New story dance time... ok that's enough of that.

I've had this rattling about for a while so i thought since i've not posted anything i'd think more about this one. There is one more i've got stewing but it's not ready yet.

- haven't abandoned shifting perceptions, it's just waiting.

-banking on you is marked as complete for now as I fell out with it. Might put a sequel or just a continuation depending if it apologises.

Oh, don't own anything you recognise, even if it's misspelled.

Chapter 1

Who ever thought putting a bunch of teachers in a room the day after the holidays and expecting them to work was a good idea?

I've always thought in-service days were bullshit. Some crappy schedule made up by one of the robots on the district council who dictate what we need to talk about that actually steals hours of preparation time from us. You take any teacher you know and ask them whether they'd rather be getting their room ready or planning activities or sitting in the main hall on big tables with luke warm drinking water and an overloud PA system screeching in their ears. I know my answer.

It didn't take me seven years to figure that out however. Those seven years taught me which table to pick – the ones far away from the speakers. And who to sit next to – Renji from English was always a good call or Ikkaku from Design and tech. Those two at least would be up for a laugh during the drivel and would play hangman with me. Never sit near the weirdoes from science, that was a harsh lesson during year three's post-Christmas in-service. That Kurotsuchi looked at me like he wanted to dissect me for his first year anatomy lesson.

First topic this year? What makes good feedback? Eh tell the kid what he's doing shit and how to fix it?

Second topic – building parent relationships. Well shit. Doesn't that just sound like fun? Hey little human makers? Come and tell me regularly how I am doing my job wrong. Oh don't forget to have a go at my holidays and benefits as well.

By the way folks, what's with that? Yes I get the same holidays as the kids. Yes I teach from 8.30 to 3.30. You want that life? Then have it. No one said you couldn't. Oh sorry, you don't want to have to work twelve plus hours unpaid a week at home? Oh and you don't want to deal with other peoples' children every second of every day? You don't want to spend some of your fairly small salary on things for those kids to use at school that yes the school is supposed to pay for but they don't?

Then shut the hell up.

Anyway, building parent relationships. Basically the parents have to get more regular reports and will be involved in the school more, if they want to. And it'll be the over eager housewives of course that will want to mother everyone. Including me. Great.

Somehow that day goes quickly, even when the topics are shit. Then we face the horror of the children returning. I don't mean that though, I love my job, where else do I get to berate and undermine a bunch of teenagers for 'motivational' reasons. I'm not just a phys ed teacher, I'm a god damn inspiration.

First period, second years. Not as scared as they were last year, test the water with me to see what they can get away with. After I threw the cheekiest one into the water the rest fell into line. Swimming first day back, fantastic. I feel sorry for their next teacher who has to put up with the bitching about the hair they took ages working on that morning being ruined. I love my job.

Second period fourth years. Now I don't mind fourth years. They've got exams coming up so there is a bit of fear in them but they are also part of the 'senior school' now meaning they are also testing their limits, or at least testing the limits of my patience. I was not aware that a summer could lead to people completely forgetting how their damn bodies worked. My entire class just failed at a basic game of badminton. All of them, failing to hit a damn birdie over a damn net. Bodes well for my results at the end of the year.

Then third years, they got the joy of theory before starting their football and basket ball modules and then my last period of teaching that day was ickle firsties. Raw little minds and bodies that had the FEAR.

The FEAR was a wonderful thing. I would beat (not literally) the fear into those second and fourth years but first years come with their own special fear. The fear of those that used to be the top of the food chain, the biggest kids in school suddenly being the tiniest. And the place is bigger, and you have to move around during the day. And you've got big hulking blue haired teachers for phys ed looking down on you. Love the FEAR.

This class looked interesting. There was a snob, easy to spot; nose in the air but from the way he glanced around, it was possible he was a trainee, rather than actually believing in it. Hopefully he'd get a personality rather than mirroring his father, should be an interesting parents' night. Two of the boys looked like they fancied trying a bit of trouble, good job the ol' scowl still works. And the usual girly lot, the ones that would be a pain in the changing room, would call 'girls' problems' when swimming lessons started and probably shriek at the sight of a ball rolling towards them. Oh yeah, I love my job.

"Right First Years, going to start nice and easily, a game of tail tag. Game is very simple, no body contact allowed. You've got to snag the tags. The last team with tags standing wins!"

Standard first year game, four teams with coloured belts and three Velcro tails hanging from them. You chase, snatch and hang on to them. Once you've got no tails you sit out.

