Chapter 3 - Mistaken


A Lesson in Humility: Mistaken


Munch… Munch… “Mmh.” Munch… “Mm-mmh.” Munch…


Time has always passed rather quickly for Satsuki. Her life, both as an heiress to the REVOCS fortune and in the pursuit of her personal desires; her training most of all, and most recently in the administration of Honnouji Academy, she could hardly recall a moment in her short life in which she’d been afforded any longer than a moment of peace in which to collect herself; a time in which she could sense the minutes themselves ticking by instead of racing past as she hurdles forward to her future.


Munch… Tink- thud. “Shit. Shit…” Munch...


That is, until she found herself cursed. Cursed with a diminished body. Blighted by a diminished presence. Damned by the loss of her authority. Transformed from pillar Honnouji was built around to something pathetic and ineffectual in the eyes of her peers.


Munch... Brush-brush… “Mmm… Whatever...” Munch… Munch…


Something feeble and grotesque in the eyes of her underlings.


Munch…


And something invisible to the absolute dregs of the academy. 


Gulp.


Satsuki found herself leaning over a platter; while not empty, one whose only contents were the remnants of the pastries that once liberally covered it. Much like the jutting shelf of Satsuki’s bosom and the corners of her mouth, it was positively littered with crumbs. It was one in the afternoon. One month ago, Satsuki’s day would already be in full swing at a time like this; and she’d likely be immersed in some manner of observation or intervention in the daily life of her pet project. Now; that very same pet seems to have seized control of its own leash from the feeble hand of its owner. She’d only been awake for about an hour, and she’d previously eaten a full meal before her… Generous snack. While the once-proud class president might have wanted to call a situation like this exceptional…


This was how she’d been living for the past three weeks. 


Her presence had already diminished in the week immediately succeeding her change; but following the grand… Experiment in the sewing club, Satsuki couldn’t will herself to leave the confines of her room for anything. She’d been hearing less and less reports from her elite four - was their hold on the school faltering, or were they too deeply immersed in maintaining order on their lonesome? Satsuki didn’t know. She had her head buried in the proverbial sand…


And she hated it. Whereas her life moved at a breakneck pace before, now it's slowed to a positively glacial crawl. Each minute tangibly rolled by, and every second of inactivity was met with a musing about what she could be doing - what she should be doing - and yet, she did nothing. She couldn’t do anything, she told herself. She didn’t hold the school’s leash anymore; she didn’t make the schedule, and she didn’t drive the students… For all intents and purposes, it was she who was at their mercy. Few, if any, moreso than the sewing club.


The… Debacle that led to her body further twisting prompted a shift in their research methodology. The sewing club was… Fascinated with the results; and seeing just how radically and suddenly she’d changed. It was something of an inspiration that simply incensed them to propose more experimental and radical alterations to the outfit… Which Satsuki herself stopped. Her confidence may have diminished, but she still had her pride. No matter how many images of her bare crotch they had. If she had nothing else, she still had Shiro’s ear - for now, at least. She’d convinced him to take a more cautious approach in further experiments… A decision that pleased nobody; least of all Satsuki.


Compared to the previous experiment, the next ones were… Tame. No unexpected side-effects, no wild alterations to her outfit… No steps closer to normalcy. Each revision of the outfit took a week at a time to produce, furthermore - the safety was costing her precious time; but she knew full well that haste risked her losing… Considerably more. Every day she felt the effects of the change - both how it affected her originally… And how it’d come to change since then.


Satsuki’s legs squirmed as she removed herself from her chair - first having to remove herself from a cushion that put her more than chin-level with the table itself, even with the generous padding she had below. She brushed off some more crumbs from her chest, which ended up disappearing among the soft, carpeted floor. Her breasts jutted far enough outward, in defiance of gravity, that they simply caught everything that didn’t end up in… Or around her mouth. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been a problem a month ago; or at least a lesser one, but… In her month of isolation, she’d begun to develop quite an appetite. Or, perhaps not an appetite…


But she had been eating more. She hardly left her room for anything more than the occasional measurement at the sewing club; or to undergo one of their experiments. She didn’t have any reason to leave otherwise - it wasn’t like she was making speeches. And the thought of encountering other students… The thought of countering that damned delinquent Ryuko… It was bothersome enough to cause her to break out into a cold sweat. With nowhere else to go - with nothing else to do… She’d grown a bit hungry for something to occupy her time. 


Satsuki didn’t have many hobbies of leisure. Sure, she was well-versed in literature; but she cruised through books at such a clip that they didn’t entertain her for long. She’d tried working out but her dorm wasn’t well equipped for that. Besides - her body couldn’t handle much more than a brisk, momentary run without starting to feel downright exhausted. Even practicing her swordsmanship was restrictive - her center of gravity was so offset, and her blade so long, that she teetered over every time she swung the damned thing. Besides, trying and failing to run would only leave her with a bit of fatigue - trying and failing to perform acts of swordplay… Was perhaps a little too dangerous for her to stomach; at least until she’d gotten used to her new balance. 


With little else on the table; she’d simply filled the proverbial table up with food. Eating… In the basest terms, made her feel better. Every day it felt as though the school was turning on her - but the stress of her new form, her diminishing clout, and even that of the lifestyle she’d been forced into… It all faded away, if only for a brief moment, when she was eating. She was well aware it didn’t help - and that the sensation of safety was merely an illusion… But she couldn’t deny its poignancy. 


