It wasn't a good idea.

Scratch that, it was a bad, very bad idea.

Mitsukuni brought Sweets closer to his chest as he readjusted his grip on his sling bag. The toe of his shoe hit the ground a few times, to make sure that his feet were correctly snuggled in the pair of sneakers, and he breathed. Half to psych himself, half to relax his tense nerves.

He rolled his neck and shoulders, stretched his arms and legs, and massaged his joints with methodic care. He didn't want to twist his ankle or hurt himself because of some rooky mistakes, such as not warming up. That would both be painful and hurt his pride as a confirmed Martial Artist.

His mind replayed his carefully crafted scenario from the eve before. It was something he thought of in a hurry seconds before going to sleep, and while he knew his plan wasn't full proof— and he hated that fact, it would do for now. After all, beggars weren't choosers, and he didn't have the luxury of time.

The clock was ticking, and if there was one thing Mitsukuni was helpless against, it was Time without a doubt. As someone who experienced death once, and saw the ravage such a seemingly harmless thing could do, he had long since stopped underestimating the notion.

His doe eyes flicked to look at the mute Sweets in his arms. He squeezed her tighter, wondering if he should bring her with him or leave her behind in safety. He bit his lower lip, oh the dilemma!

His honey-brown irises met the two pitch-black buttons that made up Reiko's eyes in a staring contest. "I—" under her persistent stare, Mitsukuni's words got stuck in his throat. He choked. "Don't look at me like that, Sweets," he whined, his lips tugging down into a pout as his eyes got slightly teary.

He sniffled. Without much surprises, Reiko remained unmoved.

He sighed. "Come on, Sweets, stop it!" he muttered, wiping the fake tears from his lashes as he looked down on the silent plush. He was such a weak man against her stare. With a defeated sigh, he slid his honey-brown eyes to her small fluffy figure.

"Okay, I'll take you," he conceded, not looking in her eyes as he spoke. "But! You have to stay silent, and you can't leave me, okay?" he assured, a hand to his waist as he waved his pointer finger at the cat plush in a warning.

Reiko didn't put up any resistance, and he gave a relieved smile, lightly patting the top of her head. "Good, I knew Sweets was obedient," he praised before lifting her from her seat on a rock. He undid the ribbon around her neck, fearing that it might fall off during his journey, and stuffed it in his sling bag. "I'll tie it back after, okay?"

He seemed to hear Reiko agree, and his smile brightened.

"Okay, let's go!" he chirped, securing his grip on Reiko before he began to climb the rocky path that led up the hill to 3-E. He would be quick and discreet. No one would see him, no one would know that he disobeyed the rules.

He had notified Gakushu earlier in the morning that he didn't feel well— feigning a stomachache that Gakushu deduced was from eating too much cake. The blond will notify the teachers, and it wouldn't leave a single trace on his record. As for his grandparents, he'll tell them that he wanted to get some fresh air.

If he played it well, acted cute enough, and fluttered his lashes correctly, they would come to forget the incident.

With these thoughts, Mitsukuni confidently set feet on the path to E-class' prefab.

::

"One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight!"

The faraway voice came to Mitsukuni's sharp ear, he frowned. That voice, he definitely knew it. His steps paused to look up at the hill, there wasn't much left to climb, and if he continued at his previous pace, he would be there in a bit less than a minute.

He sighed, readjusted his grip on Sweets to ensure that she wouldn't fall before he turned to look at the lush forest next to him. He stretched his legs for a bit, jumped to test his elasticity while being careful not to fall and sprain his ankle, and walked closer to the nearest tree.

He felt the trunk with his palm. Fortunately, while he didn't know the forest like the back of his hand, he came once and could almost map it in his mind. It was nothing accurate, but it was enough to give him a good idea of where he was located.

He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should put Reiko in his sling bag. His honey-brown fell on the cat's shining black ones in silence. He bit his lower lip and sat. "Sorry, Sweets," he muttered as he opened his sling bag. "It won't be long, promise," he whispered as he carefully put her away in the bag. His lips fell on her soft fabric to lay a kiss on her forehead, and he zipped his bag, hiding her figure from the world.

"Okay, let's do this!" he psyched himself. He readjusted the position on his sling bag's strap, and grabbed the branches around, feeling to see which was the sturdier one. Feeling satisfied with the one in his hand, he began to balance himself before propelling his body with the pendular effect to jump atop one of the higher branches.

