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Second Chances	By : walkerofdarkness Category: +G to L > IS: Infinite Stratos Views: 4425 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Infinite Stratos or the characters from it. I do not make any profit from this story. I do own my OCs though.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7
Often, in the real world, it's not the smart
that get ahead but the bold.
-Robert Kiyosaki
Walking along the dorm corridor, Cecilia Alcott rubbed at muscles sore from her day's tennis practice. The club's activities had gone longer than anticipated, earning the first year a smattering of respect among her classmates. It's not like I don't need the respect after losing my match to Ichika, the Briton thought darkly.
Opening the door to her room, Cecilia scanned the space to find it empty. “That’s right,” the blond pilot muttered to herself as she entered the attached bathroom, “Chelsea won’t be back until next week.” A minor sigh escaped thin lips as Cecilia recalled her maid’s departure. I have to go back and check on the condition of the manor after that hurricane, Chelsea had earnestly insisted. The older teen had a mischievous grin on her face as she zipped up her bag. Plus, I can use the chance to get you something special for your birthday next month.
A few minutes later, the British teen tied her pink bathrobe closed, and retrieved a package of leftovers from the mini-fridge before setting it in the microwave to reheat. Two punches of the keypad set the device working and let Cecilia wander off to her next task. Walking to the computer in the corner, delicate fingers jiggled the mouse to wake up her terminal. Navy eyes blinked twice as the monitor turned on to show an email alert. The microwave beeped off, prompting the Briton to leave the computer as it loaded the email inbox.
Upon returning to the computer, Cecilia was surprised to find two messages waiting for her. The first was from Chelsea. “Milady, I have been working hard at the manor house. The good news is that the damage is not as bad as it could have been. There are a few shingles down, but otherwise the roof is intact. I have engaged one of the local handymen to set about the fixes. He assures me that the job will be done in two days, barring weather complications. After that, I will collect a few other items for you and then arrange my flight back to Kyoto and the Academy. If there is anything special you want from home, please don’t hesitate to inform me. Your maid and friend, Chelsea.”
Her friend’s words leaving a happy smile on her face, Cecilia opened the second message without checking the header. The Briton felt her mood die as she read the first line; suddenly forgotten food growing cold. “Cecilia Alcott, Representative Candidate of Britain. Your last report was quite disconcerting. Your new additional objective is to collect the IS data from the male pilot, Ichika Orimura. You are instructed to use any means necessary to accomplish this goal. Furthmore, while you are at the ISA do not lose sight of your mission and what is at stake for you. Failure to perform will result in the revocation of government support. Do not make such a mistake in the future. Colonel Elizabeth Rodgers, Department of IS Research.”
Mouth suddenly dry, the British teen’s hands shook nearly uncontrollably as she closed the message. The monitor clicked off and Cecilia looked around in terror before her eyes settled on the room’s oversized mirror. Navy blue eyes, normally so calm and aristocratic, were now the size of golf balls. Her lower lip was stuck between her teeth; nominally rose colored flesh had taken the same hue as the Briton’s skin. A single bead of scarlet ran it’s way between the pale lips.
Breath coming short, Cecilia looked around the room to find escape from her problem. The British girl felt fresh sweat on her forehead as navy orbs locked onto the nightstand between the wall and the four post bed. Hope flourished in the blond teen’s chest as she almost ran to the furniture. It’s just as well that Chelsea isn’t here, Cecilia thought wryly to herself. She wouldn’t approve of this.
Near panicked hands frantically opened the single drawer. Reaching past a few knickknacks, the British teen fumbled with the object of her desire. Finally extracting her salvation, Cecilia quickly closed the drawer and sat down on the near edge of the bed. Left hand wrapped held tightly to her chest, the Briton loosened the sash of her robe and let the fabric fall to the crook her left arm. Passing the contents of her left hand to her right, Cecilia extended her fingers as she raised the free arm across her body. Even as the hand came up, a voice in her mind screamed and cried as the blond teen fought to stop the shaking of her fingers. I won’t do much. Just enough to get control. To feel better, Cecilia thought to herself, repeating the ritual mantra she used.
