Ushio's face was becoming very close to inventing new shades of "embarrassed red" at this point. Trying to say 'mistress' was a difficult hurdle, and Hiromi's teasing enquiries were not making it easier. Still fumbling over her words, the bashful could do little more than avert her eyes and try to regain control of her speech. Preferably before too many people took notice of her discomfort.

"No-no-nothing's wrong! I'm pe-perfectly fine!" she finally managed to blurt out, in a shamefully high-pitched squeak. Clamping her lips shut for a moment, she quietly shook her head and continued, "I-I don't need to rest... um, l-let's go now?"
the longer she stayed in one place, the more Ushio felt that the remaining students were looking at her. She didn't want any more embarrassment at the moment.

It was frustrating that her feint had been anticipated, but that could be dealt with. More annoying was that the girl had clearly taken the hint that the glow could be dangerous and reacted completely the wrong way; Jen had been after a defensive attitude rather than a counter-attack--a ranged one, obviously. When it came to the abilities of Divine Gears, she simply couldn't compete on equal ground.

There was no time to think of a strategy to overcome the beam of light by the time it was launched and all that was left was to react on instinct. For most people, being confronted by a magical swordbeam would be an incentive to dodge or find some obstacle to use as a shield. The British girl wasn't that sort of person: having invested in an aggressive start, she was going to carry this all the way through and proclaimed a single word in English: "Cut!"

The golden radiance refocused into twin blades of golden light, overlaying the sword's own already sharp edges just in time for her slash to intercept the crackling blue arc. It wasn't cut in two, disappointingly, or destroyed... but it was blocked and pushed off of its hazardous course. The clear ground between the two girls shrunk to nothing as Jen continued to be the aggressor, turning the deflection into a nasty return slash that, had this not been a mock fight, would have carried serious potential to cut from shoulder to navel.

She had to keep this as a swordfight.

---

"Well, I can't say that I'm too excited for the tournament on my behalf. Probably going to bring javelins this year," the armless girl said, thinking back to her defeats in the previous two years. With environments that didn't lend themselves to improvised projectiles and ranged opponents with far too many tricks for keeping away, they had devolved into a battle of attrition each time. "Heracles would probably manifest to berate me if I tried to skip out, and I can't let the school down."

It would be rather bad to let down the patron God of Athletes by refusing to participate in a tournament such as this one, and risking her pact (or at least pissing off the deity behind it) would be a great way to be even more armless than normal. A cloud that rather resembled an angry face made her wonder if that was some sort of signal for considering the idea...

"Ohohoho~"

Hiromi placed a hand over her mouth as she laughed.

"Oh, how adorable, Ushio-chan," she said, smiling as she titled her head to one side. "Very well, let's go."

Her eyes traveled over to a few students who'd gathered nearby. Ah, staring at one of their betters and her maid like that... how rude. It was rather like staring at some sort of royalty? Not in a respectful manner at all, either. She was one of the people who would ensure their victory in this tournament, was she not? So such rudeness was intolerable.

"And we'll eat somewhere these people won't bother us," she added, gesturing to the students. They didn't seem to appreciate that comment at all, but Hiromi ignored the reaction and proceeded outward, beckoning to her maid. If they couldn't deal with it, it was quite simply too bad for them.

"I'm feeling quite partial to some more traditional food, today," Hiromi said.

---

So she'd blocked it. Well, even if it hadn't hit...!

Ruriko was outranged at the moment, which is why, when she wanted to take this into melee range, she had to get in closer. If this angle of attack proved less fruitful, then she would simply adjust Starlight Masamune itself. It could do a lot more then simply cut and fire off blasts of magical energy. And so, she followed the cut through the air, in time to intercept the glowing blade as it swung down. The sound of metal on metal cried out as it struck the side of Ruriko's blade, which skidded along it. Using the momentum of her own charge and slash, she attempted to deflect the swing and counterattack.

