/jp/ - Otaku Culture

'member Janet?

>>23419555
Angela swept the halls of the old school building with short relaxed strokes. Her tired eyes, wrapped in crows feet and weighed down by black bags, were glazed over as she recalled the days when she was a fresh graduate. In her hands was an old straw broom. Once standard issue upon enrolling, the broom's handle was smoothed down to a shine, and the haft was wrapped in worn bandages and woodglue. Sections of the broom were worn so thin that they'd gone pale from the years of practiced habits for posture and grip style. The palest of these spots was the very tip of the handle for it was there she would rest her hands and head while she dreamed. After thirteen years one could see the worn impressions of her fingers. In her eyes she saw a faceless man in a fine suit, his skin wreathed in shadow. Clinging to his leg she saw a small girl dressed in a well ironed uniform. Her face too was cloaked in smoke.

>Wel...h...th.....d....o...j....ch...de

The child's syrupy voice made barely a scratch on her ear drums. The man sounded like the cracks of burning coals.

>I....s....g..e.......

The longer she watched the scene the heavier her eyelids felt. She dug her talons into the wood and frowned as the ghostly figures began to walk away.

>Angela.

She snapped a gust of air from her nostrils and whipped her head to the left. Headmistress Gwendolyn was tall standing at 6 and a half feet. Her imposing form was exacerbated by a pair of crimson lances that skewered whoever had the misfortune to endure her gaze. In her hands was a riding crop she'd wound tight between her bony fingers. Crushing her wrinkled brow was a dark blue beret and in place of a maid's uniform were black fatigues tailored down to a stich. Angela didn't greet her, instead locking eyes with the towering woman while her head still rested atop the broom. Then she noticed the young man next to the headmistress. She jumped into action as she greeted the man.

>Hello sir, er, Good morning, ma'am! Is there something needed of me?

Angela burst into a fit, dusting off her uniform and standing ram rod straight to best present herself.

The headmistress gave her a wry smile.

>Yes, Angela, this here is Mr. Mous, he's in the market for a maid. Mr. Mous this is Angela, she's one of our senior graduates.

>Senior graduate?

>Yes, some of our students choose to stay at the academy to assist with the instruction of the others while they seek employment themselves.

>Ah, so you're a teacher?

>Of sorts, yes. I haven't actually served in the field long enough to be a full instructor.

>I see, well then. I'm sure you'd be able to better tell me about the students since you've worked with them.

Angela felt her eyes slink into the back of her skull. She turned her attention to the headmistress. Her smile was stapled in place. Angela was handled a folder of dossiers.

>I'm going to need you to gather up the students in this folder. Mr. Mous would like to interview them for prospective employment.

>Of course Ma'am.

She opened the folder and flipped through the papers. Inside were the profiles of seven girls. Two of them were kikis, the other five consisted of a hellhound, jinko, holstaur, lamia, and a rat. The man pointed to the holstaur and began to ask questions about her habits. Angela answered to the best of her ability, making sure to highlight each girl's strengths and dismissed their weaknesses. All of them were fresh graduates, barely into their first month of senior work. After answering all his questions, Angela set about gathering the students to be interviewed. She looked them over in quiet disgust. Their uniforms were a mess, poorly ironed, loose hairs and fuzz all over the place. Their fancy carbon fiber brooms were so poorly maintained that she became nauseous at the sight if them. Lint clogging up the bristles, filthy, unpolished handles that were scratched to hell by their claws thanks to poor technique. So after cleaning their brooms and scrubbing each of them with a lint roller until it started to peel off skin, she had them all lined up in the dojo for the interviews. The first portion consisted of a demonsatration of their capabilities in the form of a broom kata. First up was the jinko, Angela remembered her well having served as an examiner on the board for the final exams. With powerful strokes she recreated the same kata she'd performed for her final exam. It wasn't anything special, but there were clear signs of practice. She didn't mind it too much, but there was a great deal of room for improvement. The kikis were as she expected, they both chose an advanced kata and performed adequately, however their lack of experience showed in their execution. The rest performed with varying degrees of sloppiness and Angela surpressed her urge to correct them. Then came that damn hellhound.

When a Kiki has a lazy as fuck master and her patience ran out