The muted latch of the door opening froze the Briton in place. A shadow stretching out in the entrance hall brought a new wave of alarm to Cecilia. Sliding her right hand into the robe's pocket, the blond's left hand brought the robe to a presentable state.
“Milady, are you here?” Chelsea Blackett's voice carried softly into the room. Walking past the opened bathroom, the Alcott family maid had a single suitcase trailing obediently like a puppy. Cecilia took note of her friend's disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes. Catching her employer's gaze, the maid looked down at herself. “Pardon my appearance, milady. I wanted to check in with you as soon as I got back to the Academy.”
“It's fine, Chelsea,” the blond teen acknowledged. Even if she looks more like a model than I do at times like this. I do hope I can perform as well at her age, Cecilia realized with a mental sigh. Watching her longtime servant change into her uniform, a thought creased blond brows. “But, I am confused. Your letter said you would be coming back in a couple of days. Did the work get done faster?”
Stopping mid-change, the maid's hazel eyes flickered to her friend. “Milady, I sent that message a day ago. The handyman got done with all the major problems. He was going to finish up some of the touch up work, but needed a few more supplies.” Chelsea straightened her blouse as she resumed. “Since he didn't require my presence, I got an earlier flight. And the time differential worked in my favor for a change. Didn't you check the date on the message?”
Frowning at the suggestion, Cecilia sucked her lip between her teeth. “Um...no I didn't.”
Settling the headdress into her auburn hair, Chelsea made a slight cluck of her tongue. “That's not like you.” Finished, the maid turned and gave her employer a critical appraisal. “Is everything okay, milady?”
Glancing out the window, the blond girl focused on a distant tree. “I'm just a bit sore from my tennis practice. And I've been a little distracted by things.”
Cocking one eyebrow inquisitively, Chelsea moved towards one of the dresser drawers. “Would you like to talk about it while I give you a massage?”
Discarding her robe, Cecilia stretched out flat on her bed. The maid pulled a couple of jars from one drawer before moving towards her employer. Placing the jars onto the nightstand, Chelsea took a brief examination of the younger woman. “So what's been on your mind, milady?”
Wincing at the chill of the oil on her bare skin, Cecilia debated her response. “I'm just concerned about my reputation among my classmates.”
Shifting position lower, Chelsea skimmed her hands light enough to tickle. One finger pushed in hard, earning a sudden gasp of pain at the contact. Moving her hands to her employer's shoulders, the maid started rubbing small circles in the tight muscles. “What's there to be concerned about, milady?”
The blond teen tilted her head to gaze at her maid from the corner of her eye. “I lost my match to Ichika Orimura and cost myself the class representative position. I'm sure that has burned a lot of respect for me.”
Chelsea's hands stopped mid-motion, pressing down firmly on taut muscle. “Why would you have lost respect for losing to Ichika Orimura?”
Dropping her head onto pillowed arms, the British pilot fought to bring up the words. “For a trained Candidate Representative like myself to lose to a novice like him means that either my skills or my training are overrated.”
“You did say his name was Ichika Orimura, correct milady? That would make him the brother of Chifuyu Orimura, winner of the first Mondo Grosso and finalist in the second. If he has half the skill his sister does, then your winning wasn't a certainty. Training goes a long way, milady, but natural talent can go a lot farther.”
The maid's words caused Cecilia's head to snap up even as navy eyes lost their focus. “You don't suppose he might have gotten warning about my IS from her do you?”
Chelsea slapped one hand down at the small of the blond's back. “Of course not,” she protested. “From what I've heard, Chifuyu Orimura is an honorable sort of woman. The fact that you're even thinking that suggests you're missing my point.”
Turning away for a moment, the maid opened a second jar, releasing the scent of wild strawberries into the room. “All I'm saying is that Ichika might be an idiot savant with his IS. Think of him as a street fighter versus your being a trained soldier. You know about tactics and strategies from your training. He just has instincts to run on, but they can be remarkably accurate at times.”
Lowering her head back to her arms, Cecilia considered her friend's words. “Was there something else on your mind, milady?” Chelsea asked as her hands applied the sports balm evenly.
