Title: Las Noches High – chapter one
Rating: PG-13 (R later?)
Genre: AU; high school
Disclaimer: I own the mangas that I purchased, but Kubo owns the characters.
Summary/Notes:Forced to transfer from school to school because of something he has no control over, Kurosaki Ichigo resigns himself to expulsion, only to find out he has one last choice: attend Las Noches High.
A/N: (new) I fixed some typos and other grammar issues that jumped out at me. I also added a few extra scenes; a slightly extended "tour", and a bit of dark!Aizen.
Kurosaki Isshin remained surprisingly emotionless as he listened to Karakura High's 'acting principal' tell him that his son was on the verge of being expelled. He knew that if he unscrewed the lid on his emotions, he would probably embarrass the muscle-headed idiot and show him what true strength really was.
The reason for his current visit to the school was because someone had witnessed his son fighting the other night while still in his school uniform. Isshin knew for a fact that his son had been defending himself. The reason this time was not because of his natural orange hair, but that, however, was the easiest way to distinguish him and report back to the school.
"Kurosaki-san! Are you listening?"
Isshin grinned. "Yes?"
"Are you aware that your son is not at school?"
"Yes. He's at home."
"Are you certain?" Kagine stressed, eyes narrowing at the other man.
Isshin's grin widened. "Positive. I beat him into submission myself." Even the elderly principal looked somewhat surprised at the statement. It was, however, the truth. Isshin had taken it upon himself to train the boy at every possible chance.
The principal sighed deeply, clasping his hands behind his back. "Kagine-san speaks of expulsion, but there is one last solution we can try." The homeroom teacher glared at the elderly man standing beside him; Isshin's interest was piqued. "Las Noches Institute."
Kagine let out a sharp bark of laughter, his head thrown back. "Perfect! That punk will fit right in with the other delinquents and mis—" He never finished his statement. Kagine gasped for air; Isshin's thumb painfully obstructed his windpipe, preventing him from doing so.
His brown eyes shone dangerously, belying the wide smile on Isshin's face. "My son is not a delinquent and not a misfit. He came from Shinou—he's smarter than you!"
The old man waved a hand. "Sit, sit, Kurosaki-san. Kagine-san, go back to your class." Isshin finally released the terrified man and Kagine stumbled from the office, the door slamming behind him. With a laugh, the doctor resumed sitting, inching his chair forward so he could learn about this last resort.
‡ ‡ ‡
Kurosaki Ichigo was sprawled along the couch when his father returned, but not for long. He flipped backwards, over the couch arm, snatching up the thick cushion to slow the man's kick. "You're in good health," Isshin stated with a grin.
"Yuzu patched me up." The boy fell into the one-seater behind him with a weary smile now on his face. There was a small plaster at the left corner of his lips and another beneath his left eye. The new discoloration of bruises blended with older ones that had not quite faded away. "So… am I expelled?"
"No! Pack your suitcases—you're leaving next week."
Ichigo sat ram-rod straight, his brown eyes wide and filled with disbelief. "You're shipping me off to some foreign, out-of-country school? What the hell did I do to you, you idiot old man?"
"No back-talking your father!"
Still reeling from the sudden news that he would be leaving the house, Ichigo was unable to counterattack or even block his father's attack and he slumped back against the chair from the blow.
Isshin exhaled deeply, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt to feel a little more relaxed. "You'll still be in Japan, but you're going to another school. You'll be living on campus because of the great traveling distance. Your principal said just about everything is provided for you there." He smiled lopsidedly.
Ichigo's glare remained locked on him. "It'll be the same no matter where I go, dad…"
Isshin knew his son was truly hurting if he was being addressed with terms of fatherly endearment. "Don't make eye contact, that's all."
"That won't help, dumbass!" And the moment passed.
"Then become a monk!" Isshin upturned the chair with his son still in it. Ichigo rolled away, quickly springing to his feet. He shot a glare at his father before making a break for the front door, grabbing his jacket along the way. "Ah! Ichigo!"
The front door remained open as his daughters returned from school. The fair-haired Yuzu closed the door behind her sister. "Just let him be," Karin sighed. "You've ruined his life enough."
"How? Granted… He seems to be cursed with the sex appeal that was created between Masaki and myself! But still…!" Karin shook her head while Yuzu smiled sheepishly, both continuing on their way deeper into the house as Isshin crawled to the oversized poster of his deceased wife to vent his sorrows.
