Between seething rage and invigoration with her Kitsunes, Kiko took the next week by storm. She learned biology of the beasts she was hunting, took extra lessons with Queenie - mostly to glare at her, partially to get a better physique - and fit in an hour's session in the range each day. Recruits didn't have standard firearm training till their fourth week, but Bruyn accepted anyone with the desire to get a headstart. Using the fact she woke up with vim and vigor every day, Kiko pushed harder than most would be able to, having a competitive desire to beat Queenie and put her in a damn maid uniform.

There was a ten week basic course of recruits, and then a series of tests where you were marked and scored based on your aptitudes. Kiko got hold of the numbers needed and looked them over with fascinating. There was a low celling to enter the Standardized Foot Teams, and then varying numbers to join the rest of the Specialist Squads. Bruyn was serious about the fact that the Rifles were the best shots in SIR. The Marksmanship test needed to be passed with a 96/100, though Bruyn would offer three weeks of personal tutorship and then a retrial if you managed to score at least a 90.

Such was not offered by the Colonel, who has her own group called the Ten Blades. Apprentices directly under them were called the Sheaths, and required very high scores in Marksmanship, Physical Aptitude, Close Quarter Combat, Mental Aptitude, and Combined Arms. It seemed impossible to Kiko for a person to reach all the marks required in just ten weeks.

The first week was to get everyone oriented and settled into what they were doing. But the second week had a day off because it was unhealthy to go hard all day every day. Recruits were allowed town leave on specific days, to avoid the entire swarm descending upon the town and once and causing a ruckus. So on the fifth of the weeks nine days, Kiko and some other recruits were allowed out into the town. She had not particularly made any close friends, so went off to do her own thing.

Though, what that thing was, was the question. Food was good on base, so she didn't need to grab anything like that. She didn't particularly drink either, so no pub crawling. It occured to her at this moment that she didn't have many hobbies, beyond being at school, working out, and making dinner for herself...Eventually she decided to drop by her old gym and see how the boss was doing.

But before managing to get there, she passed a woman flanked by two men. There was something about the look on her face that raised an eyebrow. She let them go past and then turned and began to subtly follow them as they took the woman out of the town square and into a

and into a car park. Meeting up with two more men there, Kiko bit her lip. Four on one was poor odds, she should call someone to get help. But if she waited, then they would be gone. As the men threw the woman into the van, Kiko broke into a sprint, rushing in and smashing one of the men's heads against the van before they could react to her presence.

She'd smelt blood before. She'd spilt blood before. But now? It was...intoxicating. She felt her body light up, on fire. Her tail came out unbidden and seemed to bulk up her body with an unknown power. There were cries of alarm around her, screams of the civilians and roars of the men, but Kiko didn't really hear them. All she could hear, all she could feel, was the rush. The need. All she could hear, all she could feel, was the rush. The need. The second man was blinded by Kiko as she raked her nails across his face, and the third had half his teeth knocked out and his nose broken when she countered his mad rush with her fist in his face.

The final of their number was the strongest. She slugged him across the face and he knocked her right back. Blows being traded back and forth as Kiko got more violent, more aggressive. Eventually shattering the man's jaw and splattering blood all over herself as the man inadvertently ripped his tongue open. In retaliation, he sunk a knife deep into her shoulder, though it did little to her, she simply grabbed his stabbing arm, shattered the forearm, and drove the heel of her palm into his chest, cracking bone and knocking him to the ground where he stayed.

With the men dealt with, Kiko would open the van door and look at the woman inside. Expecting some sort of amazement or relief, she simply saw terror in the woman's eyes. The terror knocked Kiko out of her haze and had her stumble back into another car, which set off the alarm and had Kiko running out of the park, away from the noise.

The run was staggered, undirected, and confused. Though perhaps unconsciously, she arrived at the SIR building, and certainly got a reception. Covered in blood, face bruised and battered, a knife sticking out of her shoulder. The world was ringing by this point, slowly tilting on an axis that she could hardly keep her balance on. The ring became louder, omnipresent, and then finally Kiko's eyes rolled up into her head and she passed out as the adrenal crash hit her hard.