“Huh...?” The blond teen asked distantly. The maid repeated her question as she kneaded her employer's shoulders. “Oh, that.” Cecilia answered in a soft tone. “I have an email from Colonel Rodgers waiting there for me. Apparently they are not that pleased with my actions to date.”
Chelsea's hands stopped mid-motion, giving the tense muscles underneath a minor squeeze. “That woman? She's not the worst sort of person, but her people skills are sometimes lacking.”
“This time, I must agree,” the blond teen confirmed. “But she wants me to get the info and I quote, 'by any means necessary'. I gather they want me to focus on Ichika Orimura first.”
“Well, being the only male pilot in the world does leave credence to the idea.” The maid's hands pressed in harder as he voice turned thoughtful. “Do you have any ideas as to how to get the info they want on him?”
Resting her forehead on pillowed arms, Cecilia just sighed. “Not a clue I'm afraid. I just can't go over and say 'Ichika dear, I know we're only classmates but do you think you can give me the pilot data from your IS?'. It would at least put him on the defensive.”
Chelsea gave a noncommittal grunt as she focused on the massage. “On the other hand,” the blond continued, “I'm afraid I don't know how Colonel Rodgers expects me to accomplish this task. They just said, 'go and do it' and were maddeningly vague on the 'how' part.”
“Well, perhaps you could ask for clarification,” the maid suggested.
Cecilia thought about the idea for a long moment before shaking her head. “No. The email I received suggested that my value is based only on my competence. So I can't afford to give any evidence that might bring further doubt.”
The comment earned a second grunt from Chelsea as she finished working. Walking away from her friend, the maid got a towel from the bathroom and wiped her hands dry. “So the problem then is you have to make a connection to Ichika right?”
Catching the mischievous tone in her companion, Cecilia looked back at the older teen. “What do you have in mind, Chelsea?”
“Well milady, as I was coming down the hallway, I happened to pass Ichika. He is rather unique around here, after all.”
“Yes yes,” the blond prompted, waving a hand at the maid. “What about him?”
Chelsea just smirked at the younger girl's impatience. “I saw him carrying a big case as he was headed towards the lounge. It appeared to be a musical instrument of some sort. Perhaps you could talk to him about that?”
The simple words brought clarity to the British pilot's mind. Rolling off her bed, Cecilia practically ran as she opened her armoire and pulled out a small oval case. Opening it briefly, the blond inspected its contents before snapping it shut and tucking it under her arm. “Alright then, I'm off,” she said as hope provided a fresh shot of energy to wipe out the day's exertions.
“Milady!” Chelsea snapped, her voice a near shout in the enclosed room.
“What is it now Chelsea?” Cecilia asked with an annoyed tone.
The maid flashed an impish grin at her friend. “Well, unless you intend to be very forward with Ichika, might I suggest that you take a moment to prepare yourself?”
“What do you mean?” The blond asked as she looked down at herself. Suddenly aware of her nudity, the younger girl squeaked in embarrassment and blushed in accompaniment to her old friend's bemused chuckle.
<—*—>
Ichika frowned as he studied the pages in front of him, a guitar flat on his legs. “Gah,” the male pilot groaned. “Maybe I'm just not cut out for this.”
The sound of an opening door caught the younger Orimura's attention. Looking away from his dilemma briefly caught Cecilia breezing through the entrance to the rec room. “Oh, Ichika dear!” Cecilia exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here.”
“Uh, yeah.” Ichika agreed as he examined the Briton. She had on a pale blue top with a knee-length skirt while a small case rested under her arm. “That's a different sort of look for you, Cecilia.”
“These old things?” The blond girl asked as she gestured at her outfit. “Just something I had lying around. Since I'm done with classes for the day, I decided to relax a little. What do you have there?”
Looking back at the pages in front of him, Ichika frowned again. “Some music I'm trying to learn,” he admitted sheepishly. “It's not going that well.”
Glancing down at the sheet music, Cecilia gave it a critical assessment. “Hmm...a rock song in C-major. Which part are you trying to play, rhythm or melody?”
“Huh?” Ichika asked, brown eyes widening in surprise.