As she crossed her dining area, she looked over to the door to her dorm. Before all of this, it was a simple, white, wooden structure; blending in easily with the plain wall around it. It was a fragile thing; but in being so, it was a portal through which her own power could exude. Even in her last line of defense, she needed nothing to protect her; because she was capable enough to do so on her own. Now, the wall was smattered with new paint; perhaps a shade darker than the original paint around it, having to be repaired from Ryuko’s attack. At its center was a dense, steel door with several locks and two slats - one at eye level… And the other at her eye level. It was a tangible scar of her whole situation - and even as it formed the barrier between herself and the rest of the school… Its mere presence was a testament of her new relationship with it.


She pushed open the door to her room with both hands; needing them to muster the force to get it open. Satsuki looked ahead at her bed - the covers tossed haphazardly around, and partially hanging off, where she could get at them - and then, averted her eyes. Beyond developing a habit for food… She’d shamefully relented to another indulgence. One she’d swore was imposed on her by her new anatomy. One that, even now, nagged at her from between her legs. In her room; in her private sanctum, she felt comfortable. She felt… Excited, when her thick thighs rubbed together. When she’d occasionally turn and feel her rear brush up against something too close; or when she’d lean too far and feel her breasts nudging against something before her. Such situations were impossible to avoid with as disproportionate as her assets had grown. 


If they were unavoidable… Who could fault her for simply satiating the urges that manifested within her? In her seclusion, her body was starved for stimulation, anyway - so when something happened, it was only natural that it’d be even more troublesome to ignore without something else to distract her. Just as with food - it imposed a reprieve from the stresses plaguing her. For a moment… Or for a night, at least. 


Her cheeks burned red as she moved into her bathroom. The first thing that greeted her was a step stool sitting at the base of her sink - one of several that now lay strewn about her domain. It became a considerable inconvenience to simply repurpose the same one, over and over… Not to mention exhausting. She climbed up, bracing her hands on the basin of the sink as she slowly rose above it. For a moment, her eyes hung on the white porcelain even as it fell lower and lower in her field of view - tentative to look upward. Her lips curled into a grimace as she finally forced them up - and finding her sour-looking face reflected back at her.


At least, it was still somewhat recognizable as her face. She still had her most prevalent features. Her eyes hadn’t changed in the slightest - and her brows were still broad and prominent; furrowed momentarily. They had, however, grown the slightest bit unruly… Which seems to have become a theme with her hair. To say nothing of what lay below, her once immaculately-straight, raven locks seem to have rebelled against her. Her hair had previously been the product of several things. Its sheen and structure owed to her genetics. Its health to her diet and cosmetics. Its style; her own choice - the one she willed it to be. And now…


It was an utter mess. She’d been developing split ends and the slightest bit of messiness over the course of the month; which, perhaps a week in, was simply noticeable… But now it’d practically grown unrecognizable. Strands seemed to go whichever way they willed; any attempt to tame it through brushing earned her more pain than gain. No matter how she washed or dried it, it seemed to settle into a uniquely chaotic style every time. Moreover, it’d grown. She’d taken it upon herself to keep it from brushing the floor - and that, at least, gave her a reason to keep her blade sharp - but it’d simply ruined the ends of her hair. Her bangs, however, were another story. They now fall low enough to cover her eyes - and it was a losing battle to fight against them. 


There was a hairdressing club in the school, but… The thought of revealing herself to such a low-level club for nothing more than a haircut didn’t sit right with her. What’s more - she had no guarantee that it’d work. She fought a losing battle with her… Lower hair throughout the second week before she’d simply given up. Her hair, as though possessed, seemed to return more unruly every time she tried to get rid of it. Cutting back her most… Readily-available hair, the sewing club be damned, likely wouldn’t give her any reprieve - and probably just lead to a much more visible sign of failure.


Satsuki could still see herself in the mirror, but she saw herself buried. Buried under more hair; buried under more… Pudge. The defined angularity of her face had softened in the slightest, just as the rest of her body had. She didn’t know if it was purely from her new diet or a result of the uniform - but it felt better to push the blame on the latter. 


Her pudgy hands reached across the basin to start the water flowing, washing her face free of crumbs. Over the running water, she could hear a distant commotion - and the harsh metallic squeak of her ill-fitted but doubtlessly-durable new door sliding open. Her brow furrowed again as she shut off the water, toweling her mouth off. By instinct, she moves to take a step toward the door… And almost throws herself off of the step stool in the process. She catches the edge of the sink with one hand and steadies herself, wobbling on the top step and bumping her rear against it; causing her to wince. 


“Shit.” she grumbles, more cautiously stepping down this time. She can hear footsteps fast approaching; and her heartbeat quickens. She braces one hand on the bathroom door and peers outward - finding her butler standing in her doorway, holding a parcel in his hand. 


“Delivery for you, Lady Satsuki.” he says, stepping inward. During this whole time… He’d been the only one she could truly count on; even if it was simply as a servant. When she wanted food, he’d bring it. When she wanted more - he’d bring that too. He’d kept the top shelves of her room from gathering dust now that she couldn’t reach them - and… He existed purely to highlight how little she could do in this new form. Even her dorm; her private domicile, had places inaccessible to her. While she appreciated him being there to access them for her - it only drove her own inability home.