‡ ‡ ‡
Ishida Uryuu knew his former classmate was there, waiting for him. He adjusted his glasses, narrowed gaze sweeping the sidewalk. He smirked after spotting the hooded figure standing at the end of the school gates' brick wall. He took his time walking there, pausing briefly so the boy could fall in step beside him. "You sure you don't want my father to look at you?"
"Our dad's are both doctors, y'know. And besides…" Ichigo scoffed, raising his head. "Mayuri at Shinou wanted to peel my skin off to see what was wrong with me."
"There's also Kisuke… san. I still can't believe you got into Shinou Academy," Ishida sighed, going back to Ichigo's previous statement. He glanced across the street and caught sight of a few lewd stares directed at the bruised teen walking beside him.
"Shinou was full of prudes. I wasn't allowed to join the 'go home' club."
"I see 'em." Ichigo was capable of holding his own against a few punks, but he didn't want to drag the 'Ishida' name through the mud with him. Luckily for them, someone somewhere was on their side.
A red convertible pulled up beside them on the curb, tires squealing as it came to a stop. The dark-skinned woman behind the wheel grinned, nodding her head. "Get in," she ordered.
Ichigo's hood flew off as he hopped the side of the car to land in the backseat. "You're a lifesaver, Yoruichi-san!" he laughed.
"I know. Thank me later."
Ishida was more reserved as he climbed into the passenger's seat. The sports car pulled away with another squeal of its tires.
‡ ‡ ‡
The front lot of the building titled "Urahara Shoten" remained empty, but the red convertible was parked in back; its owner didn't like for it to be seen. Beyond the 'shop' lay the living quarters. Ishida and Ichigo were engaged in a staring match while seated in the mat's room. Yoruichi and another stood nearby, observing. "Nothing," Ishida sighed, leaning back.
"Kurosaki-san." The blond male stepped forward, lowering the uchiwa that had been keeping the lower half of his face hidden. "Think of… your type."
Ichigo's brow furrowed as he frowned, but he did as he was told, remembering the one person he thought he could trust. A shuddering breath escaped Ishida and he covered his face with his hand, the blush that crept on his pale skin still visible.
"Hmm. Ishida-san became affected…"
"Guess he doesn't have eyes for just Urahara Kisuke," Yoruichi drawled, her golden eyes gleaming as she smirked.
Urahara smiled as Ishida's blush deepened. "The only thing I can deduce is that Kurosaki-san is letting off some serious pheromones. Just like everyone else, he's not aware of it. It affects certain… individuals."
"Men," Ichigo muttered. He had nothing to hide.
"But only certain ones," Urahara chirped, his gray eyes shining from the shadows created by the striped bucket hat he wore. "Even though Ishida-san was affected, I was not. Maybe I have a stronger will?"
"Kisuke-san," Ishida huffed, rising from the cushion he sat atop. He made his way to where the shop owner stood.
"Or maybe just people his age?" Yoruichi casually tossed in.
"Maybe," Urahara chuckled as he was tugged toward the shoji by the young brunet. "Either way, it's unique."
Ichigo fell backwards onto the tatami mats, grimacing as he stirred old bruises. "I put the blame on that old man of mine."
"It could be his fault—hereditary genes and all that." Yoruichi took a seat beside the boy. "Maybe he did the same thing."
"That explains how my mom fell for such an idiot." Ichigo rolled over onto his side, tucking his hands beneath his head. "He told you to look for me, didn't he?"
"Un," the woman smiled.
How was he supposed to stay mad when he knew his father cared for him the most? "I'm going to Las Noches next week. Did he tell you that?"
Urahara froze just after being dragged out onto the hall, spinning around to catch Yoruichi's eye. "No," the woman murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"The only thing I know about them is that they're Shinou's rival."
"That's all you need to know," Yoruichi laughed, ruffling the unruly orange locks.
"Are they that bad?" Ishida inquired as he walked with Urahara to the kitchen.
"Their level of learning could be considered higher than Shinou's, but… the principal and his staff… Their ideals leave a lot to be desired. If it's Kurosaki-san, though…" Urahara caught Ishida's questioning stare and smiled. "I think he can overcome it."
It was a tearful goodbye at the gates of Las Noches High … for Kurosaki Isshin, that is. An escort had been sent to retrieve the new student, and the man stood by quietly as father blubbered his heart out to his son. The luggage had already been packed into the car; all he needed was Kurosaki Ichigo.