Navy eyes flashed with emotion. “Are you playing the top set of notes or the bottom ones?”
Chagrined, the male pilot's face sunk. “Both?”
Sighing, the Briton fought to keep her face calm as she pulled a chair close and sat down. “Rock songs like this have two parts, a rhythm and a harmony or melody. This sheet music has both parts. You just play one or the other, but not both at the same time.”
“Ah,” the Japanese student said as his head dropped down in embarrassment. “No wonder it didn't sound right.”
Pulling the case to her lap, Cecilia opened it to reveal a violin and bow. The instrument had an old look to the younger Orimura's eyes, but darkened wood shone from loving treatment. “If you want, Ichika dear, we can play a duet.”
Brown eyes blinked at the suggestion. “I—ah, didn't know you played anything Cecilia,” Ichika admitted.
“A proper British woman is cultured and respectful of the arts,” the blond stated, her words mechanical. “To my mother, that meant learning to play both violin and piano.” Eyeing the sheet music a second time, Cecilia made a minute adjustment to one string. “So what brought you out to play here?” The Briton inquired as she tested the new pitch.
Flexing his fingers a moment, Ichika looked up to suddenly register the proximity of his companion. “Well, Houki kicked me out of the room. 'I can't study here while you're playing with that'.”
Smiling at the high-pitched impersonation, Cecilia set her violin into place. “Well then, shall we?”
Gripping the guitar tightly, the male pilot strummed out the first notes. The notes sounded flat to the Briton, but she said nothing. Ichika continued playing; his dark eyes fixed on the music as his hands danced on strings. Bobbing her head in time to the music, the blond girl set her bow into place and accompanied the guitar.
Ichika briefly glanced at the Briton as she began playing before returning to the papers. Two sets of hands moved in time to the music. Humming the lyrics lightly as she played, Cecilia winced at every wrong note the male hit. The blond elected to give an encouraging smile as Ichika frowned upon recognizing his mistakes.
Changing tempo, Cecilia pushed her skill to the limit to play the music appropriately. My violin was not meant to play a rock solo, the Briton thought ruefully. Regardless of the change in instruments, the fast-paced notes still swept over both teens, encompassing them completely.
Coming to the end of her part in the music, Cecilia pulled the violin from her chin and watched Ichika. The Japanese student's face was scrunched up in concentration as he tried to both read and play at the same time. Strumming the last notes slowly, Ichika let the music hang between the two, dark eyes brilliant with success. “That was wonderful, Ichika dear.” The Briton complimented. “You hit a few bad notes, but you did not let it stop you.”
A genuine smile flashed across the male pilot's face. “Thanks Cecilia. I'm haven't quite gotten the hang of reading music like that yet.”
“It can be difficult at the start,” Cecilia agreed as she toyed with one lock of hair. “If you want, I can help you learn how to do it better. I might know a few tricks from my own musical training.”
Ichika fidgeted with the guitar pick while he considered. “Sure, that sounds good.”
Biting down a cheer of joy, the blond teen smiled momentarily. Any means necessary, Cecilia recalled. Closing her eyes, the Briton leaned forward into the male pilot's space. Emboldened by the presence of Ichika's arm against her chest, Cecilia brought her lips into an embrace with her companion's. A minor tingle passed through the blond girl's mind as she sat broke the contact to sit back in her chair. Success!
Preparing herself for the sight of adoration, Cecilia opened her eyes. Instead of adulation, the Briton found Ichika's dark eyes unfocused and confused. The Japanese pilot's face was emotionless, and his guitar had almost fallen from his lap. Crestfallen, the blond girl snatched up her case and left the room before the sudden tears were noticeable.
<—*—>
Walking into the classroom, Houki Shinonono fought to stifle the yawn she felt coming. Between the Academy's demanding schedule, including the very rigorous tests and her roommate's idiosyncrasies, sleep had become a luxury in short supply. Though he hadn't been exactly talkative about the matter, something had happened with Ichika that had denied the kendoka a chance to relax.
Half the class was already present that morning, but both teachers were strangely absent. Funny, Yamada-sensei tends to be late, but not having Orimura-sensei here is odd, Houki idly thought to herself. One student waved a greeting which the kendoka returned. “Where are the instructors?”