Satsuki grimaced as she stepped out from behind the door - stopping herself from… Cowering. That was the only way she could describe it. “Thank you.” she offers, as he places the package on a lower shelf and takes his leave. Satsuki truly didn’t know what to expect of herself - expect of her instincts, nowadays. She felt like she hadn’t gotten used to her body enough, in part - and still occasionally moved as though she had the same statuesque height; the same svelte frame as she knew she should… Even if it was fading into memory. On the other hand, every so often, she felt like she was getting too used to this pathetic form. Shying away from the prospect of human contact - it sickened her; but not more than the idea seemed to intimidate her. She’d grown hard to gauge - as much as she could expect from this new body of hers, there was so much she couldn’t hope to anticipate… Or simply didn’t want to. She couldn’t tell where her natural inclinations ended and her new ones began - or where they’d end up, given time. Just as her face was buried under so much of this change… So too was her mind. 


Or so she thought. She rubs her forehead as she moves over to the package; her heartbeat beginning to slow back to a normal pace. She recognized the tight plastic packaging as being from the sewing club - and her eyes perked up. She wasn’t expecting anything from them today. The plastic crinkled in her hands as she picked it up, hastily unsealing it and reaching inward. What she finds waiting for her is… As she suspected, something made of fabric. But, not the kind of fabric she anticipated. Hastily, she yanks the contents out - causing a card to fling itself out onto the floor with it. 


Resting in her grasp is a Honnouji Academy uniform. Not her uniform; not a starred uniform… A plain, no-star uniform. It was the kind of outfit an absolute nobody would wear; somebody that wasn’t worth sparing the slightest amount of life fibers for. The pigs in human clothing she so-often derided. Her mildly-tired eyes look across the blue skirt and simple white top with disdain, not merely because of its presence… But because she realized it was… Atypical in its fit. It wasn’t meant for just any student to slip on - the broad waist of the skirt and… Roomy top were clearly meant for her. She drops it haphazardly upon the shelf as she leans down to pick up the card. “Shiro better damn well have a good explanation for this.” she grumbles.


“Lady Satsuki,
As per your mandate upon our experimentation, my sewing club has


His sewing club? Satsuki scoffed. He might be in charge of it, but she was in charge of him. No matter how loose her grip had become, this school was hers, and everything in it belonged to her. She rubbed her forehead wearily as she continued reading.


been surveying the nature of the ‘master fiber’ in greater detail. True to our hypothesis, it has been proven to have an effect on the fibers around it. However, in uniforms with a higher concentration of life fibers, this seems to cause an undue amount of aggravation. In the interest of caution, we have been progressively lessening the percentage of life fibers in our experimental uniforms. Ultimately, we have concluded that the safest course of action would be to include a sole fiber - the ‘master’ alone - in the uniform, to test its nature in isolation. I trust this conforms to your standards of our scientific method. Please record any side-effects before our next meeting.
Best of luck,
Shiro”


Satsuki crushes the paper in her hands, tossing it to the side. The nerve of that bastard. If she wouldn’t approve another humiliating test; or some lofty extreme for his club to debase her with, he’d do nothing at all, was that it? She leers at the uniform, marching toward it to throw it aside…


But, she thinks… The worst thing about it was that it was something that needed to be observed. The only fiber in Ragyo’s ‘gift’ seemed to be the master fiber alone - at least; that’s all that was recovered from it. In that case; that was enough to initiate this whole debacle to begin with. If adding more fibers to it simply aggravated it, like he said… It wasn’t like she could afford to ignore this possibility. The logic was sound, but the presentation left much to be desired. “Best of luck.” she sneers. When this was all over with - she’d hang that bastard high for the indignity he put her through. Brilliance be damned - he was digging his own grave.


Satsuki begins removing the scarf from her own uniform, followed by the top. Immediately after disrobing that little, the changes upon her body were rather prevalent. Even with the thin layer of pudge that’d manifested across her arms, the thatches of hair beneath them still grew dense and unruly enough to poke out from under them; the dark hair only more noticeable against her naturally-pale skin. Moreover, a noticeable trail seems to have risen across the rolls of her pudgy stomach to reach her navel. Since her fight with them had ended - unsuccessfully, of course - she’d almost grown accustomed enough to their presence to simply ignore them. The only thing that brought her attention back to the unsightly hair was when she wanted to… Alleviate stress; and found her pudgy fingers roaming through the curled bush resting over her puffy-lipped sex.


Her skirt followed - and her legs were bare to begin with. Were it not for her butler, she’d have been worried that they’d begun to grow dusty with as little as she’d used them in the past month. Leaving perhaps once every week meant footwear was less of a necessity than ever before. What’s more, balancing in those heels with her proportions didn’t make wearing them easy. Satsuki shook the plastic packaging again until a rather plain pair of flats came tumbling out, followed by a packaged pair of stockings. Plain, Satsuki thought - that’s what defined the ensemble. Were it not for her outlandish proportions - she supposed it might define her too. Bitterly, she wonders whether or not she should be thankful for it. 


When she holds up the top of the uniform, she can sense the fiber within it. It’s warm to the touch; warmer still as she slides into it. As she affixes the scarf, she tenses up - unsure of whether or not the uniform itself had tightened, or if she was just a little too sensitive to her own actions. At the very least - if it did rebel against her again, it was just the top. Shiro hadn’t provided her any specialty underwear, either - and she was relieved at that. The last thing she wanted was for it to hijack that again. 


Even if the uniform was clearly created for her - Satsuki couldn’t help but wonder if it was properly fitted. She walked before her full-body mirror - now hardly reaching up to half of its height - and surveyed the uniform. The skirt covered less than an inch beneath the curvature of her ass - she figured that anything from bending down to a simple stiff breeze would show off her ass to the world. Her cheeks reddened - by now, she wasn’t sure if the sewing club simply wanted another opportunity to oogle her bare crotch again. She was sure that the territory between the tops of her stockings and bottom of her skirt was much too wide - but she couldn’t tell if it was simply the sizing of the outfit or merely her meaty legs. 