An aggressive counterattack could seal a victory quickly. But if the mock battle went longer, Ruriko could adjust.

She was the child of the Adachi family, and that meant she would not fail.

"Javelins? For ranged opponents right? We can be quite a pain to battle." Makoto said with a light chuckle. He had to admit, it is a little fun to play with short-ranged opponents. Shoot, dodge, shoot, dodge, explode. Although the Divine Gears make it easier to close in the distance or block his arrows, he could still just jump around. He could remember every single time someone got pissed off because of it. "I've always been hoping for a more challenging environment though. Like man-made forests or deserts and stuff like those. It would give both players a sort of advantage." And it would feel more natural. After all, weren't they training for more dangerous opponents?

"Not letting the school down, that's probably the thought that's always in the students' minds nowadays thanks to the school's`..." He paused, trying to think of another term that would somehow lighten the blow. "Well, our close calls." Almost everyone has become frustrated because of the string of losses in the history of Otsuki and frankly, they wanted to win for once. There are promising people now though.

Face still burning, Ushio quietly followed her drill-haired friend from the classroom. Her unease slowly abated as they left the prying eyes of the other students behind, but her gaze was still fixed to the floor. She was grateful that Hiromi had removed them from the classroom, but the way they stared didn't sit well with Ushio. Granted, Hiromi's tone could use a bit of work...

"...Eh? Oh, um," Ushio had almost missed the comment, and quickly replied, "th-that sounds good! I'll g-go with that, too."

"Of course it does," replied Hiromi, smiling. There were a few options for more traditional food not far from the school, and it was really a simple matter of deciding which she would like to go to. She guided her maid out of the school, and as she walked, she looked back over her shoulder at the smaller girl. Hmm, there was something a little off that she could immediately capitalize on, that was certain...

"Why aren't you in uniform, Ushio-chan?" she asked, smiling as she looked back over her shoulder. Ahead there was a... bench, and a couple people near it. "It's unbecoming for a maid not to dress appropriately when in her mistress's service."

Resisting the deflection would have been pointless; Ruriko was mostly using her own momentum against her. She wasn't about to give in yet, however, and eating a counter-attack to the face was tantamount to surrender. What, then was the blonde going to do? Maybe she could counter the deflection with a parry of her own but that would be a close-cut thing. So Jen opted for something far less reasonable: going with the downwards momentum of the continued attack and dropping almost to the floor. That, on its own, was simply a bad idea; she took things further by releasing her right hand from the grip and using it as a pivot to spin entirely, expecting that the unexpected move and drop would achieve two goals: avoid the routine counter-attack and provide a cut from an unexpected angle, securing her the win. Of course, it relied on speed and agility since it was hardly the most conservative of moves... but those were two things that the blonde had in abundance.

An objective observer would probably hope for someone to come along and break the fight up before it drew blood. Even though mock battles were far more restrained than real ones, they were still conducted with dangerous weaponry and, in fights like this, it would be far too easy for someone to get seriously hurt...

---

"I shouldn't have been going into battles without some sort of range anyway. My pact gives me good aim... I just got lazy and after breaking about three bows through pulling back too hard, I just went for punching and tossing any rubble that happened to be around," Kaede answered, laughing at her own flaws.

Natural battlefields, huh? They were an interesting idea but... there were so many things about them that would get in the way. "If you set up battles in forests, it would ruin the tournament aspect. It instantly gives advantages to some weapons over another and the crowd can't even watch what's happening well.

"Even if the Gate opens again, what good is a little experience with one-on-one fights in a natural environment going to do? You can get the area practice from training rooms and a better handle on the things from outside, too. The tournament is just a sport, like fencing; it doesn't need to be realistic."

"I guess it didn't work out well in the end huh?" Makoto looked up to the sky and then let out a sigh. "Although aren't you one of our better players? Even with the close-range disadvantage." He asked. She was a third year after all and had more experience. He watched her once before and she was a pretty good fighter, to be expected from someone who has a pact with Heracles.

