A/N: It amuses the bunnies that Miss Ochi really is like this in canon….
The neatest thing about summer break, Miss Ochi thought, wrapped in invisibility as she sat cross-legged on her desk, was watching how students came back after it. Some showed up bubbly and tan, after weeks of fun in the sun at greater Edo’s dragon-guarded beaches. Some slunk in pale and depressed, having spent their time off helping their families in less-than-lucrative trades.
And then, there was Keigo.
Miss Ochi smirked as she watched the younger Kurosaki slouch into homeroom, having casually clothes-lined his over-enthusiastic classmate. Nice form, perfect timing and execution… damn, he’s gotten even better.
She barely kept herself from giggling in glee. Her own private puzzle just kept surprising her.
Not that Ichigo knew he was her puzzle. But ever since that unnamed ghost had attacked the Kurosaki Clinic… well, you’d have to be blind or utterly careless to have missed the changes in the young man.
Or, practically speaking, not crazy. Because, after all, faculty opinion held that anyone with hair that orange just had to have red dragon blood. Which, as everyone knew, meant chaos, evil, trouble, and just plain someone who would never amount to anything good for society. He didn’t even have sorcerous potential to balance it out. If his grades had ever slipped, he’d have been out on his ear in an instant. As it was, Ichigo had never actually done anything. Besides stick up for Chad… which no few of her fellow teachers thought was clear evidence of evil right there.
Hidebound jerks. You are not your father’s blood. Even if Yatsutora’s father was evil – and we don’t know that. The kid’s being sponsored for paladin training by the church of Rao, for gods’ sakes. There’s not an evil bone in his body.
Not to mention, if Ichigo had had the hoodlum tendencies her fellow instructors seemed eager to hang on the kid, he’d never have been such good friends with Tatsuki. Miss Arisawa had a threat-to-Orihime sense that had to be seen to be believed, and more than enough bare-handed fighting prowess to back it up.
Though given what Miss Ochi had seen – and her fellow teachers somehow hadn’t – before break, Tatsuki might find Ichigo a bit beyond even her skills, now.
I should just get all of the faculty blindfolds for Winterfest, the retired bard thought ruefully, wincing as Keigo’s next screech hit a perfect E above high C. Too bad the handsome brunet was training for sorcerer, not bard. She’d give his horrified leap into Mizuiro’s arms 9.5 out of 10 for sheer entertainment value.