Gym has never been my favorite subject in school, and it sure wasn't at Karakura High, either. It wasn't that I was fat, or lazy, or had some serious medical condition. I just wasn't good at it. I was clumsy, slow, and just altogether uncoordinated. The only thing I didn't completely tank at was gymnastics, but karma found a way to mess that up, too.

Your body has a cruel way of betraying you at critical times. Maybe the goddess of women out there takes enjoyment in screwing with your social and love lives. For example, every week in my first-period gym class, some girl was always on her cycle.

This week, that girl was me.

Suckish, right? Well, it gets so much worse, people. I didn't even know I had my period, so I went out to the uneven bars not getting the fact that my social life (or, what I had of one) was about to go down the proverbial drain. There were also two things that made this even worse, too. One, I was wearing white shorts. As all girls reading this can attest, you do not wear white on your bottom half until you are 100% sure your period is over. And two, my crush was in the boys' class of the same period, so the two classes shared the gym. It was almost as if fate set it up to happen, and swung an invisible yet powerful wrecking ball at my life.

My crush was an interesting guy named Yasutora Sado, better known simply as Chad. He was a freakishly tall guy - looked like he belonged on the basketball team, and then some. He was quite obviously athletic (yes, I admit to sneaking peeks at his biceps during class, especially on "fitness" days when they rippled), which made me confident that he'd never notice me, what with my total trip-over-a-blade-of-grass finesse. So, I was safe and content with admiring him and trying - often failing - at getting enough courage to talk to him. However, aside from his height and impressive musculature (yep, cool word, I know), nobody knew much about him - except, supposedly, Ichigo Kurosaki (whom I referred to only slightly jokingly as Flame Head), Rukia Kuchiki (the old new girl), Uryu Ishida (they built it, and nerds came, ha-ha), Orihime Inoue (who I just called "that redhead with the big boobs" whenever I needed to talk about her), and Keigo Asano (along with his other friend whose name I never could remember). Yep, Chad Yasutora was a big old mystery, and he just begged for me to solve him.

I always loved a good detective... story.

Anyway, let's get back to the current unfolding plot, shall we? We did our warm-ups and everything, with me practically drooling over Chad as he did his "Karakura Coyotes" jumping jacks. Me, on the other hand… I was limp, dude. By the time we got to the U in Karakura, I was beat. But that was also because we'd done toe-touches, quads, the "butterfly" stretch, sit-ups, and push-ups, too. I could not touch my toes. I grasped each ankle for a total of three seconds before my hands slipped and I virtually collapsed on the floor. My heels weren't even relatively close to my crotch when I did the butterfly. I only came up about a quarter of the way with each sit-up, and I did the girl type of push-ups. As in, I got down on my knees, and did ten good shoves, nearly introducing my face to floor each time, thanks to my klutziness.

The guys' teacher, who we all referred to as Coach Cuckoo, told them they got to watch us girls on the parallel bars today. At which, several guys whistled or catcalled, and Chad just stood there looking at the floor of the gym. Probably wondering if it ever got cleaned… did it, anyway? It was all marked up and everything...

It was somebody else's turn first. I sat down on the bottom bleachers, leaning backward and stretching to crack my back. It wasn't until I heard a deep-voiced "Hey" that I realized Chad had sat next to me.

I glanced over, avoiding looking directly into his eyes. If I did, I would not be able to form a coherent sentence. "Oh, um… hiya." I prayed I wasn't blushing too hard.

"Suzume, right?" Oh, God, his voice was so sexy. The only time I'd ever heard him talk before was in French, when we went over assignments, and he was always so quiet then - I could barely hear him, no thanks to the fact that we were on opposite sides of the room.

"Um… that's my last name."

"Oh. So, then… what's your first?"

"Izumi. My name's Izumi Suzume. It's a real tongue-twister, I know, right?"

"I like it. I'm Yasutora Sado, but everyone calls me Chad."

"Yeah, I know. Chad. That's, like, my favorite guy name ever."

"Cool. So, Izumi… if I comment on something, would you take it as an insult?"

"Well, I probably won't, unless you're nasty about it. I live by a code - mean what you say, say what you mean, and don't say it mean."

"I was just going to tell you… it's not that your hair looks bad loose - it actually looks nice - but since you're going to be doing gymnastics, you'll probably want to tie your hair up, if you have a scrunchie. You know, so you don't mess it up."

"Oh! I didn't even notice. Thanks, Chad." I put my whitish hair (damn pin-straight, bleached-blonde genes) up in a high ponytail with my pretty red rubber band. I stood up. "I think it's my turn next."

Chad grasped my wrist. "Hey, Izumi?"

I looked back. "Y-Yeah, Chad?"

"Good luck. Coach said this counts for a fifth of the girls' final grade… that's 20%. It could bring you from an A to a B just like that, if you fail."

"Yup. I'm pretty good at this - though I fail at all other gym and I'll probably bomb the mile run, the shuttle run, sit and reach, hang, and sit-ups. I'm hoping for at least a C in this thing - it's the only one I don't epically suck at!"

"Well… good luck, Izumi."

"Thanks! By the way, I think you're the only one who doesn't call him Coach Cuckoo. Even I do, dude."

He chuckled, and gently pulled me off the bleachers. "You're up. Good luck."

"Okay, thanks! See you soon." I hurried up to our teacher, an American woman who had told us to call her Coach Michelle. Unfortunately, some of our class couldn't pronounce that, so most of us just called her Coach Mitchie or just Coach. "What am I doing, Coach Mitchie?"

"Whatever you can do on the parallel bars. I want to see if you're able to do the stuff we've been doing in class. Anytime you're ready, just start, Izumi."


I climbed up on the bars and began doing some simple moves. Skin the cat, inverted hang, saddle side with pose. I flipped backward and held myself, the back of me facing everyone else. I was so focused and concentrating that I didn't even notice the slight wetness on my rear end. Everyone else, however, noticed the color.

One of the boys laughed, and called out, "Hey, look, guys, she's got her period!" All the other boys, and most of the girls, started laughing, too.

Losing my concentration, I fell, landing on my chest. I glanced up. It didn't look like Chad was laughing, but he could be laughing on the inside. I felt tears stinging my eyes, and ran into the girls' locker room crying.

I had zero chance with Chad after that little display.

... My first attempt at Bleach and Chad. PLEASE DON'T SHOOOOOOT. *is shot anyway*

Leave nice reviews please? Like Izumi said: mean what you say, say what you mean, AND DON'T SAY IT MEAN. ^^

Thanks for reading and possibly reviewing! XD