He then listened in on her reasons on why it would be useless and disadvantageous to have natural terrain for tournaments. He simply shrugged as he looked back at her. "Just a suggestion. It would make everything more interesting. After all, not all battles are meant to be played fair." It was something his father taught him when he was young. That even in the tournaments where they do their best to keep it fair between the competitors, there is an advantage and disadvantage. Just like how long-range opponents fair better against close-range opponents. In real time wars, if that happened, they should make the most out of their environment.

"Do you think we stand a chance of actually standing on top now?" He asked. It was a very common question around, now that the tournament's right around the corner. A lot of unsure people around here, and that included him. He was confident that the fighters were really good but they somehow get beaten at the last round. Frustrating and unbelievable. It's like the God of Misfortune decided to stick with Otsuki every time the tourney's here.

MATSUOKA MINORU

I don't understand the blonde's utterance, but the purpose behind that single syllable is clear to me. It's an activation phrase of some sorts, converting her dazzling, golden glow into bladed edges for her antique weapon. A technique that increases the cutting power of a sword then, though from where I'm standing I'm unable to make out whether it's a beam like the one in that American space movie or some sort of solid thing. Either way, it had made the white girl a lot more dangerous, enough to actually redirect that arc of blue into the ground upon impact. How did Adachi Ruriko successfully get that to work, anyway? Was it actually a solid wave of-

That Germanic girl has quite a good swing on her, doesn't she?

My eyes widen at the sight of the sudden burst of aggression the possibly-German (Germanic, Matsuoka!) Germanic girl had tapped into. It's not the way she rapidly cleared the distance between her and her opponent that surprises me, but the slash she just delivered ... that was a strike to kill! Was this really acceptable in a mock battle? Even if she wasn't going to carry through with it, it looked like real risky business!

I think that's what they call getting lost in the flow, Matsuoka.

Adachi Ruriko, fortunately, manages to block it, her own blade intercepting that of the white girl's. The noise rings out across the room, metal screeching against metal. My gaze doesn't waver from the clash, following the motion of the petite samurai as she tries to push the other sword back. I frown for a second. That's not a particularly good move, is it? Given her proportions, the amount of strength needed to deflect the blow would be too excessive and inefficient, especially against a larger opponent. Yet ... it works against the white girl, because she disengages instead of leveraging her own greater strength. Maybe Adachi-san had predicted that and decided not to look a presented horse in the mouth-

Gift horse in the mouth. You're pretty atrocious at these sayings, Matsuoka.

Wait, did the white girl just drop to the floor? My jaw drops open in shock. That rapid, unorthodox movement catches me completely by surprise. I'm utterly frozen in disbelief as she turns into a blur, making use of an action no folk would ever expect due to its sheer ridiculity and pivoting against the ground to launch into a ... cut? Is she trying to take Adachi-san's legs off? It's beyond what would be acceptable in a mock battle already. It's gone to, to use the American expression-

My left arm suddenly jerks into motion, fingers snapping just before the strike lands.

The <<DIRECTION>> of the white girl's cut immediately reverses back towards the floor. As does any attempt by Adachi Ruriko to parry the blow, moving the two swords as far away from each other as possible.

"-hell in a handbahsket," my mouth finishes my thought on its own. "Maiming's super uncool?"

Knowing that Cloacina can take over my body's movements at any moment does not, in any way, make it easier for me to get used to suddenly losing control over my limbs and whatnot. It's an especially eerie feeling, and hearing myself say things I would never say only serves to compound the issue. 'Super uncool'? Was that the best descriptor you could have used for this situation?

Hey, it's perfectly acceptable!

Peculiar speech patterns of my contracted deity aside, I retake control of my arm, dropping it down by my side once again.