Oh and I pick the teams.

The snob was out fairly quickly, Ishida something or other. One of the trouble maker boys got pulled for grabbing arms rather than tags but the bench at the side was soon filled with children that had no tails left legitimately. One little girl with long red hair was the last one on the yellow team with two tails still flying behind her. She was a quick little thing, something that I notice easily, being the school football coach.

They got a one minute warning, giving the three remaining players a push to take risks but it was the red haired girl that triumphed, holding two full hands of tails in the air with a big smile on her face.

"Congratulations yellow team! What's your name again kid?"

"Shiori Kurosaki Sir!" One hand went to her waist and the other to her temple like a salute.

"Alright Shiori, well done. Right everyone, get changed and meet back in the classroom."

It didn't take long to get the kids to dump their belts and tails into the coloured boxes before they disappeared off into the gender split changing rooms.

"Excuse me Mr Jaege, eh"

"Mr J is fine, how can I help you Miss Kurosaki?" I was still crouched down on one knee with my arm on my other knee. I got a good look at the girl for the first time, noticing her big dark blue eyes shadowed by her long bangs. The kid was in need of a haircut but possibly she was growing her fringe out, something that pissed me off cause the girls can't clear their faces but wasn't much I can do with it.

"Mr J, I was told you were in charge of the football team. I wanna join."

I smiled pitifully at her. "I'm sorry Shiori; there isn't a girl's first year team. When you get to third year you can join. There is a hockey team and a net ball team though. I can introduce you to Miss Halibel?"

"Sir I don't want to join hockey or netball. Can I join the boys' team? Or the senior girls team? I'm really good; my aunt has been training me for years?"

"I don't know what to tell you. I don't think your mum and dad would like you playing on the boy's team and you're too small to play with the older girls. It's only two year's kid, it'll pass quickly."

That was hard, she was a really cute kid and seemed to be honest when she spoke about her skills but what he didn't want was an irate father storming the school when she got hurt playing with the boys.

Stupid that I thought that since that is exactly what happened, only it wasn't the reason I thought.

"What do you mean she can't play? You've got a team, I am happy to sign off for her to play either with older girls or the boys in her year but you still say no?"

Yep, building parent relations was fun. "Mr Kurosaki, Shiori is a great kid; she's really keen in phys ed but I don't want to see her hurt."

"How often does one of your boys get hurt playing football?"

The question threw me, making me hesitate. Mr Kurosaki was standing on the other side of the room with a fierce scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his front. His daughter clearly took her hair colour from him, his shorter and cut spiky but again, hanging in his eyes a bit – maybe it was a family style. His eyes were dark like his daughter's but brown; managing to be ice cold as he glared at me. Pretty hot to be honest. The suit helped I guess, I know what they mean when they say it's like lingerie for guys.

"Rarely, and usually self-inflicted through poor techniques and warm ups. But the boys,"

"I don't give a toss what the boys think. I want a decent reason why my eleven year old, who has been winning tournaments isn't going to get a chance to play for her school."

"I can't be seen to be giving special treatment. She might be able to keep up, doesn't mean other girls will."

"Then let her try out, if she bombs, if she isn't good enough then we'll accept it and won't bother you again."

I thought about it for a moment, if the kid really was as good as her father seemed to think she was then she might be a good addition but I did worry that he might be a soccer mom type who was just pushing his girl into being a boy.

"What position did you play in high school Mr Kurosaki?" I did not expect my question to bring such a loud response, the guy laughing with a genuine smile on his face for a second.

"Me? Play? You must be joking. I'm not really the football type. I'm not really one for team sports. Shiori gets it from my sister, they're really close."

It was nice to see the guy relax, he obviously realised I was caving and it showed in his body language and in his expression. His eyes were lighter and his face was held more to the light.

"Is her mum sporty too?"

And in those five words he completely reverted to the scowling tense individual that walked into the classroom at the end of the day.

"No, Shiori doesn't really take after her. She has her eyes, that's about it."

Well that ends that conversation anyway.

"Well I will organise try-outs and we'll see about Shiori's place on the team."

Mr Kurosaki sighed before looking a bit rueful; obviously he wasn't the only one feeling the tension. "Thank you Mr Jeaggerjaques. Shiori has told me some wonderful things about you; it's good to see they're only slightly exaggerated." He held his hand out to me, his long arm reaching further than I thought. He wasn't as tall as me but he was very slim, looking longer because of proportion.

"Oh, I'd hate to think what the kids say when they get home. Did she say I had horns and fangs?"