He made sure his footing was stable, that his bag hadn't slipped or opened during his action, and looked down to measure the height he was at in case he fell. He blinked. Yeah, not high at all, he should be okay.

With such a mindset, Mitsukuni balanced himself and jumped from tree to tree. He was like Tarzan of the Apes, but without apes, and with clothes, and not in a jungle... You get the picture.

Probably faster than any E-class student currently could, Mitsukuni neared the top of the hill where the familiar voice came from. The counting had yet to stop, and the more Mitsukuni heard it, the more it reverberated in his skull like a mantra, he sharper his doe eyes got.

His determination grew, his movement got faster, more precise, and his pace went up. Worse comes to worst, and E-class caught him, he'll say that he came to get Karma's homework. The redhead was skipping, whatever happened to him later wouldn't be his problem— survival came first.

Plus, the reason he climbed the hill, in the first place, was Karma. So, yeah.

His hands slowed down, he put his palm on the trunk, and carefully leaned forward to get a better look at the situation. He wasn't close enough to see everything in detail, but he could hear most words without troubles. He squinted to better make out the face of the familiar figure.

The sweater was blue and breathed non-Host quality. Mitsukuni grimaced. The man hadn't changed since he last saw him, his buzzcut was still there, and apart from the few kilograms he gained and self-confidence he acquired, nothing was different.

Mitsukuni's focus on Takaoka, he didn't bother to look at the remaining staff. Not that he didn't care for them, but the more he moved, the higher the chances of getting caught.

His encounter with the soldier went back to a year. At the time, after winning yet another international championship, Mitsukuni got an invite from the government. It was nothing much, compared to when he was a Haninozuka and trained the special force, an invite, to Mitsukuni, was similar to a courteous visit.

The government found his Martial prowesses noteworthy and decided to probe him, nothing out of the ordinary. He met some people who held a more or less important position in the government and military, passed an interview and a few psychology and personality tests. To Mitsukuni, there was nothing new or awe-worthy.

And since everything went without a hitch, the commander at the time, decided to bring him to some camps on the weekend— with his parents' authorization, to see how it went and the life in the army.

Mitsukuni vividly remembers how the staff painted the Air Force Drill Instructor. A man of strength and temperament, who led his men with an iron hand while keeping them united the way a family would be. The man was the Patriarch.

The strawberry blond found it funny at the time. It reminded him of the Host Club. Kyoya was the mother, Tamaki both the father, and baby, Takashi and he were the older brothers, the twins the younger brothers, and Haruhi, the only daughter. Fun times.

He thought the male would be commendable from the portrait the staff gave him, someone worth his respect and attention.

Oh, he was worth his attention, that was for sure.

But respect? That man? That thing?

Excuse Mitsukuni, but the name and word simply weren't compatible.

The teen weakly exhaled as the memory flooded his mind. What stood out to him was the cohesion of the group, and mostly the tyrannical rule the Instructor executed on the soldier. It wasn't something you could dismiss as a mere discipline, to Mitsukuni who once trained soldiers, it was closer to brainwashing and scaring people into submission.

He didn't know the process. He didn't ask. And truthfully, he wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. The more he saw, the less enthusiastic he was. He was almost— almost lured into beating the Instructor with his Martial Art, but he refrained. Putting the military into disarray wasn't his goal.

"Mm? What's that midget doing here?"

In the end, you can't blame him. Mitsukuni tried his best to hold back. Destiny was against him, his fist like Newton's apple was attracted to Earth, couldn't help but collide with the man.

"Ha? Boy, stuffed toys are for girls."

How dare he spoke of his Dear Sweets with his filthy mouth?

Thinking about the event made Mitsukuni grith his teeth in annoyance. His honey-brown eyes dangerously flashed, they darkened and an ounce of killing intent leaked from his small body as he zeroed his attention on the man. Oh, it wasn't much, but it was just enough for the staff to take notice of him.

Mitsukuni's body was that of a child, he couldn't control his emotion the way his adult self did.

Four pairs of eyes flicked to look in his direction, and Mitsukuni stopped breathing. He was careless— he hadn't expected the 3-E teachers to be so sensitive to killing intent.

Wait, his eyes narrowed on Takaoka. The male had peeled his gaze off Mitsukuni's way and challenged Karasuma to some type of duel involving a knife and a student. Mitsukuni's mind came to a halt, he blinked, at loss. Was P.E. something that involved knives in the first place?

Also, since when did the army dispense P.E. lessons to Junior High students?