"Sorry, senpai," I say, giving both of my upperclasswomen an apologetic bow. "It was, ah, lookin' a wee bit too dangehrous thah', yaknow?"

What was this?! Dropping to the floor?! That was... it wasn't any sort of move that Ruriko had expected, and was certainly unothodox. But her whole life was for this. The small girl leaped, carrying herself into the air for a moment... and her foot hit steel as she fell, landing on the side of the blade as she did. The silvery form of Starlight Masamune swung to the ready...!

And was suddenly deflected by nothing, just as the sword rapidly hit the ground beneath her. Ruriko stumbled from the sudden opposite directions and lost her balance. Her eyes wide with shock, the small girl toppled back and hit the ground, landing on her rear end rather hard. For a few moments, Ruriko sat there, eyes wide. What just happened? That was completely counter to the movement the foreign girl had been following, and Ruriko herself had been certain nothing deflected her at all! Her opponent didn't have a second weapon or anything like that!

And then their observer spoke again. Ruriko had thought she'd heard him before, and now it confirmed it. He'd done something... Ruriko's heart was filled with a cold fury. Interrupting the mock battle, and that sort of interruption could have been a lot more dangerous than anything else...! Cold fire burning in the small girls eyes, she shot to her feet. Starlight Masamune flashed as it slide back into its sheath, and she rounded on the boy, marching right towards him. How dare he!

As she approached, she drew one hand back and-

"Oi, oi, that's enough," interjected a voice from the doorway.

Ruriko looked up, her hand stopping for a moment. There, in the doorway, was the familiar form of PE teacher Hoshino Akira. Even in her short time at Otsuki, it hadn't taken long for the black-haired girl to be able to recognize her.

"There was nothing wrong with that mock battle," she continued, "Except the fact that you were doing it in the training room with no supervision. What were you thinking?"

She refused to avert her gaze, lest her hesitance was mistaken for insincerity. She didn’t even allow her thoughts to drift. His gaze was challenging her, probing to see if her concern was just the obligatory, superficial interference expected of an adult. But hell, even if it was just her duty, it didn’t diminish her worries at all. It wasn’t right that a fifteen-year-old kid had to go through such torment. If she could lessen his heartache by just a little bit, she would be satisfied not just as a teacher, but also as a person who was just tired of seeing children being crushed by the pressure put on them.

They stood there for a while. She didn’t count how many minutes had passed, she had always been quite poor at time keeping. Fortunately, Ojima-kun was the first one to crack. His smile felt more genuine this time, like a little bit of his burden had been lifted just by her presence on the roof.

"Kuzunao-sensei, this year’s tournament is dredging up old demons for me. Angels too,”

She nodded when he finished speaking, choosing to ignore his rather unsettling chuckle. Everyone in the faculty had been briefed on Ojima’s violent incident, as well as the emotional and mental toll it had on the boy. She had rewatched the footage immediately after the meeting. He was an animal; there was no other way to describe it. Vicious and merciless blows were systemically rained upon his curled up opponent, initially with his powered staff, then with his fists. The television broadcast had cut at that point but the archived footage had clearly shown Yasuo’s trance-like expression during the carnage. Sakamori found it impossible to believe that the soft-spoken boy could have been responsible for such brutality, but the evidence was right there before her eyes.

Sakamori thought carefully. She couldn't say that was well equipped to assist with mental illness, but if her own experiences were something to go by…

“I know that self-restraint is what you’re worried about the most. I’ve been there too. Now, I don’t want to force you into anything you don't want to do. But simply avoiding your trauma will not lessen it by any means. Trust me on this.” She spoke in a soft, reassuring voice.

She paused for a moment, trying to devise a way to suggest it gently.

“Have you participated in any mock battles since then? It might be a good way to ease you back into the mindset. You’ll need it in these coming times.”