Honne shrugged once, her overlong sleeves flapping with the gesture. “Not sure. They weren't around when I got here. Must be something important.”
“Must be,” Houki agreed as she dropped her books at the appropriate desk. Tracking around the room again, sapphire eyes came to rest on Cecilia. The normally sociable Briton's complexion was off, and her hair seemed unkempt at the ends. I wonder what's bothering Cecilia, the raven-haired teen mused before realizing she had missed something. “I'm sorry, were you talking to me?”
“I was wondering if you knew were Ik-kun was,” Honne asked with a smirk.
“Ah,” the kendoka stammered. “He's running behind today. Well, he's always a bit slow in the mornings, but today was worse. So Ichika was going to go grab a quick breakfast on his way to the classroom.” Tossing her head towards the solitary blond girl apparently lost in thought. “What's going on with Cecilia?” Houki muttered in Japanese.
“Not sure,” Honne replied in the same language. “She didn't want to talk to anyone, so we've mostly left her alone today.” Amber eyes opened from their normal slits to gaze at the Briton. “Who knows, maybe it's just that time for her.”
Houki winced as she deciphered the cryptic statement. The sleepy-looking girl's face brightened as she perceived something behind the kendoka. Following the other teen's line of sight, the kendoka saw her roommate enter the room. Several other girls squealed in adoration as their Class Representative walked towards his assigned desk.
Leaning on the edge of her desk, the raven-haired teen sighed wistfully as the male student was bathed in attention. For his part, Ichika halfheartedly waved as each new voice called out his name. The younger Orimura was immediately surrounded by a swarm of admirers as he sat down at his desk. Houki sighed again as the various girls broke the room's decorum to speak over each other with her roommate.
Standing up, the raven-haired teen shouldered her way through the group to stand next to the besieged Orimura. Grabbing up Ichika's textbook, the kendoka slammed the heavy manual down with surprising force. Having earned the attention of everyone in the classroom, Houki gave the throng a passable imitation of their teacher's glare. “One at a time,” she intoned sternly before pointing at a random girl. “You go first.”
Momentarily cowed, the chosen student began asking some inane question about Ichika's life. The male pilot responded blankly to the inquiry, his voice empty of inflection. His inquisitor giggled at the response, but Houki's eyebrows furrowed at the statement. There's something really off with Ichika, she considered. He's normally a little less....bland.
As the remaining girls asked questions with a wary eye towards the kendoka, Houki just crossed her arms and focused on her own problem. I guess I should have asked Orimura-sensei if had to babysit her brother or not. Maybe I'll bring it up with her later. Ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the thought of her instructor, Houki scanned her roommate a second time. Of course, I might be the problem here. I was a bit harsh on him a couple days ago. And he's...well I wouldn't call him stupid, but naive. Inexperienced. Since I haven't properly apologized, Ichika might be confused as to how to deal with me.
A sudden burst of laughter drew the younger Shinonono's attention back towards the group. Honne was slumped over Ichika's shoulder, practically requiring the male pilot to carry her. Several other students cheered and demanded similar treatments, each one getting louder than the last. The kendoka rumbled loudly and leaned forward, expressing her opinion of the situation. All of the playfulness stopped instantly as Houki glared once more and straightened up. This is going to be a long day, the raven-haired teen thought as she swallowed a sigh.
The new round of questions barely registered to Houki's consciousness as she reviewed her actions. I'm definitely going to ask Orimura-sensei for a paycheck at this rate. The debate was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door slamming open. Startled, everyone present silently tracked in on the newcomer.
Even as the unknown girl stalked into the room, an uneasy atmosphere crept in with her. Houki instantly assessed the stranger with her kendo training. Her limbs were skinny almost to the point of being skeletal. The academy uniform was modified; the shoulders had been cut away and the sleeves hung lower on her biceps. But the girl's most notable feature was her stature, or lack thereof. I've got a least ten centimeters on her, maybe more, the kendoka considered. But there's something in the way she moves. It's like she think she owns the place.