Perhaps the most undignified aspect of the outfit was the midriff. She wasn’t quite used to wearing anything that bore that - at least; not in her memory. She’d seen that on most students, the top was long enough to cover everything except… Perhaps less than an inch between its bottom and the top of their skirt? Satsuki’s rotund stomach stretched that into several inches of pudge that poked over the edge of her skirt and bore her furry navel. Satsuki placed a hand upon it, and shamefully tried to suck it in. She managed for all of ten seconds before she was forced to exhale - nudging her top up an inch further from the force of the expanding bulk before she forced it back down.


“Shameless.” she whispered. “Horrid.” She turns away from her reflection, holding her head in her hands. “Hideous.” She can feel sorrow welling within her. If this was the best Shiro could do under her guidance… Maybe it was worth the risk to let him take them helm? Maybe her oversight… Just wasn’t good enough?


Satsuki paused, peeking out from between her fingers and beyond her unruly bangs. Her eyes, already feeling misty, caught the sight of her blade leaning beside the frame of her door. She hadn’t touched it much since the threat of training with it became too much to bear. Her hands drop to her sides as she approaches it, grabbing it by the sheathe and pulling it out; just by an inch. She could see herself reflected in the well-forged steel. A shadow of her former self. Afraid to take the slightest risk. Afraid to cut herself on her own blade, even if it meant she could learn to hold her own once more. Afraid to embarrass herself in front of followers who should be begging to do her bidding, even if it meant fixing this. Afraid to reveal this grotesque form for something as simple as speaking to a human being. 


She’d been battered down by this change so much that she’d forgotten why she’d come to control this school in the first place. It was her gambit; a gamble for a chance at freedom. Her freedom from her mother, the world’s freedom from the tyranny of clothes. It wasn’t guaranteed by any measure - but she didn’t let the possibility or repercussions of failure chain her down. She had enough chains as it is. 


Perhaps her body was greatly diminished, she supposed. Perhaps her confidence wasn’t absolute. And yet, she still lived at the very peak of Honnouji Academy. A woman so small still watched over the entire school as though they were ants at her feet. Perhaps she looked like them - perhaps she looked like the worst of them… 


But she was still Satsuki Kiryuin. 


She slid her blade back into place and took its sheathe firmly in her hand. Perhaps this uniform was what she needed. It gave her a chance to see just how pathetic she was - and though she’d recognized the parts of her feeble ensemble, taking in the whole gave her a sobering view of herself. How little of her new silhouette overlapped with her prior one - but at the same time, how much remained within its borders. That was the stuff that counted. What she’d lost, she thought, didn’t matter - it was mere baggage shed to lighten her load and propel her, unburdened, forward and beyond.


For the first time in a month, she gave an earnest smile. She was willing to risk life and limb to destroy REVOCS - and it was simply time for her to owe up to the sacrifices she was prepared to make. She marched out of her room, blade in hand… And her free hand occasionally brushing her untamed bangs out of her eyes. When she reached the threshold of her room…


Satsuki had to call her butler to open it for her. 


But after that had been done, she moved freely through the halls. She didn’t shrink or shrivel the same way she had when she’d moved through them in the past month. Every trip she made to the sewing club prior, it felt like she was shrinking more and more into herself; shielding herself feebly and meekly - or, in her mind, hunching closer and closer to the ground, as though she was getting closer and closer to crawling like a pig on all fours. She dispelled the mental image; as in her mind, she was beyond it.


Her steady decline into the realm of the meek had been abated with this revelation. Satsuki Kiryuin was, once more, a woman with purpose. As much as she hated to admit it - Shiro had been right. There needed to be something of a risk in their work - and she was sure the devious and creative minds of the sewing club had already conjured a great many things. Perhaps they weren’t the correct result - perhaps they’d merely twist Satsuki’s form further and further… But failure was ephemeral. Just a stepping stone on the way to ultimate victory. Her flats click softly in the winding halls of Honnouji - and Satsuki was so fixated on her goal that she hardly noticed another set of footsteps joining hers.


The sewing club wasn’t far now - just a few turns away. Satsuki moved quickly - doubly so now that she wasn’t wearing high heels - and was prepared to crest a corner… When she heard a shout behind her.


“Hey!” a harsh voice belted out. “No-star!”


Satsuki didn’t pause. She rounded the corner, paying no mind to the voice. She supposed it was a little odd for a student without a one-star uniform at least to be on this level; so she wasn’t surprised that somebody was chasing one down. Satsuki scoffed - her school had surely fallen into a sorry state if they were letting the rabble simply roam where they pleased. At the very least, whoever was calling after them seemed to be running after them; by the sounds of their frantic footsteps. She-


Satsuki felt something wrap around her ankle. As soon as it secures itself around her, she pauses - but she tips forward, thrown off balance, and falls to the ground with a harsh thud. A soft, pained groan escapes her, and she slowly rolls herself over, holding a hand on her skirt to keep it secured over her ass. As she turns back to the beginning of the hallway, she finds a figure standing in the center; with a long band of fabric linking them and Satsuki together.


“Don’t ignore me.” 