Briefly, Jen had a chance to try to react to having a girl on her sword (hardly a comfortable place to stand with all the machinery on it) before some other force sent the blade careening into the ground, where it ground to a halt. The blonde was equally baffled by the sudden change in direction independent of being stood on until the watching boy apologised for his interference. The English girl was in no mood to actually prevent Ruriko from hitting him (once), given the danger if her blade had actually deflected off the floor and hit one of them purely by chance.

The training rooms were reinforced so that students could actually put their abilities to use without blowing holes in the walls; why hadn't it deflected?

It was when the teacher came in and broke the fight up that the now-standing Jen realised exactly why she hadn't removed her own ankles or something: her Gear's cutting reinforcement and the speed with which it had swung had actually created a deep gouge in the floor. Hopefully she didn't get made to pay for that or something...

Fortunately, the teacher that had shown up was one that had no reason to dislike the blonde: PE was the class she had the best attendance for and where she actually performed well. It meant that she actually had a good chance of Akira listening to her justification: "Ah... I came in to train and Yuriko started waving her sword around going on about a mock battle and I was worried she'd gone crazy. That guy accepted a duel before I could go find a teacher, though."

---

"I'm pretty good, but I wouldn't call myself one of the best. I guess I'll do better if I take it more seriously this time, since it's my last chance--it's really hard to get into a competitive mindset for a tournament revolving around doing your best to put someone in an inescapably fatal situation, don't you think?" the redhead ruminated, wishing that there'd be less direct combat with other people in the things. Maybe a few set up as exhibition matches, but some sort of simulated monster-hunting as the main attraction seemed more appealing and in the spirit of showing which school would be best in the event of an outbreak. It would be better than just introducing variable terrain, since you'd already removed the honourable duelling part.

She wished that people would stop being so obsessed with whether or not they could win. Of course they could win but it was an international tournament with a huge amount of competitors, doing well enough to get in the top ten was a pretty big achievement on its own. "Yeah, we can win. I think last years' winners' powerhouses graduated, so it should make for less stiff competition."

Ushio nervously returned the smile Hiromi directed at her, and quickly returned to her usual 'stare at the ground' routine. Now that they were out of the class and away from prying eyes, Ushio's awkwardness didn't feel amplified to ludicrous levels. Now she just needed to get impossibly lucky and suffer no more teasing for the rest of the day.

"Why aren't you in uniform, Ushio-chan?"

Well, that lasted a solid three seconds.

Face exploding with colour once more, Ushio's eyes widened as she raised her head. Her bag containing the uniform hung from her shoulder, and she tried to squeak out an explanation, "I-I-I was tr-trying to ta-take my clothes off b-but then people c-could hear me! S-So I couldn't-"
Ushio clamped a hand over her mouth, heat radiating from the embarrassed maid as she realised what was said. Now would be an amazing time to hide behind Rumbling Earth Maestro, at least that completely mysterious and not-at-all-Ushio-like lady wouldn't dig a deep hole for herself...

Makoto rubbed the back of his head. What she said is true. It is hard to get competitive when you're trying to put someone in a life and death situation. Their weapons are mighty dangerous and one wrong move and you can injure someone... or worse. There were accidents before. "Yeah, I just lose the hesitation when I'm pitted against someone who has every intention to defeat me." He admitted. There aren't many students who would hesitate to take the first shot unless provoked like him. A lot would just go all out with no hesitation at all. "I suppose maybe having another form of tournament would be better than this."

"That so? That's good. A lot of people are really hoping this year." The red haired male said. A lot of the people in this academy sure is hoping for this one. Maybe it's a lucky year. Maybe not. If anything, he just wanted to win so that he wouldn't have to sit through the next few months listening to his friends' on how they should've done better, that the other side cheated and things akin to that. Really, that's mostly his reasoning.

ERI NAGASE

One foot in front of the other.

It's a good way to take life, you know. That it just so happened to be what I always tell myself when I get zoned in during a run's just icing on top of the cake. Track, it seems, is a good way to get life lessons on the cheap.