Stopping just shy of the gathering, the stranger's emerald eyes flickered over each person one by one. Finally settling on Ichika, the girl cocked an eye at him. “So you're the vaunted male pilot. Ichika Orimura.” Her voice was high pitched, but still a bit snarly.
His classmates spread out defensively, but allowed enough distance to let Ichika rise up from his seat. “Yes, I'm Ichika Orimura,” he agreed, standing up and extending his hand. “And you are?”
Emerald eyes flickered once to the gesture and back towards the male pilot's face. “Someone who's heard a lot about you,” the stranger admitted, but made no effort to shake hands.
Realizing his situation, the younger Orimura let his arm drop self-consciously. A moment of silence passed in the classroom before Ichika found his voice. “Is there something I can do for you?”
While the petite girl stared openly at Ichika, Houki took the opportunity to slide around the group into a better position. The kendoka noted a small purple and black bracelet on the stranger's wrist. Suspicions began forming in Houki's mind as she felt her shoulders tighten. “He asked you a question,” the raven-haired teen muttered darkly as she crossed her arms.
A shift of the head brought the petite girl's eyes onto the kendoka. Houki felt the weight of the emerald gaze roaming her body; the intensity of the stranger was almost a physical presence over her skin. Unconsciously pulling her arms tighter, Houki took a steadying breath and met her inquisitor's eyes. Emerald eyes focused on the brief gesture, tracking the impressive cleavage as it moved. “I was given info on the personal users I might come across. You weren't in it. So that must mean you're useless.”
“She's not useless....” Honne started only to be cut off by a gesture from the skinny teen.
“Do I look like I care? I'm here to talk with Ichika Orimura.”
Taking a step towards her tormentor, Houki breathed a silent prayer of thanks at her identity remaining a secret. It was bad enough having that conversation with the class. I did not need to go through that with this...bitch. “You can't just walk in here and demand a conversation with Ichika, whoever you are. So I suggest you leave and come back in here, acting like a real person instead.” Dark eyebrows furrowed in a silent gesture. “Or just leave.”
“And what is it to you?” The petite teen growled. “Why should you care who I talk to?”
Sapphire eyes made a quick note as Honne disappeared through the open doorway. “I'm his classmate,” Houki stated. “And I hate seeing anyone being bullied.”
“Well, that's interesting. I would have guessed you were his servant,” the stranger growled as her eyes re-tracked the much taller girl's form. “Or you're his whore.”
Houki's obscured hands tightened in an instant; the sound of knuckles popping lost in the gasp from her classmates. A familiar rage settled into place as the kendoka began assessing her interrogator. I've got height, weight and reach on her, Houki judged. I'm almost certainly better in the physical strength department and maybe better in terms of conditioning. But as Ichika demonstrated, my hand to hand skills are not that good. Since this mouthy little bitch is at the ISA, she has something going for her. “Keep looking short round,” the Japanese student taunted. “Maybe one day you'll have a body to get attention with rather than that loud mouth you're using now.”
“HOW DARE YOU!” the stranger roared as she surged foward to attack. Reacting on instinct, the raven-haired teen raised her hands to defend herself. With surprising quickness, the petite girl closed to striking distance and swung a fist. Senses fully alert, Houki stepped back to avoid the telegraphed assault. The near passage of the blow brought a fresh concern to the kendoka even as the rest of the class erupted in chaos.
“Stay out of this,” Houki shouted to her classmates without moving her eyes. “If she wants a piece of me, then that's what she'll get.”
A feral grin split the unknown girl's lips. “A piece? I don't want a piece of you,” she taunted. “I just want to see you learn your place at my feet.”
Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Houki felt her body sing with a welcome tension. Putting a desk between her aggressor, the kendoka just flashed a condescending smile. “I've fought with some of the best in the world. Bring it on shorty.”
The stranger's response was to scream wordlessly as she charged around the impromptu barrier. Houki slipped around another desk, moving her way towards the front of the classroom. A momentary feeling of duality crossed through the rave-haired teen's mind. This is just like when I tried to kill Orimura-sensei, Houki realized. So I guess I'll have to do the same as she did.