Glaring down at Satsuki was a another student; her black hair set in an immaculate pixie cut, and a thin pair of glasses perched delicately on her nose. The uniform she wore clearly wasn’t the bog-standard - not as far as typical uniforms or even one-stars went. Sheer stockings rolled up her legs well beyond the hem of her rather long and modest skirt. Rather than the typical uniform top, she wore a shirt, tie, and grey jacket. Most exceptionally; she wore two smooth, metallic gauntlets on her lower arms. The ovoid devices had a series of wide, flat openings around her wrist - and two glimmering red stars on their sides. A band of fabric stuck out from one of them, adhered firmly to Satsuki’s ankle. 


The two-star student raises her arm upward - and Satsuki could feel the binding fabric snag, then hastily retract, dragging her back down the hallway with it. She shouted as she felt her ass dragged across the floor; and she braced herself on the sheath of her sword until she was sitting at the other student’s feet. 


“Honnouji Academy must be in a sorry state if our supposedly dutiful, honorable students are letting the rabble just roam wherever they please.” she spits. “But if nobody else wants to take responsibility, then it just gives me a better opportunity to do so.”


Satsuki braces her sword on the ground and staggers back to her feet. “Release m-” she begins, only for the student to yank on her ankle again, flooring her. 


“You don’t get to make demands, no-star.” The student steps back, and Satsuki finally feels the fabric release itself, retracting into her gauntlet.


Glaring venomously at her from the floor, Satsuki fires back “And you do?”


A look of fury briefly crosses the other student’s face. “Yes.” she asserts. “I do.” She crosses her hands over her chest, puffing it out. “Honnouji Academy is a school where only the strong survive. Only the worthy can claw their way up from the ranks of the dregs and pigs that flood into the academy’s doors in droves,” She jabs a thumb against her chest. “and only the strongest claw their way into the ranks beyond that! That’s where I’ve climbed - and I’ll climb higher still!” 


Satsuki rolls around on the ground as she rises back up on her feet. “How bold.” she murmurs laconically. 


“Exactly!” she says, whipping a finger toward Satsuki. “I won’t rest until I’ve reached the end of the path Lady Satsuki had set for me! Me! Debate club president, Akeno Fugi!” Her boisterous cries resonate within the halls, but only earn a look of confusion from Satsuki.


“Lady Satsuki?” she murmurs.


Returning to crossing her arms before her, Akeno nods firmly. “Yes. It’s in her image that Lady Satsuki created this school - created this way of life. To prepare us for the endless struggle that awaits us when we leave!” She places a hand on her chest, smiling. “I won’t rest until I see her vision given form - and I’ve dedicated myself to-” 


As she continues, Satsuki had begun to walk away.


“Hey!” she yelps. “I’m not done with you!” 


Satsuki shoots a look over her shoulder. “And I’m done with you. Lady Satsuki has more important business than-” Satsuki’s eyes widen as several bands of fabric lash out at her, entwining themselves around her ankles, shoulders and chest. Her heels skid along the floor as the debate club president drags her back to her.


She sneers as she looks down at Satsuki. “Don’t act like you speak for her.” she asserts. “Your indignance is exactly the kind of thing she’d never tolerate in her academy!”


Satsuki balks at the response. She thrusts forward in her bondage, leering upward at Akeno. “Are you blind, or just stupid?” she challenges. She feels a lump rise in her throat as the realization sets in: this student… Didn’t recognize her. Satsuki was surprised - disarmed, even, but she supposed that wasn’t warranted. Beyond the obvious difference in height and figure, and clear difference in attire, her dishevelled hair masked her face, in part - which was easily the last truly recognizable thing about her. A chill runs across her body as she’s faced with a situation she’d been dreading for a month - the revelation of what had become of her.


But… She was beyond that fear, now. She wasn’t going to let herself be paralyzed or forced into inaction due to it. “I am Satsuki Kiryuin.” she asserts, glaring boldly at the two-star student from behind her sloppy bangs.


Akeno seemed likewise disarmed. The look of disdain on her face melted away for a moment; replaced into one of confusion. Satsuki could swear she could see the gears turning in the girl’s head as her eyes roamed over Satsuki’s body - rolling from her face, to her chest, then sidelong over to the sword still clutched in her grasp. Slowly, the look returned, and Akeno’s hands ball into fists - seeming to tighten the bondage around Satsuki’s body - squeezing into the shapeless flab across her form. 


“Indignance is one thing - but this is an insult!” she asserts. “You challenge my senses and my wits; and then make such an absurd declaration!? Maybe the school hasn’t been graced by Lady Satsuki’s presence in recent weeks, but don’t act like we’ve forgotten what she looks like! You dare tarnish her name, comparing her to…” Her eyes leer, and she simply waves a hand vaguely around Satsuki’s body. “This!?”


Satsuki gulps, the student’s tangible fervor seeming to blind her. “Ah-” she begins, her lips pursing. “It’s… It may not be easy… To…”


Another band of fabric lashes out and entwines itself around Satsuki’s lips.


“No!” Akeno asserts, stomping to punctuate herself. “Your demeanor is all wrong - Lady Satsuki doesn’t stammer or trip over her words! She speaks with clear confidence - conviction! It’s like you’ve never even listened to one of her speeches!” Her voice grows more shrill as she berates Satsuki. She takes a deep breath and pinches her brow, shaking her head. “Maybe you haven’t?” she muses. “Maybe - yes. Indignance? Insults? Ignorance? Clearly, you-” Akeno whips a hand out, jabbing Satsuki’s breast. “are a delinquent!”