And unlike a friend of mine, whose family had raised him in the land of bankers and watches up until he was a high-schooler, while still being just about full-blooded Japanese, I might add, I don't handle money so regularly that I can zone out and miss a good deal when I see one.

I know what you're gonna say to me: "Hey, run that back for me again? What's with this convoluted backstory?"

To which I reply:

If you think that's wacky, you should see the guy's ahoge when he's flustered. I swear, it could have it's own circus act.

But enough about him. I can tell you about all that later. In the most selfish phrase I've ever honestly uttered—

Let's talk about me. Time to get the story rolling proper, as I'd meant to do before devolving into a tangent about some guy who occupies half of my text message notifications talking about random stuff.

It was a pretty... normal day to begin with, as far as days at this school went. I'd woken up, attended classes, had lunch in a cozy little nook I'd managed to sniff out, et cetera. Like I said earlier, I think I was just trying to take the day one step at a time, still trying to process what I'd gotten myself into.

And it was, much like the defeat of Nazi Germany, a two-front war I was fighting.

Front One.

Honesty time: I'm still very new to this whole thing. See, this Ritual Technology business isn't something I've been involved with for too terribly long. I've learned a few neat tricks with the abilities and Device given to me by my patron God, Kuraokami, yeah...

But I haven't settled into this school specifically designed for it in the slightest. Sure it's my first year attending and early on in said year, but that would suggest that the second front shouldn't be happening.

Front Two.

Apparently, someone high up in the food chain sensed some crazy talent or latent potential left to unlock in me, that I have no idea of. That's my only explanation for this one: I've been selected as a candidate to fight in the Annual Academy Tournament. These shindigs are Huge, with a capital H, to these schools. I can tell that as a relative newcomer to the system easily, so them picking a girl as green as I am even for consideration can mean, in my mind, just a couple of things:

One: They could have mistaken me for some hidden savant who just needs to go Gohan and "unlock their true potential" to suddenly become a monstrous fighter who could beat up peers well-established already—

or Two, which I'm really hoping it's not: This school has fallen from grace hard enough to just sort of stop caring about who it sends off to these things. I'm serious, please tell me it's the former! The latter's honestly kind of insulting!

In either case, though, there was only one logical answer to this: Train. Either I'm representing this school because I have great potential, or I need to stick it to anyone who thinks we, and by extension me, are write-offs.

Both versions would need me to get good at using this thing in combat. Learning how to not only adjust to this new world I live in, not only learn how to survive in it, but to thrive in it.

So that's how I got here, in a nutshell (kind of): Briskly jogging across campus and now, opening the doors with a wipe of the brow, into the battle simulation area.

Another Track life lesson: To get good at anything, you're gonna need to put in the work.

If I wanted to prove myself up for the challenge the faculty had set for me, I was gonna need to get a bunch of rounds in, not only to condition me, but to learn what I need to.

And if it's anything like Luke's little sister's told me, it's gonna take a whole lot of beating me up. And I'm ready for that.

What I'm not ready for, however, is looking in through the door to find a group of people already in the middle of using this unit. One who was a foreigner, probably hailing from America or Europe, cap affixed to her head. The second is a Japanese girl, shorter than me... with a cape. Huh. The third kid, to round everyone my age out, is a tall (taller than me) guy with a Katana, currently in the middle of bowing to the two.

Had he barged in like me? Was he thanking them for a good fight?

I couldn't know, but I wonder if it had something to do with the teacher here, looking like she had a lecture ready and waiting...

"Uh..."

My mouth automatically makes noise to express my confusion, and I really, really wish it hadn't. I could speak with more poise than this normally, I knew that. Maybe I'm just out of it today, but now I'm forced to follow it up with something.

I hope I get into the swing of things ASAP.

"Should I go look for another sim room?"

It'll have to work. For the record, I blame the strange atmosphere and situation for this.

