Chapter 15

Zaraki lounged back in the chair trying to focus on the ceiling above and not on Seven currently drawing his blood for another test. Since that night over a week ago when he had reasserted his claim on his Sentouki the tremors had stopped entirely. He was still sleeping nearly all day but his chances of another seizure had dropped, calming down his over-protective dogs. He still wasn't allowed to participate in a Spell battle though, not until they knew for sure he was functioning at 100%.

"All finished Zaraki-kun."
"Ah, thank you."
"Of course, please give this to the cafeteria staff the next time you go in. I'm relaxing your diet since you've been displaying fewer symptoms. If you feel any vertigo or nausea come back immediately."
"Zaraki-sama will do so."
"I need to finish these tests so go on back to your room; I had to take a little more blood than usual this time, so you should start feeling lightheaded soon."
"Understood, thank you Seven-san."
"You're welcome Zaraki-kun, I'll send you a notice as soon as the tests have finished processing."
"Very well, until later."

Climbing down from the chair Zaraki slowly made his way back to the door, a little woozy from the blood lost for the next round of testing. Luckily Shishio was patiently waiting outside the door. The brunet moved to Zaraki-s side to subtly keep him steady on the way back to Fateless' room. They ignored the whispers from the other students they passed. Both had earned a certain reputation at Septimal Moon, one of being absolutely ruthless and ending every battle in a Total Restriction. Fateless was an utterly sadistic pair, the first to actually create Spells that were labeled as "Forbidden". Endless were considered to be machines; the Sacrifice had an unmatched -and unheard of- pain tolerance that rendered most Spells useless, and the Sentouki could cast overpowered Spells with the shortest words. In their world where a Spells' strength relied on the number of syllables in the word, he broke the system.

FATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESS

"Son-of-a-bitch!"
"Ha! You need to learn to duck."
"I'll show you needing to duck!"
"What the hell! Get your hands away from there! That's Shi-pon's property!"
"Oh. My. God. Aoshi. That is far more information than I ever wanted to know about you and Mukuro."
"It's not like we hide it."

Hiruma gagged and mock-hurled as he shot Hibari a dark glare. The blond just grinned unrepentantly and shrugged a shoulder uncaringly. Both males had stripped down to a pair of sweatpants each and were currently sparring. Hiruma was using every Jujutsu move he had ever learned to counter Hibari's devastatingly effective Krav Maga attacks. The golden eyed Sacrifice had been told by Zaraki that Hiruma had been manipulated, but he still didn't trust him. All that told him was that the Sentouki was mentally too weak.

The surrounding people also using the public gym tried not to stare at the teens who had been using the mas for two hours now without a break. Both had stocky, muscled frames that were suprising for their obviously young age. Hibari released a breath and walked away from Hiruma to grab his water bottle and take a drink. Understanding the dismissal was the end of the match the brunet copied his actions. Toweling off both males pulled tank tops on and grabbed their bags, heading out the door to return to Seven Voices Academy.

When they got back it was to near chaos. Students were running back and forth down the hallways and they could hear Spells being cast. Both males shared a look- another test so soon? A Search and Battle test at that? Tightening his hold on his bag Hiruma ran down the hall following the bond between him and Zaraki; Hibari was right behind him, he knew that his Fighter was protecting their Master. The brunet saw a familir face out of the corner of his eye, a sneer curled his lip at the sight of long blond hair. Agutsuma? What was that fucker doing here? He barely took notice of the tiny figure wrapped in the Blank Fighter's arms.

FATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESSFATELESS

Zaraki finished the last of his tea and set the cup down prompting Shishio to close his book.

"Now?"
"Yes, Hiruma-kun is on his way. Zaraki-sama will need my dogs to stick very close."
"Of course Master."

The young teen stood up and pulled on his coat, the black material flaring around his form and making him seem even smaller and more fragile, especially when his 5'2" frame was beside Shishio's 5'11" height. Shishio let his gaze -unblocked by his usual visor, allowing mercurial silver irises to gleam in the fluorescent lighting- fall on his Master; head tilted to the side, he tried to view him as another would. A lithe, androgynous figure with waves of pink hair brushing a tiny waist; apathetic purple irises framed by pink brows and purple makeup. A black pea coat cinched at the waist and tight white jeans tucked into black heeled boots. Zaraki looked delicate, but Shishio knew better. Zaraki was like cinnabar crystals- pretty and unassuming, but deadly if handled wrong.

Shishio finished his musings as the rooms' front door opened. Hiruma and Hibari were wearing thunderous expressions as water dripped from their soaked clothing. Zaraki merely raised a brow and tapped his foot waiting for an explanation. Hiruma just glared back while Hibari shook off the excess water.

"Some little idiot couldn't keep his Rain Spell inside the declared field."
"Master's Fighter broke the idiot's nose."

Zaraki just rolled his eyes, how childish his Fighter was.

"Hurry up and change, Zaraki has plans to finish and a time limit to do so."
"What kind of plans?"

The pink haired Sacrifice simply grinned darkly as suppressed rage filled his indigo gaze.

"Zaraki-sama is fulfilling a promise."