Satsuki’s breath comes heavily and audibly as panic begins to set in. She was so close to the sewing club - so close to getting back on the right track; to return to her true self. To… To the grandiose image of herself that this deluded student had of her. While, perhaps in another time, such fervor would’ve been flattering - now, it was a clear threat. Even if her shoulders and chest were bound - her arms were free. As Akeno continued to deride her, she reached for the handle of her sword-


And suddenly felt the sheathe yanked out of her hand.


“Too slow!” Akeno chides, holding it up over her head. Satsuki’s eyes widen - she didn’t realize how poor her reflexes had become while she was wasting away in her room. A muffled, whiny yelp escapes the fabric over her mouth, and her hands reach up to regain her blade. The fabric, suspended in midair, keeps her held fast to the ground; and with Akeno towering over her, it was clear that she’d never reach it as she was. “Typical delinquent. Resorting to violence when you can’t get your way. Even then, you fail...” The fabric suddenly jolts forward; away from Akeno, releasing Satsuki and shoving her away. “Because you don’t have the strength to back it up.”


Satsuki tumbles along the ground, grunting as she slowly rolls to a stop. When she finally steadies herself back on her feet, she can see Akeno toying around with her sword - removing it from the sheathe and admiring herself in the reflective steel. Fury wells within Satsuki’s throat as she steps forward, preparing to channel the same conviction she’d been chided on before…


“G-give that back!” she cries; her voice cracking. Even she’s surprised with how weakly her voice came out, causing her to snap her hands bashfully over her lips.


Akeno chuckles, sliding the sword back into place. “I’ll admit, I’m jealous - it looks like an awfully nice replica of Lady Satsuki’s. Couldn’t imagine why someone like you would have a better one than mine…” She slowly trails off, holding one hand over her mouth. She holds it outward, vertically and well within Satsuki’s reach. “If you want it back, then take it.”


That challenge was all she needed. Even as she felt her drive and motivation whittling away, she channeled the all that remained to spur her forward. She broke into a sprint, running toward Akeno. She stumbles as she runs - not used to moving at such a gait - but she regains her composure as she closes in on the two-star. She feints to the right, reaches with the left…


And Akeno turns the blade horizontally, taking one step off to the side. Even such a simple motion sends Satsuki careening forward, unable to stop herself, and causing her to fall flat on her chest again. “Damn it!” she yelps. She rolls onto her back, then stands up. Beads of sweat had already begun to roll down her face, and her hair - already quite dishevelled - somehow managed to get even further mussed-up through her struggles.


Akeno chuckles at her, wobbling the sword up and down. “Was that it? she teases. Satsuki struggles up again, and charges the two-star once more. This time, she leaps as she comes close… Only for Akeno to raise it just out of her grasp.


“No!” she balks, staggering as she lands, but remaining upward. She whirls around and leaps again… Only for it to likewise be pulled from her grip. “Stop!” she shouts. Eventually, the charging had grown so exhausting that she simply settled on jumping after the blade - a pitiful look on her face as her pudgy fingers feebly bat the air beneath it. Eventually, as she comes down, she hunches downward, bracing herself on her knees. She pants and huffs, all while Akeno keeps the weapon aloft.


The boisterous club president titters as she steps back, lowering the weapon just a tad. “Is that it, then? Now you’re giving up?” Satsuki glares at her from beneath her bangs.


“Nuh-... Huh… Huff… No. Never!” she asserts. She takes a step forward; and Akeno a step back. 


“Mmmh… Well, as much as I’d love to relish this - I’ve got more important things to do than waste all day with a weakling like you.” She turns around, carrying the blade with her.


Satsuki staggers after her. “Wait!” she yelps, causing Akeno to pause - and another band of fabric to lash out from her gauntlet. This one wraps itself around Satsuki’s throat - harshly enough for her to feel it; but gently enough not to choke her. It binds itself in a neat little collar; tied back to Akeno. 


She looks over her shoulder, smirking. “And you’re coming with me. A delinquent like you needs a lesson in discipline - and I’ve got the perfect idea for it. And once we’re done… I’ll consider giving you your toy back.”
Satsuki looked begrudgingly over her shoulder at the hall behind her; feeling the collar tug her away from the sewing club. By now, she was almost thankful that she didn’t have to face them in this state - to say nothing of her… Collar, she was an absolute mess. She could feel her uniform sticking to her - and… In sheer defiance of sensibility, she could feel a defined wetness between her legs. Her fingers curled around the fabric around her throat; trying to loosen it - but, to no avail. She was led deeper and deeper through the halls - down into an even lower level of the school. 


Whereas the upper echelon of the school was populated almost exclusively with Satsuki’s most trusted students - namely; the Elite Four and the sewing club, along with a handful of two-stars from high-ranking clubs, this level seemed to be a little more… Open. As a result - considerably more populous. Every so often, she’d pass a one-star or another two-star, and appropriately avert her eyes. Being led around on a leash didn’t exactly give her much of a reason to interact with anybody. What’s more - she figured they’d have the same view of her as Akeno; fervor or no. They were students with life fiber uniforms - and as far as they knew; she wasn’t. 


Eventually Akeno stopped at a door; and Satsuki could feel her fabric leash being retracted into her gauntlet. “We’re here.” she asserts, throwing the door open. Satsuki tentatively followed her inward… And paled at the sight of the room within. 


The room itself clearly wasn’t a typical classroom - rather; it was more akin to a lecture hall. Hemispherical in structure, a large stage sat on the far end, with two stairways leading down through several rows of seating - populated by dozens of students. Satsuki audibly simpered and held her hands over her exposed stomach as Akeno walked toward the stage, beckoning for Satsuki to follow. She could feel the gazes of the students burning into her back as she found herself drawing an audience - the breadth of which was clear when she finally walked up onto the stage. Akeno took a place behind a lectern, with Satsuki slowly inching behind her as she began to speak. 