Hiromi paused for a moment, one eyebrow raised. Then, she turned on her heel to face the smaller girl, tilting her head to the side as she did. Well, what kind of response was that? She couldn't exactly pass that one up. Ah, she didn't particularly partake in the petty teasing of others... except when it was Ushio. Ushio reminded her of some sort of small, easily-frightened animal in many ways. Perhaps a rabbit, except rabbits commonly weren't so fun to tease. If there was a rabbit that was fun to tease, Hiromi felt that would be rather strange, as animals typically did not understand english nor actions like that.

Regardless, she had a purpose in her next action for multiple reasons. One of them, of course, was teasing the pink-haired girl.

"Where, exactly, were you changing that left someone hearing you as such a concern?" asked the blonde girl, eyebrow still raised. Hiromi eyed the other girl for a few moments. She was rather confused at hearing such a thing, anyway, but if she could tease her maid that was simply a bonus.

MATSUOKA MINORU

It took all of my willpower, as well as Cloacina assuming direct control over my eyelids (I definitely deserve thanks for that, don't I?) which I hadn't asked for in the first place (You have to learn to appreciate other people's help, Matsuoka!), to not flinch at the sight of Adachi Ruriko's approach. The sheer level of rage and bloodlust burning in her amber eyes was horrifying, and I personally really didn't want to be on the receiving end of her anger, especially after seeing the display that was her fight. Thanks to the 'help' I got from Cloacina (Hey!), unfortunately, it looks like I'm not going to be able to avoid getting the living nightlights beaten out of me.

It's daylights, Matsuoka, but you'll be fiiiine. The educator is here!

A sigh of relief leaves my mouth before I can hold it back. My gaze moves immediately towards my saviour - it's Miss Hoshino. I'm very thankful for the PE teacher's intervention. Her presence is, to use the American expression, very much a sight for sore eyes, because thanks to her, I've avoided what could possibly have been a lifetime of pain. All because Cloacina chose to ride my back on the entire training shindig and rushed things when I was far from ready. (Struggle builds character!) Said struggle, of course, has likely doomed me to a future with a taciturn samurai girl.

And maybe the foreign girl too?

You worry too much about the future, Matsuoka.

Worries about the present are not particularly my 'thing', so to speak.

"That was ah, my god's doin'," I immediately explain after the white girl. Even if it appears I am, to use the American expression, throwing Cloacina under the wheels of a truck (It's bus, and hey!), it would be for the best if I were to provide the full details behind my accidental acceptance of the challenge before any assumptions were made. The possibility of me avoiding an incredibly lopsided duel would then exist, as well. "She can, ah, control my body anytahm she wants, yaknow?"

Ruriko briefly noticed that another girl had come in. But really, she was too busy fuming. That boy... if things had just gone slightly off someone could have seriously gotten hurt. She clenched her fist, averting her eyes from the PE teacher as she did. She just wanted to slap him. Slap him for being such an idiot. Who would ever think that's a good idea?! But... well, the tiny girl couldn't exactly go doing that in front of a teacher. So she sat and fumed. At least, until she realized what the foreign girl had just called her.

"It's Ruriko! Adachi Ruriko!" Ruriko cried, stepping forward. "I even said it earlier!"

After a moment's pause, where she felt rather awkward for her outburst, she continued.

"... I thought a mock battle would be a good training opportunity," said the black-haired girl, her hand brushing Starlight Masamune's hilt reflexively, "It wasn't anything crazy. It's foolish to say crazy. And it was going fine, until we were interrupted."

Ruriko cast a pointed gaze at the boy, for a few moments.

The PE teacher folded her arms, eyes travelling between the students.

Then, she lightly chopped Ruriko on the head. The short girl's eyes widened in surprise, and a little frustration. She hadn't done anything wrong, she'd just wanted to improve her training! She was skilled enough not to need to worry about a supervisor... And then she proceeded to do the same to Jen.