Enraged, the skinny stranger lunged over the desk, her grip perilously close to it's target. The furniture didn't budge at the sudden weight on it. Evading her attacker, the kendoka kept her eyes focused for the next possible indicator. One hand skimmed the surface and came across an object. Houki reflexively scooped up the textbook as she dodged around another desk. A new snarl creased the stranger's face. “Quit dodging and fight me you coward!”
Houki felt a chill run down her spine as the words struck home. Forgoing the next turn, the raven-haired teen shifted her trajectory and sidled up next to her teacher's desk. Sapphire eyes flashed a challenge towards her aggressor as limbs came up into the kendoka's practiced stance. Emboldened, the unknown girl charged with a lunge; an extended right hand curled into predator's claws.
Only to slam against something unyielding. Fingers buckled against the surface, the momentum of the attack pushing the obstruction backwards slightly as the skinny teen hissed in pain. Houki grinned triumphantly as the textbook bucked in her grip. Bringing the heavy book under control, the kendoka swung the text in a slash at her attacker's head to bring an end to the fight.
But the stranger was already moving. Her left hand was board-straight and sweeping up to intercept the knockout blow. Catching the kendoka's wrist with the outside edge of her hand caused the book to fly from suddenly numbed fingers. Pressing her advantage, the stranger spun into a roundhouse kick targeting the kendoka's head.
Houki froze at the savagery of her opponent's attack; the raven-haired teen's mind blanking for a fraction of a second. Unencumbered by thought, the kendoka's body reacted of it's own accord. Her left shoulder came up in a block driven by instinct and desperation. Sapphire eyes registered the look of success on the stranger's face as her mind screamed in rage. Not enough!
The foot impacted hard on the rising arm before sliding off and continuing its motion. Her balance upset from the blow, Houki staggered into her teacher's desk and nearly collapsed on top of it. The petite girl's foot passed over raven hair by a narrow margin, making the green and white ribbon dance in its passage.
Undaunted, Houki's attacker continued her motion and launched a second roundhouse, this one much lower. The kendoka pushed off the desk and reached out with her right hand. Realizing her error, the shorter girl struggled to stop her attack. The action compounded the earlier mistake, allowing Houki to catch the near-motionless limb.
A triumphant grin on her face, the kendoka squeezed down hard on the captured limb. Pain flashed briefly on the stranger's face before race replaced it. One hand lashed out at Houki's face only to be easily dodged by a quick lean. Time to end this, the kendoka thought.
Balling her free hand into a fist, Houki threw all her weight into a punch at her assailant's forehead. The shorter teen raised her arms in a desperate attempt to block. Thin limbs offered meager resistance to the superior weight and strength the kendoka possessed. The punch drove through the protection to slam down against the shorter girl's head with a resounding thunk.
Emboldened by her successful assault, the raven-haired teen changed tactics. Shifting her grip on the captured leg, Houki pushed her tormentor away with a mangled shout. Twin pigtails danced in the air briefly as the strange girl fell to the ground hard; the only sound she made was the thud of her body hitting the floor.
Raising her arms to a defensive posture, the kendoka weighed her options. I don't like it, but I have to do it, Houki concluded. Taking one tentative step forward, sapphire eyes checked the prone form for any sign of threat. A tiny squeak from one shoe on the tile drew the kendoka's gaze away from her aggressor for a brief instant. As her attention refocused, Houki knew immediately her mistake.
The stranger had risen from her position with that unnerving speed; her right hand lashing out at Houki's head fast enough to leave only motion-blur in it's wake. STUPID, the raven-haired teen admonished even as she braced herself mentally for the impact.
“Stop.”
The one word hung in the air; it's simple delivery carrying a tone of absolute authority. The stranger's hand locked into place almost touching Houki's face. Sapphire eyes widened at the now-frozen limb: the thin fingers had been replaced with an ominous purple metal gauntlet almost the size of the kendoka's entire head. A solid chunk of ice formed in Houki's chest as she judged how close the pointed fingers were to touching her skin. Around the room, a number of classmates gasped at the sight of the partially deployed IS. “Personal user,” Houki whispered to herself, the words a curse in their own right.