“Sorry I’m late,” she begins; her voice booming across the room. “but this little nobody demanded my attention.” She nudges Satsuki away from her; out into a more open part of the stage. She can hear murmuring rise among the other students. Her hands tentatively moved over her body - to cover her stomach, to keep her skirt down, to cover her broad nipples; poking their way against her top - but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything - so instead she simply kept quiet. “And because of that, she’ll be taking care of the grunt work for this meeting. So, rejoice! Now you can all dedicate a few minutes more to memorizing this meeting’s speech.”


A bemoaning voice among the crowd rose above the rest. “Another one of Satsuki’s, I bet.”


Akeno slammed a hand on the lectern. “Shut it! Only when you master the intricate usage of rhetoric and ideological appeal she packs into her speeches will you truly be ready to take the stage for a debate!” she shrilly orders. She takes a few firm steps back from the lectern and glares at Satsuki. “You!” 


Satsuki stiffens. She’d been so consumed by her self-consciousness that she hadn’t noticed Akeno looking at her. She points to the rear of the broad lectern; into a small cabinet within it. Inside was a rather tall stack of papers. 


“Pass those around to the club.” Satsuki opens her mouth to respond, but Akeno snaps. “Now, delinquent!” For emphasis, she brings the sheath of Satsuki’s sword down upon the stage; evoking a harsh clap - one Satsuki wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of. As much as she hated to say it… The only way she’d get even the slightest chance of recovering her blade was if she played along. Even so, it was only a chance… But, she’d left her room with the intent on taking a gamble, hadn’t she? She wears a bitter grimace as she leans down and grabs the papers, stepping down from the stage and starting up one of the staircases between the seats.


As she made her way up and down the staircases, Satsuki wobbled; already fatigued from her prior exertion, and now balancing with a large - if diminishing - stack of papers in her hands. Even worse; with her hands full, she had no way to brush aside her bangs - so every so often she’d stop and try to blow them out of her line of sight. She didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse that the students ignored her as she made her rounds - on one hand, nobody particularly addressed her presence. On the other… She still managed to be a topic of conversation. 


“I don’t get why she’s so fixated on Satsuki.” one of the club members murmured. Satsuki’s ears perked, and she couldn’t help but linger around the row, taking her time in passing the speeches - one of her longer ones - among the students. “She runs the place and all, but… Does she really?” 


“I getcha.” a male student chimes in. “I mean - I wouldn’t step up to her or anything, but… Where’s she been? Used to see her every day.”


“Yeah, and I don’t even get any big brother vibes. Sure, Gamagoori’s still making the rounds, but… It doesn’t feel like she’s watching. Or listening.” She shrugs. “Or caring.” The student holds up the speech when a paper finally arrives for her. “Besides, these aren’t even that good.”


“Hey!”


All eyes snap to the club president; whose eyes were locked on Satsuki. “Get a move on, we don’t have all day!”


The intimidated woman nods, quickly picking up the pace; and leaving the conversing students behind. This day… Felt like all of her worst anticipations had come true. The rank-and-file were turning away from her. Even if the more dutiful students had yet to… Defect, as it were, their loyalty wasn’t doing her any favors. Eventually her work was done - and she was left sweaty and out of breath as she returned to the stage. Akeno seemed to notice that she was done - and so began the club meeting. Satsuki had hoped to get her sword beforehand… But, she was forced to sit back and wait for the meeting to end.


The students hollowly parroted her words; with progressively less passion from the club and more… Misguided extrapolation from its president. It had become clear to Satsuki, as she stood behind the lectern and behind Akeno, that bands of fabric crisscrossed the floor; all seeming to tie back to Akeno’s gauntlets. If nothing else, she supposed that was how the two-star managed to keep a captive audience. Two hours marched on, and Satsuki felt as though she’d faded into the background. For as much as her name was addressed - her presence wasn’t registered in the slightest. 


Eventually, Akeno slammed her hand on the lectern and shouted “Dismissed!” The sound of whirring was broadcast through the hall’s speakers as fabric retracted back into her gauntlets - and a good portion of the students hastily made their way to the door as soon as they were released. “We’ll be meeting next week, and we won’t have someone to do the grunt work for us, so prepare accordingly!” she asserts.


Eventually, her gauntlets clicked when all the fabric had been recovered. She’d kept one hand on Satsuki’s sword for the entirety of the meeting - and once it was through, she began to make her way off the stage. 


“H-hey!” Satsuki called; barely audible over the din of the fleeing students. Akeno stopped and turned, tilting her head. 


“Oh. You’re still here.” she murmurs, scratching her head. She looks down to the sword in her hand, then leers back at Satsuki. “Mmh. I suppose you’ll be wanting this back, then?”


Satsuki’s brow furrowed as she approaches Akeno. “Th-that was the deal. So, can I-” 


“No,” Akeno stops her. “there was never a deal. I recall saying I’d consider giving it back. Even then...” She looks at the sword longingly. “You took your sweet time helping out. I don’t think it’d be an exaggeration to say you kept us almost a half an hour over our allotted time. Honorable students like us have busy schedules, you know.”