Embarrassed enough, Karin kicked her father in the back of the knee and proceeded to drag him back to their own car once he'd fallen. As the gates slowly rolled together, the teen felt a strain of sorts, as though he shouldered the weight of the metal. He was in a last-resort school, its high-standard reputation aside, and would probably be making little to no friends fast. With a sigh, Ichigo turned away from his family after one final wave and headed to the waiting car. He slipped in and the door was closed behind him.
"I'll be taking you to meet Aizen Sousuke-sama," his driver stated. "Since today is Sunday, there are no classes. He will give you a tour of the campus."
Ichigo closed his eyes, taking in half of what his driver was stating. His plan was to show up for classes and hope to not get mauled.
Aizen Sousuke waited for him at the top of the stairs of the main campus building. His wide smile was unnerving and Ichigo kept his distance. "Your father explained your situation to me. The faculty is also aware of it, but it is being kept confidential between the entire staff."
"It doesn't matter," Ichigo scoffed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Let's get this over with so I can get expelled."
Aizen chuckled, "I will make sure that doesn't happen, Kurosaki-kun."
Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, dragging his feet the remainder of the way until he was standing a few feet from the Principal. "Whatever."
Aizen continued to smile, extending an arm outward in the direction of the main building. "Shall we begin our tour?" The only answer he received was a disinterested shrug of the teen's shoulders and he took that as an "okay, go". He led the way, holding the door open so Ichigo could follow. The entrance was as normal as any other school in Japan, housing the shoe lockers near the doors, followed by the faculty offices, and then the infirmary. "I heard you were initially from Shinou?" Aizen questioned, hoping the boy would be a bit more talkative.
"For a bit," Ichigo murmured, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his jeans as he glanced up then down the hallway.
"But you had to wait for a new semester to begin at Karakura because of your previous Shinou attendance, didn't you?"
Ichigo's eyes narrowed at the question, but he didn't push it, simply murmuring an agreement. He tried not to think about Shinou and it's foreign school term system. He'd spent two boring weeks—his shortest term ever—at Karakura, taking the same classes again because they couldn't advance him a grade. That, coupled with the fact that he wanted to distance himself and the color of his hair, made him a well-known "delinquent", and one of the many reasons why he was harassed every day. Aizen's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he attempted to pay attention as the man walked him around and explained the school setup. He really had no desire to get too familiar because he knew he would be gone within a matter of months, just like at the other two schools.
‡ ‡ ‡
Aizen stared at the darkened glass container he stood in front of, a loving smile curling his lips. "I think this one will be successful—I can feel it. It won't be too long now."
Ichigo was impressed that his chauffeur stuck around. He left his dorm Monday morning and found the tall figure waiting for him out in the quad yard. "Will you be here every morning?" he asked, tossing his school case into the backseat after the door was opened.
"Until you dismiss me," the brunet stated.
"I'm not good at remembering names, but I'll still ask."
Ichigo nodded, slipping into the backseat to join his case. He arrived at his homeroom class before the crowds and made his way to the last row, picking the last seat in the far corner. It was the same pattern he took at Shinou and Karakura; he disliked having others seated behind him. Hearing the din from the approaching students, Ichigo folded his arms atop the desk, lowering his head onto them.
"That seat is—"
Ichigo's brow furrowed and he made an attempt to block out the whispered voices that surrounded him. The more students that filed in, however, the more the volume of the voices rose.
One brave soul dared to approach him—a petite brunet with a wide smile. "You're new, right? Transfer student?"
Ichigo glared groggily at the one that disturbed his nap. "Who are you?" He didn't care, but it was the first thing that had come to mind.
"Ah," the student laughed. "Forgive me. My name is—"
"Luppi! Get the fuck away…" Eyes the color of the bright sky outside glared down at Ichigo. The newcomer had an unruly mop of hair that was the same color.
"Oi, Grimmjow." The voice didn't belong to Luppi—the teacher had entered the room. Luppi's smile hadn't diminished, but had become wider and grown more smug after Grimmjow's appearance. "Grimmjow, pick another seat. I want to get started."
"I always sit here," Grimmjow—the blue on blue student—snarled.
"Do you want me to get Tousen?"
He gritted his teeth, rudely brushing by Luppi to head for the other side of the room. After scaring another into giving up his seat, Grimmjow faced Ichigo's direction. Freeing a hand from his white school slacks, he raised it, the middle finger extended upward. Ichigo smirked. At least there was one person he wouldn't have to worry about lusting after him.