"No, she told me you had blue hair, were seven feet tall and had very white teeth. We clearly need to work on her measuring skills."

I was actually flattered that the guy had mentioned only the descriptive things his daughter said, meaning he'd been looking at me. Now I'm not vain – well alright I know I'm pretty hot but it's always nice to know it's appreciated by the one's I like to impress. I don't think all the housewives and yummy mummies that give me the eye at parent's night would even believe that I was gay but it's true. But this was a kid's parent, so out of bounds completely.

"Well not quite seven feet. Six foot 2 actually. Mr Gilga is six foot 8, when she gets him for basketball she'll realise I'm just normal."

Mr Kurosaki blushed a little; I had to repeat out of bounds twice in my head.

"Hardly normal. I'm probably the tallest in my family at five ten so she's not exactly got much to compare it to. Well at least I don't bump my head on stuff. Anyway I've wasted enough of your time. I'll see you at the first game Mr Jeaggerjaques."

"Call me Mr J, the name's too long."

"Alright Mr J."

"Can I call you Mr K?"

"Just call me Ichigo, bye Mr J."

Ichigo. Sweet like a strawberry.

OUT OF BOUNDS.

iiiiiiiii

That little twerp had me believing his daughter's skills were equal to the boys in her year. How wrong he was. I wanted that little beauty on my senior squad, height difference or no she was excellent.

First game she scored three goals. Three! We only scored four in total.

The actual game was a bit of a blur to me, the parent section being too big a distraction. If I thought the suit was a good look it was nothing on the casual skinny jeans and oversized jumper he wore to the game. The jumper would have probably been too big on me so it drowned him making him look cute. CUTE, yep I used that word to describe a guy at least my age if not older. I did sit and do the math a little. I was thirty two, meaning if I'd had a daughter who was eleven it meant I would have had to be twenty one. He could actually be younger than me and have a first year child – that was a damn scary thought.

Yeah watching him push the jumper off his hands to cheer on his little lightning bolt before letting it fall back over for the warmth was clearly more interesting than watching the other team score on us. I'll admit it; I wanted to score on him. OOB, OOB. (Out of Bounds)

When the whistle blew announcing us the winner I had to take a second to check the board before joining in the frenzy. Unfortunately the over eager team resulted in an injury – thankfully after the game was over. One of the boys went over on his ankle badly and went down with a yelp. Surprisingly it was little Shiori that was at his side a moment later, holding his sore ankle down and keeping him still. I dashed over to take care of it but was body checked by a running jumper (yeah, I love that phrase too). Ichigo was the one left standing, purely from the impact absorption effect on his jumper I assumed but he offered me a hand again, I accepted it and let him pull me up. He was stronger than he looked even through his hands were delicate and soft. He clearly didn't play goalie for a team of teenagers regularly.

I didn't even have to help the kid, Shiori briefing her dad on the boy's leg for Ichigo to take over. He asked the boy if he could check his ankle before gently removing the boot and prodding the area. The boy yelped when it was rotated but Ichigo said he didn't think it was broken. The fallen boy's mother came over at that point and was flapping a bit, worried about her son obviously but a bit annoying. She hung off Ichigo a bit too much for my liking but he gave her an insincere half smile before standing and helping the boy to his feet.

"He needs to rest it but if the pain gets so bad he can't move it at all he should go to the hospital for an x-ray. I don't think anything is broken but the foot's a funny thing. Even a pulled ligament is sore though so rest is the main thing alright?"

The mother thanked him, gripping his arm in passing before letting her son use her as a crutch.

"Thanks for that Ichigo; I take it you're first aid trained? I might be looking for a volunteer to come to away games."

It was Shiori that laughed that time, in exactly the same way Ichigo did in my classroom weeks ago. Her face lit up and with the wide smile she looked just like her father, eye colour being ignored. He smiled in response, a small blush on his face. "Dad's a doctor, he works in the hospital. He probably deals with eighteen sprains a day!"

"Shiori don't exaggerate. She's right though."

Ichigo shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, the long sleeves spilling over. So not only was the guy hot and cute, he was smart which just made him hotter. OOB OOB.

"Alright then Doc, so where do I stand of having a team doctor at matches?" It was a good suggestion. If he was going to be there anyway he could have an official position, and a reason to stand nearer me. Might let me actually focus on the game.

"It'll depend on my shifts, I wouldn't count on me, I don't want to let you down."

Why did my mind picture him going down? OOB!

Well what so we think? Let me know folks.