Chifuyu Orimura strode into the classroom with a model's grace and regal bearing. Dark eyes encompassed the situation at a glance as two more forms walked in behind the former Brunhilde. Houki saw an unfamiliar teacher follow behind her instructor as Honne brought up the rear of the group. Sleeve-covered hands came up to cover the sleepy-looking girl's amber eyes grew in the realization of what had happened. “What is going on here,” Chifuyu asked, her voice almost devoid of emotion.
Snapping to attention in front of her teacher, Houki suddenly found herself shoulder to shoulder with her former attacker. “Ma'am! We were just having a brief discussion about combat techniques and their effectiveness as an IS pilot.”
Cocking one eyebrow inquisitively, the former Brunhilde's lips twitched upwards. “Oh, a discussion? It looks more like you two were fighting in the classroom.” The kendoka withered under her teacher's dark gaze before it shifted to the unfamiliar girl. “And who are you?”
“Ma'am, I'm Lingyin Huang, Representative Candidate from China.” The stranger snapped, her voice strained. Houki thought she heard a hint of awe in the shorter girl's voice at being in the presence of the famous pilot. “I was assigned to class two.”
“You were assigned to class two?” Chifuyu echoed, the first hint of disbelief in her voice. “Then what are you doing in my classroom?”
Lingyin frowned at the question as she hesitated for a moment. “I got lost and found my way here.”
One dark eyebrow arched slightly at the statement. The former Brunhilde traded a look with her fellow teacher. “She got lost, Ms. Tetsuhara.”
“Remarkable,” agreed the second instructor in an aristocratic tone. “Given my classroom is right next door, it is rather hard to find from here.”
The Chinese girl's shoulders visibly tensed as the two teachers mocked her. Houki felt a twinge of worry at what the petite girl might do. Although, if she wants to fight Orimura-sensei, I wish her LUCK. And I don't know anything about Tetsuhara-sensei, but I doubt the Academy hires weaklings. Shifting as far away from Lingyin as possible without actually moving, the kendoka tried to distance herself before the real trouble began.
“What shall we do about this lost student, Mrs. Tetsuhara?” Chifuyu asked archly as she turned to face her coworker.
The second teacher cupped her chin in a thoughtful gesture as her eyebrows furrowed. “Well, I don't know what you intend to do, Ms. Orimura, but I'll find something suitable for her. Guaranteed.”
“Sounds good to me,” Chifuyu agreed with a nod. “I'll let you know what I come up with. Maybe we can force them to work together for a change.”
Both teens blanched as the teachers discussed punishments. Mrs. Tetsuhara gestured at Lingyin, who fell into step behind her instructor. The Chinese girl gave Houki a hard nudge with her shoulder as she left, earning a wince of pain. Gritting her teeth at the discomfort, the kendoka watched as Lingyin departed from the classroom before locking her gaze on her own teacher.
Chifuyu's dark eyes narrowed the brief expression of her student as the classroom door closed. Looking around the room, the former Brunhilde came to rest on the male pilot. “Class Representative Orimura.”
Ichika rose to his feet instantly. “Ma'am!”
“Why did you allow this fight to happen? In the absence of a teacher, you are supposed to be in charge.”
The male pilot's face scrunched up in concentration as he looked for a hole in his sister's logic. “I am? That's news to me, Ch—Ms.Orimura.”
The teacher's dark eyes flared at the near mistake. “Yes, you are,” she admonished firmly. “So while I'm thinking of YOUR punishment, I want you to take student Shinonono to the infirmary.”
“I hardly need an escort,” Houki protested.
Chifuyu waved away the objection. “You're injured, and I want to make certain you get down to the infirmary.” The teacher turned her gaze to her brother. “Once you get her to Dr. Saunders, return here immediately. Now get moving the both of you.”
The throng of girls surrounding Ichika parted with a hint of reluctance. Walking carefully between his classmates, the male pilot sidled up next to his roommate. Placing one hand on Houki's uninjured shoulder, the younger Orimura gestured to the door. “Shall we?”
Swallowing the sigh she felt, Houki walked out of the classroom with her roommate shadowing every step.
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Second Chances