"While there wasn't anything wrong with a mock battle, Adachi-san, having it in the training room? Jeez," she began, "Didn't you think a bit? It's made to take attacks, but a battle's a different story. And White-san... I'm sure you could have had a chance to get someone to supervise it. I would have. I know the both of you know that you need someone watching to have a mock battle. Adachi-san, you should have been more patient. White-san, you should have told her to wait."

Ruriko looked away, still fuming. She was skilled enough... it didn't matter...

Akira shrugged, then looked back over her shoulder at the girl who had just shown up. "It's fine... Nagase-san, right? I think things have cooled off here already."

Then she rounded on the boy, walked over to him... and placed one hand on his head.

"Oi, oi, I know you're his pact," she said, leaning towards his ear as she did, "And a goddess. But I don't care about that. Pulling that sort of thing could have hurt one of them, you know? They know where their weapons are going, you don't."

Akira let him go, sighing. "Jeez... as for you, Matsuoka-kun, you should talk with your pact about taking control."

She glanced back over her shoulder, at the gash in the floor. "... It's a good thing the training room's made to take this sort of thing."

MATSUOKA MINORU

My eyes immediately glance towards the floor to avoid meeting Adachi Ruriko's gaze. It's pretty obvious, and also rather frightening to know, that she's very, very angry at me. Cloacina's intervention on a lark really has, to use the American expression, gotten me off on the wrong foot in regards to not irking any of my upperclassmen, and now a reputation of being overly irresponsible will linger into the far future amongst them; not the best first impression to make, especially when one of them looks like she wants to kill me. It's incredibly unnerving. Your nefarious deeds have thrown me into the boiling water, and I haven't yet started even training.

You haven't landed in hot water, Matsuoka.

I try not to let her notice the sudden burst of irritation (Nope, it has failed to escape my attentions~!) but before I can lament my failure to do so and ponder over her tendency to make things troublesome for me, the PE teacher suddenly pats me on the head, her callused hands warm against my hair and pushing my entire body down. The rough, sudden action comes as a massive shock. For what reason has Miss Hoshino decided to reach up like that? And ... why is her face so close to mine? Heat rises to my cheeks in response to the proximity of the brown-haired teacher, and it doesn't take a genius to realise that I'm probably in the middle of blushing.

Then she addresses Cloacina, and I suddenly feel, well, very little, as if someone has thrown earmuffs over me except if such an effect applied to the entirety of my body. She's taken control of my body once again, without any input from me whatsoever. That is definitely clear, if the reflection of my new blue eyes in Miss Hoshino's pretty brown ones were ... any ... indication ...

One advantage of having Cloacina in control, for a given value of 'advantage' no matter how extremely annoying it is, is that my face is, to quote that one strangely popular American novel that Chief was complaining about in regards to horrible prose several months ago, redder than the Communist Manifesto.

You're somewhat adorable like this, Matsuoka.

"Knowin' the path things will be takin' is in my field of expahtise," replies Cloacina using my voice, immediately cutting me off from making any irritated response to her comment (That's already a response in itself, Matsuoka.). "They woulda bin perfectly fiiine."

Given that she sounds like an European speaking Kyoto-ben when not using my mouth for conversation, it's truly eerie hearing her in my own personal cadence.

"Had I not decided ta intervehne, they mighta've brought even greatah harm on one another," she continues, twitching my facial muscles into a grin. "They were doin' some dangerous techniques being utilised near the end, thus I acted in order to preserve the safety of my future flock. The powers I granted Matsuoka woulda not've allowed them to suffer any wound."

And if I had not, you would have chosen to act yourself.

Was I really?

Your thoughts flow into mine quite easily, Matsuoka.

I suddenly jerk backwards. Control has been restored.

An "ah ..." escapes my mouth as I twitch my hand experimentally. "Sorry, ah, about that, sensei. Cloacina's, ah, to use the American expression, a real handful, yaknow?"