginjou and throw him? He's twice your size, and you've already mentioned you've just started learning this 'Jujutsu'." Aizen raised an eyebrow.

"Eh...no. But yer not as big as Gin-joke is." The blond spit the man's butchered name. "An' besides I wouldn't waste my energy on trash like him, even if I could throw him across a room."

He rolled his shoulders and looked away. Damn the brunette for being able to see past his act. He knew the basics of how to throw someone that grabbed him, but not enough to really use it in a fight unless his opponent was in just the right angle.

"So then you ought to learn," the taller man said with a little grin. "And true, no point in wasting energy on a fucknut like him when a crotch-shot will do the job just as well and cause a hell of a lot more pain," he added with a positively sadistic grin before he coughed and blushed. "That came out sounding rather twisted, didn't it? Who would even want to touch that brute's crotch, even for the purpose of causing him pain?"

Shinji giggled, leaning on the door to the gym. "That's if the steroids he's used haven't shriveled it up ta be smaller than a vagoo, ne?" He winked, and opened the door, calling into the open area, "Oi! Sensei!? I've brought you a new fighter!"

Aizen was still laughing from Shinji's comment, and wrapped an arm around Shinji's shoulders. "Yes, Sensei, this one says that I apparently belong on the 'Jujutsu' team. Since I have no idea what the hell he's talking about, I demand he be the one to teach me," he grinned.

"That so?" The light of the basketball lights shone off the bald head that leaned out of the coaches' office. "Shinji, what shitty fag have you picked up this time?"

"He ain't shitty, Sensei! Ya should've seen what he did ta Ginjou!" The blond grinned, honest and open this time. It was clear this man, somewhere in his late forties, was one of the few people on campus that accepted Shinji for who and what he was.

Dressed in hakama and an open kosode draped around his shoulders, the sensei stepped out onto the floor of the basketball court; his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes squinted, with bright red kabuki marks on the outer corners, and he shifted the toothpick he held in his teeth from one side to the other, before spitting it out at the wall, and crossing to a set of already-spread out floor mats. "Alright, newbie, show me what ya've got, and maybe I'll let Blondie teach ya something."

Again, Aizen raised a brunette eyebrow. "...what exactly do you want me to do? I rather brawled like a street-rat with Ginjou. Forgive my language, but he pissed me the fuck off. That does not happen often. So what are you asking? You want me to just attack you?"

The sensei sniffed, looking the taller boy up and down from head to toe. "Yah, just attack me. I wanna see how strong you are. You already told me, you've got no idea what Jujutsu is."

Aizen looked at the man. Tall, solidly built. Muscled without being steroid induced. He launched himself at the coach, hands grabbing onto his shoulders, and flipped his body over the bald head to land on the other side, dragging the heavy man with him and using his weight to flip him over entirely, crouching and using his own back like the center on a see-saw to pull the man down until he hit the cushion on the floor.

The sensei grinned a feral expression that was all too familiar, and wrapped his own legs around the brunette's so that as they hit the mat they rolled, deflecting most of the impact and springing both of them back up onto their feet again. The kosode flew up into the air and the bald man's foot lashed out to hook Aizen's neck as he bent to spin on his hand, bringing the brunette around to the side, aiming to land on his back on the mats.

"Ah, by Grimmjow's fuzzy ass, Blondie was right 'bout ya."

Aizen hands caught himself and he shoved, the force allowing him to bounce back onto his feet, neck aching from where it had been hooked as he dropped and kicked the bald man square in the back of the knee—this was a fight!

"Oh yeah?" He wasn't even out of breath. "How on earth do you know that Grimmjow's ass is fuzzy? Hell, how do you know who Grimmjow is?" His knee came up and hit the man in the hip, making them both wince when bone hit bone.

Allowing his legs to buckle gave the sensei the opportunity to jump away from the impact on his hip, again using his hand to pivot himself around, this time low to the ground in a leg sweep that was easily jumped over but provided the opening for his other hand to grab Aizen's shirt and launch himself back up into the brunette's face. He laughed, hot breath spilling between them.

"Any fighter worth his spit knows Grimmjow, and his brother, Renji, Gods of Conflict. S' why offense is blue an' defense is red. An' his ass is fuzzy cuz he's a goddamned cat. They both are. Why? What's it to you, boy?"

The weight of their impact landed the both of them on the floor, sensei on top of Aizen, but the brunette had the older man's legs pinned beneath him. Neither could get up without someone submitting to the other. So, the sensei, being the instructor between the two, and really fearing what his other half would say should he get in trouble with the dean again, released his hold on the brunette, and wriggled back and away with a bow of respect.

Aizen also gave a bow of respect as he rose, breathing deep. "Because I am also familiar with them, albeit in a different way," he said with a slight grin. "And just for your information, they're so far from brothers it's truly amusing to hear them called that. Especially Renji as the god of defense," he snorted.

Renji? Defense? Not unless sensei's policy was 'the best defense is a good offense'. When he stood, he righted his hair and gave a little cough. "If anyone should be a god for defense, it ought to be Renji's husband, Gin. Little illusionist fox is excellent at diverting his husband's violence."

The sensei on the other hand righted his kosode on his shoulders and sniffed. "Ya might be right, I'm not big on th' readin' thing Shin-chan's inta. But yer good enough ta make the team. First practice is at five tamorrah. Don' be late." And he walked off, leaving the two alone again.

"Mah, Sousuke, ya sound like ya know 'em personally." Shinji frowned, curious.

Aizen chuckled. "You could say that," he replied. "I am...intimately familiar with a number of facts and legends, enough to comfortably say I know them very well." He once again went to his mate with a suggestive grin. "So…what would you like to do now?"

Shinji merely laughed and waved him to follow, leading the brunette back out into the fading sunlight to finally get to their homework.