Satsuki gulps. “No- I…” she bites her lower lip. “I’m sorry.” The words come sickeningly naturally to her lips as she lumbers forward. “I was doing my b-best…” 


The club president turns a hand up. “I’m sure you were.” she says patronizingly. “But, if you learned nothing from our prior encounter… It’s that your best simply isn’t good enough.” A wry grin spreads across her lips as she holds the sword aloft. “But I suppose I’m nothing if not generous. I will give it back - but…” She brings the sword down to the ground again, with a harsh clap. “You’ll have to beg for it.” The sadistic glee in her voice is tangible, causing Satsuki to shudder.


Perhaps she was quick to comply, but… She supposed that after the events of the day, she might’ve been a little numb to humiliation. “O-okay.” she begins, rubbing the back of her head. “Please-”


“On your knees.” Akeno orders. Satsuki shoots her a curious glance, to which Akeno simply repeats herself. “On your knees.”


Perhaps Satsuki was getting a little too used to the humiliation - but even now, the two-star student was pushing it. Satsuki lowers herself onto her knees, clearing her throat. “Okay - please…”


Akeno scoffs. “Bow your head.” 


“But-”


“Has anyone taught you how to beg before? Bow your head.” She taps the sheath twice before Satsuki. “Hands here and here. It’s only proper.” 


By now, Satsuki’s face was fuming red. She shuts her eyes and bows, feeling a considerable draft from behind her as her skirt is flipped upward. “Okay.” she says firmly. “Please, Akeno…” Akeno clears her throat. “Fugi…” She clears her throat again, and Satsuki pauses, unsure. “Senpai…?” No response from Akeno. Satsuki simpers. “Please, I’d ask you to return my sword. Though I don’t deserve it, I beseech your generosity in asking you to bestow upon me that which I do not deserve.” 


Akeno pauses. “And thank me for teaching you how to beg.” she says, hardly able to contain a snicker.


“... Thank you for teaching me how to beg.”


When Satsuki raises her head from the floor, she finds herself staring down the sheathe of her sword. “Take it.” Akeno orders. Wasting no time, Satsuki reclaims her sword, holding it close to her chest as though fearful it’d be taken from her again. “No need to thank me - the begging was definitely enough.” The club president struts away, and Satsuki is left on her knees, clutching her sword. 


Akeno… That bitch, she thinks. As one pudgy hand wraps around the handle, the fury which she’d been deprived of through this whole, terrible experience seems to rush into her. She gets back onto her feet and glares daggers at the club president’s back. For the first time in ages, she draws her blade; jerking the sheathe rhythmically to force its length out - unable to do so smoothly. 


“Hey!” she shouts back at the two-star, her voice furious and confident.


Visibly, Akeno seems to stiffen. “Lady Satsuki?” She whips around, only to see… Satsuki; pointing her drawn blade back at her. Immediately, the look of shock on her face melts into one of disappointment. “Oh.” she grumbles. “Were you trying to taunt me with that little impression? Catch me off guard and…” She points at the sword. “Poke me with that little thing?” She rolls her eyes. “Maybe you haven’t learned your lesson after all.”


Satsuki flourishes her blade and advances. “I suppose not.” she growls. “I hope you’re prepared for one of your own.” 


Akeno chuckles. “Feeling confident, then? That must be a first, no-star.” She spreads her arms. “Well then - let’s see how good your little toy does you. Come at me!” 


Needing no other invitation than this, Satsuki drops her sheath, gripping her sword with both hands. She bolts forward, preparing to charge the club president; damn-near ready to cleave her in two. Her eyes are locked on the snide look on the bespectacled woman’s face…


So much so that she misses the band of fabric waiting at ankle-height.





Morning at Honnouji Academy.


The sun had just begun to crest over the horizon; the sky cast in brilliant shades of orange and bloody shades of red. Sunlight sits at the backdrop of the academy itself; transforming the proud school into an imposing silhouette rising above the rest of the city. Students made the perilous trek up the hill to arrive early for school; filtering slowly through the main gates. While it could seldom be said that any day at Honnouji was a normal one - this day seemed to begin… Exceptionally.


“Help!” a ragged, shrill voice cries. “Somebody! L-let me down! Please!”


Suspended in the star-shaped tunnel that composed the main gate was a web of fabric; its ends bolted into the surrounding stone, and centered around a struggling mass. Satsuki sat entwined in the fabric; everything from her hips up to her shoulders held fast by it. Worse still - she was hanging upside-down. Her long and unruly black hair streamed downward, giving others an unimpeded look at her face; and her an unimpeded look at her onlookers. Her legs kicked in the air, and she struggled against the fabric to no avail. Her skirt was entirely inverted; falling over her fabric-covered midriff and exposing her rather plain underwear for all to see.


“Please! I’ve been up here all morning, I can’t take any more!” She’d begun the morning proudly - sure that somebody would cut her down… But as students marched by - ignoring her or simply laughing at her predicament, she began to grow panicked. Worst of all; nobody who was aware of her situation was aware she’d even left her room in the first place - and by now that’d be downright uncharacteristic.


Her legs continue to kick; so frantically that one of her flats up and flies off. “I said I’m sorry! Akeno, just let me doooown!”


“I’ll help ya down, shorty.”


Satsuki looks deliriously downward, narrowing her eyes at the darkly-dressed figure below. “Oh no.” she groans. “No, n-no, you don’t have to-”


Down below, Ryuko snickers. “‘Kay then. Have fun up there.” Ryuko continues onward, down the passageway.


“Wait! Hey, no, I didn’t mean! Ryuko! Get back here! Please!” Satsuki’s shouts echo around the long tunnel - she’s sure Ryuko could hear them; but she doubts the delinquent cares. Her body goes limp in her bondage, and she sighs. This was going to be a long day.


