Haku was reclining relaxed on his bed, his arms folded behind him. Incapable of sleep, his mind exhausted itself on eventualities and contingencies, spiraling in circles, chasing it's own tail with no sound resolution.
If he had been thinking aloud then his thoughts would be heard to this effect:
'There is a 24/240,000,000,000 chance that I'll meet anyone I know, but I can't rely on an estimation of a probability whose direct influences and variables elude me. Also not to use a system of figures that is long past it's realm of supposed influence. If I do chance to meet someone that I know there is a 3/8 chance that it will not affect my studies and endeavors here, leaving me a 5/8 chance that it will…' And it went on in this fashion.
So when the door to the dormitory opened and a distantly familiar form darkened the doorway, Haku's muscles tightened. 'The spikey blonde hair, Karakura Town. I don't believe it…' Haku straigtened up in the bed, unsure of what to do. 'Kasuma Zenoah. Three years my senior.' He recalled, glumly.
Zeno walked in and gave a dismissive wave towards Haku, then a pause. It occurred to Haku at this moment that he might not be remembered. But when Zeno gave a suspicious turn and look.
"Who're you!" He demanded.
Haku smoothed himself out and stood, stretching himself to his full six feet.
"Hello. I'm your new roomie. Kuishi Sato. Pleased to meet you!" He said, making his most friendly and kawaii face. The effect seemed immediate. Zeno stepped forward and offered his hand. Haku took it and noted the firm grip. But it was stepping closer that caused Zeno's face to grow even more suspicious.
"I know you!" He shouted. "Mt. Fuji! You were younger and in a different class, but I know you!"
Haku backed off and made a calming gesture.
"Yes." He hissed. "My real name is Haku Ishikawa. I was there on Mt. Fuji. Please don't tell anyone my real name!"
"Don't worry." Zeno muttered, walking over and leaping on his bed. "You're secret is safe with me."
It was that night, with various misgivings that Haku was finally able to rest his mind, the worst possible scenario already setting in motion he no longer needed to worry about it.
******************
Haku stood in queue for morning Swordsmanship training, patiently watching each participant in the lessons. There were precisely five more in front of him. He was confident that by then he would have mapped out the perfect techniques and movements that the instructor was requiring. He already had enough information by watching the first two, to make a respectable enough attempt.
The woman in front of him was a dark tan. Her face was that of an Indian Emperess, her poise was regal, her motions glided like the fluid ease of water. Haku watched her intensely. 'Be careful.' He warned himself. 'Her execution of these simple motions with that wooden sword will be like a master musician playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on a grass harp.' He thought.
The next four, Haku noted with meager interest, preferring to study this prodigy's inherent grace. He tried to imitate her actions as he advanced in line, applying the smooth, yet direct flourishes, to his casual actions.
Finally it was her turn. The instructor called out her name, not bothering to consult the list that he had been calling names from. "Mahonna Kuiki." She stepped forward with her wooden sword; bearing it with a definite tempo and grace. It was perfectly evident to Haku now. 'This is no human, nor had she ever been one. She was born and raised in this place and I wouldn't be surprised if she had trained to enter this academy her whole life.'
The instructor assumed a defensive stance and gave the signal. What followed was so spectacular that everyone gasped and backed away. The instructor had to struggle to intercept. Her moves were blinding crescendos of perfect speed. She had combined the three practice moves into what seemed, at first glance, a single action.
Her entire presence here was an imposture, there was nothing that she could learn in the next two weeks so far as swordsmanship was concerned. Haku had an unassuming grin on his face as all the students felt compelled to applaud. A tear glistened in the instructor's eyes as if he had just beheld some brilliant light that was not meant for mere eyes.
Mahonna, then turned and bowed before the students and returned to the end of the line. Her face was the picture of boredom and disinterest.
"And that is what every Soul Reaper should aspire to!" The instructor announced, neglecting to chastise Mahonna-san for her obvious showboating.
Haku was proud of himself, he kept his smugness from his features.
The instructor had to retrieve his clipboard and search out the next name.
"Kuishi Sato."
Haku stepped forward. He felt the soft-sanded wood grain about the grip of his sword. His fingers made a careful check of the grip, testing the area of it's maximum leverage, feeling the tiny microchasms in the wood rub against the prints of his fingers. The information was received, duly noted and stored for later reference.
In life, Haku had some training that may not have been standard with too many children. Not that he cared to remember it, as he had swore off memories. But the neural pathways were still there, and Kuiki-samasan had just updated it for him.
He spun the wooden sword, flipped it up, caught it and passed it between hands, the very breeze of the motion was immense, and the motion was too fast to follow. No appreciative gasps were uttered. He turned his own metaphorical composition of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" into an opera. And in three fanning spins, one thrust and draw slash combined with a retreating motion, he had finished.
The succession of knocks against the teacher's wooden weapon were so contiguous that only one knock was heard. The room was silent. The teacher had not moved his sword to block the attacks, Haku had aimed at the blade so as not to actually engage their instructor. The instructor did his greatest to downplay the entire event and chose not to say anything, but there were whispers.
Walking back to the end of the line, Haku smiled politely at the gaping expressions until he saw Mahonna. Haku made an absolute lifetime trait of reading motions, body language and expressions. If Mahonna could get away with murder at the moment she wouldn't have to even think about it. Her expression was pure mastered fury.
She approached him and gave a shallow bow, or more accurately, a nod. Haku bowed genuinely. He didn't wish for her to dislike him at the moment. It would be inconvenient, still Haku also had to serve his ego.
"Have we met?" She asked, trying her best not to speak through clenched teeth or sound angry.
Haku smiled modestly, using his brow to seem appologetic and sympathetic. "If only that were so, but I am new here and I have a good memory for such memorable faces."
She seemed not to expect genuine politeness and it took her a while before she could formulate a response.
"You obviously have had some excellent training wherever you're from. It seems I have some competition."
Inwardly, Haku sighed with relief. 'She is being honest about the obvious tension between us, that indicates some mutual respect in formation. Now is the tricky part, I've got to downplay what just happened without seeming pretentious. The big questions is: is she really better than me? If she is, I can be honest and tell her that was my best try. If she can't achieve what I just did, then there is no right answer.'
"Then I welcome the competition." He said, still smiling. "But I warn you that what you saw was my very best."
'She smiled, slightly.' Haku could read it. 'She is pleased, she must know that she could do much better. If I stay near her, I can learn her tricks.'
"I hope I can keep up." She said, wryly.
'She really is a very unpleasant person.' He thought, still a smile on his face.
*****************
Haku kneeled at a table, alone. On the table was a small portion of Mandarin salad and a cup of tea. 'I have to restrict my food intake. I can't expend energy on digestion when so many things require my mental powers instead.' He picked up the tea and breathed in, trying to keep in the tea ritual, he sighed and sipped it. 'Besides, mother always said…' He stopped and sat the cup down, disappointed that he had not mastered the repression of his memories. He pinched a leaf of lettuce covered with the peanut sauce in between his chopsticks and ate it, carefully. 'A full mongoose is a slow mongoose.'
Haku had just began to relax. He looked around, suspiciously. Kuishi Sato worked well here. On the surface, there were just few enough surfaces to be convincing as 'normal'.
His eyes suspiciously drifted over the crowd of people, constantly in fear of seeing a familiar face. He swallowed some tea and chewed some salad, but for once in his life he was not terribly hungry. The effect of a guilty stomach, possibly...
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