There was something strange with 3-E, and when Mitsukuni thought back on Karma and the raven's reflexes during the Baseball tournament, his suspicion grew. His gaze flickered around, and he noticed the yellow thing that stood with Irina.

He wasn't dumb enough to think that they hadn't noticed him and knew that at any moment, they could point his position out for all to see. Therefore, instead of wasting time fidgeting and thinking about stupid things, Mitsukuni continued to observe.

He saw Takaoka's confident display and something in this mind clicked. Was this the method he used to subdue the soldiers in the Air Force?

Despicable.

Although Mitsukuni grew to accept and tolerate more and more injustice as he grew up, it didn't mean that he tolerated everything. He regretted that Sweets was in his bag and not his arms as he couldn't nuzzle her.

He sat on the branch and observed.

::

"May I ask who you are?" headmaster Asano asked with a polite smile, his eyes discreetly sized the male in front of him, as he raised a questioning eyebrow.

The man, approximatively ten centimeters taller than the headmaster, returned the probing gaze with a sharp, detached look. The man took a glance at his phone screen, Headmaster Asano could see a map on it, before looking up at the brown-haired man.

"Shimamori Takashi," the male— now dubbed Shimamori, enunciated with a polite bow. "Are you Headmaster Asano?" he asked, his voice smooth and low, pleasing to the ear yet slightly cold.

Gakuho's smile deepened. "Himself," he confirmed as he extended his hand for a handshake. 

Despite the height difference, the Headmaster didn't seem one bit overwhelmed by the male's momentum. "You must be from the army," he assessed as he took note of the small scar on the male's brow bone and the tags that hung around his neck.

Shimamori gave a curt nod.

"Are you heading to 3-E? If so, I was heading there myself. Would you care to join me?" the older proposed with ease. He seemed unaffected by the soldier's cold attitude, and when the raven curtly nodded, he chuckled. "Allow me to lead the way," he said before beginning his march up the hill to 3-E.

Shimamori followed behind the man. He observed the shorter's stature, finding that there wasn't any opening to exploit, before focusing on the rocky pathway. It was Shimamori's first operation since joining the secret service, he gave this transfer mission a lot of importance despite it not being hard and praiseworthy.

They soon reached the top of the hill where a commotion had erupted. Shimamori's blue eyes flickered to the side for a flicker, he narrowed them feeling as if he missed something, before refocusing on the scene. He frowned.

"Excuse me, Headmaster, I will be going ahead," he warned before he dashed up the hill. Gakuho merely hummed, his violet eyes trailing along the man's back until he couldn't be seen anymore. The Headmaster was in no hurry and continued his ascension at an unhurried pace.

What greeted Shimamori was the sight of a small boy being surrounded by his class and— Karasuma Tadaomi, if he remembered correctly. His gaze moved past the two other teaching staff to rest on the dazed Takaoka.

The man laid on the ground, spiritless, from the look of it, Karasuma had hit him in the face with his elbow. Shimamori didn't betray an ounce of feelings. He came because he was sent, not to sympathize with his colleagues' situation.

His steps were powerful, and his aura easily noticeable. It didn't take long for the students to notice him. Add his imposing height and naturally cold disposition, the impression he gave was less than friendly. His gaze swept over Takaoka, then paused for a second, and he felt the people around him put their guard up.

Not surprising as he seemed to be on the beaten man's side.

"Sir," he greeted with a military salute as he turned to Karasuma. "Agent Shimamori reporting," he introduced before bowing.

Karasuma seized him up and down. "Relax," he answered, watching as the male straightened an turned to Takaoka's poor figure. The lack of expressivity on the stranger's face made the scene somewhat unnerving.

"Sir," this time Shimamori was looking at the pissed Takaoka. "I have come to fetch you, we received a notice from Board Chairman Asano about your dismissal," he explained before his gaze flicked to the said brown head.

Headmaster Asano smiled, he began his speech about education and pulled the dismissal paper from his suit's inner pocket. Shimamori's eyes swept the forest, where he thought he sensed a presence again. Nothing.

Did he think wrong, or did the person go?

His eyes minutely narrowed. He brushed his lower lip with his thumb. He wanted a cigarette.

Hehehe, oh my, look who did his entrance?

Anyway, here starts the new arc. I call this one the Doubt Arc, the last one before the "action" begins in a way. Mitsukuni saw things he shouldn't have, and he's going to have to look into it!

Also, Bonus Chapter on its way, keep the lookout!

Here's a reference about Shimamori Takashi's looks: