[FFML] [Fic][Rnma.5][Inu-Yasha][Marvel] Defending 03

[David Dee]

And now, I present to you, chapter 3 of Defending, my
own little attempt at adding to DB Sommer's Avenging
universe. Once again, please don't sue--this call
goes out to Rumiko Takashi, Stan Lee, Roy Thomas and
Fujishima Kosuke, among many, many others.

And to review--last chapter (which is the one where I
didn't put the title up in the heading--oops) Hikaru
came back to Japan with the task of protecting the
world from demonic invasions, dimensional
instabilities, and other unpleasantness. To do so, he
decided to pose as a superhero (choosing the name Dr.
Strange), thinking that this would make his job
easier. However on his first night out, he bumped
into bush-league superheroes Hellcat (aka Kagome
Dageru) and Son of Satan (aka Inu Yasha). This has
had side effects on the young magician, which will be
explored slightly.

-----
Ritsuko Fuchuu (Ritschan to her friends) had
seen an awful lot of strange things over the
years, working for Akamatsu Industries,
Limited (Motto: We'll Build Your Doomsday
Device—No Questions Asked!). Some
were funny, like when Akamatsu got drunk,
and started sing "Diamonds are a Girl's Best
Friend". Some were terrifying, like when he
started to perform a striptease halfway through.
And some were simply weird, like when he'd
begun to do a fan dance...

It was hard to figure out where being accosted
in an alleyway by a pair of effeminate young
men dressed in what looked like school uniforms
gone bad went.

"Your life energy or your life!" shouted the slightly
more masculine one with pale white hair.

"We mean it!" said the more effeminate one
with brown hair (the one who may have been
on closer examination, a woman). Both were
pointing an item at her that looked vaguely like
a gun, if it had been designed by someone who
had been trying to create one based on secondhand
reports, and a rather specious knowledge of physics.

Ritschan blinked. "Urr—if I give you my life
energy won't I die?"

The white-haired one thought that over for a
moment. "Well—yes. More or less."

"So what's the incentive for me here?" asked
Ritschan. "If I'm gonna die no matter what, why
should I do what you say?"

Her attackers looked at each other nervously.
Finally, the brunette gave a long, exasperated sigh.
"Look, we're pretty new at this..." he (or she)
stated.

"Right," said the white-haired one. "We're still
ironing out our methods..."

Ritschan stared at the two. "Who are you?"

The white-haired one gave her a smug grin.
"I am Malachite, Master Strategist of the Negaverse!"

"And I am Zoisite, his common law companion in arms!"
declared the brunette.

Malachite threw back his head and laughed. "So
surrender now to—THE DARK LIEUTENANTS
OF THE NEGAVERSE!"

"Hey, I've heard of you!" said Ritschan cheerily.
"You guys go around fighting all the magic girls...
Pretty Sammy...an' Chacha... an' Saint Tail...
an' Kamikaze Kaitou —"

"Look, I'd rather you didn't recite the names of
every damn one of our dire enemies..." said Malachite
peevishly. "It's irritating."

"I thought you guys were the Dark Generals, though..."

she continued, ignoring him. "And don't you have
those youkai servant things...?"

Malachite and Zoisite glanced at each other in
acute embarrassment. "We've been demoted,"
stated Zoisite tersely.

"There's been a change in management," mumbled
Malachite. "He—isn't too happy with our low success
rate..."

"That BASTARD Annhilus has left us to fend for
ourselves!" shouted Zoisite.

"Zoisite!" corrected Malachite. "The Emperor might
hear you..."

"Oh, like he gives a damn what we do!" said Zoisite
bitterly. "Face it honey, he's tossed us to the curb
and now he's just waiting for the trucks to collect
us.
We're on our own." He (or she) glanced at Malachite
pointedly. "Read her that damn letter!"

Malachite sighed. "I don't see what the point is..."

"They've got to see how we've suffered!" spat out
Zoisite. "Read the letter."

"Fine." Malachite yanked a scroll out of his sleeves.
" 'To the imbecilic bumblers it is my misfortune to
call slaves'..."

"That's his pet nickname for us," interjected Zoisite.

" 'Hereby the practice of giving nega-energy to
create youkai is ceased, for the reason that is
has been pointed out to us by our consort,
the Lady Blastaar, formerly klept to you by the
name 'Queen Beryl', that such beings seem to
exist primarily to be beaten in combat by leggy
young women using hearts and love as weapons,
which we find most damaging to our imperial
dignity. Henceforth my Lieutenants shall battle
their opponents by themselves, and triumph
or fall by the strength of their own arms.
Annhilus decrees it!' "

"So you see what we're dealing with?"
moaned Zoisite.

"We tried to start vast combat with
our foes, but they kept beating us!"
wailed Malachite. "We're on our
last ropes!"

"It sounds pretty bad..." agreed
Ritschan.

"Well," said Malachite, pressing
her against the wall, "It will all get
better once we take your life energy!
I'm sure of it!"

"Not so fast," said a cool confident voice.

The pair turned just in time to be bowled over
by a swift-moving, black and purple blur.
Malachite managed—barely—to get himself
balanced. "Who...?"

The young man who positioned himself
before Ritschan was clad in the robes
of a Buddhist monk, dyed black and
purple. In his hands was a well-crafted
staff, rings jingling on its head. He was
handsome, in a rather rakish, cavalier
way. "Stand back, vile curs! No flower
of womanhood will ever be harmed on
the watch of Miroku, THE DEVIL SLAYER!"
He twirled his staff menacingly.

"Oh no!" shouted Zoisite. "Not Miroku, the
Devil Slayer, whose dashing ways and
awesome skills have made him the nemesis
of evil beings everywhere!"

Miroku laughed. "That's right."

Zoisite glanced him over. "You're much
shorter than I pictured you."

A slight frown came over Miroku's rakish
face, following which he tripped Zoisite
with his staff.

"Oh, hell," muttered Malachite. He raised
his pistol. "I'll shoot! Believe me, I will!"

The Devil Slayer smashed his weapon out
of his hands. Malachite watched dully as
it fell to the ground, then glanced back at
Miroku. "Not in the face," he said weakly.

Miroku struck him solidly in the solar
plexus, no doubt due to some unwritten
law of superheroic decency.

Ritschan eyed her savior appreciatively.
"I...wow." She laughed. "Thanks. That
was—amazing."

Miroku bowed. "Thank you, fair maiden."
He stepped forward and kissed her hand.
"And now lady, I have a great favor to
ask you—would you be the mother of
my child?"

Ritschan's response was immediate. "I
have mace," she stated calmly.

Miroku backed away. "Understood."

Ritschan nodded, then walked away. She
didn't know what quite to think about
what had happened to her, but she
thought it could have gone worse.

It was some time later that she realized
her purse was missing.

-----

Miroku sighed, as he rooted through
the lady's purse. It was always
disappointing when his efforts to sire
an heir to his illustrious line were stymied,
especially by the allegedly grateful
beneficiaries of his heroics. Still, he had
gotten some assistance from this one.
He considered it payment for services
rendered.

Malachite rose unsteadily, glaring at
Miroku. "That hurt!" he whined.

Miroku shrugged. "It had to look real."

Zoisite glanced at Miroku, mildly amused,
while brushing himself off. (Miroku was
reasonably certain Zoisite was in fact, a
male.) "I don't seem to recall you offering
to take hits for the cause."

Miroku smiled benignly. "I do seem to recall
being the one who actually lifts the purse."
He handed them each a fistful of yen. "Here's
your share then."

Malachite sighed. "To think a pair of
Dark Generals driven to this..."

Miroku gave Malachite a reproachful
glance. "You seemed happy when I
offered you this position..."

Zoisite chuckled. "Just ignore Malachite,
Miroku—he's always been a bitch. He
knows as well as I do it's this or starving
in the streets."

Malachite snorted. "Actually I don't."
He looked at Zoisite pointedly. "We
could have just killed the girl, and
taken the money ourselves..."

"And have been immediately hunted
down by the police," replied Zoisite.
"I think I'll stick with Miroku's way..."

Malachite growled, and walked off,
muttering about "backstabbers" and
"brownnoses". Zoisite began to follow
him, but paused a moment to glance
at Miroku. "That was a flower of
womanhood?"

"Flattery," stated Miroku flatly,
" will get you everywhere."

"Hmm," said Zoisite thoughtfully.
"It seems to get you nowhere, but
then, what do I know...?"

Miroku considered his services to consist
of easing people's mind by giving them
a concrete example of good triumphing
over evil. Which it did, as Miroku kept
checkbooks and credit cards for himself.

Walking out into the street, Miroku glanced
at a large moving truck that was bringing
office supplies into that new business that
was opening up across the road. At midnight.

Well, Miroku had to say this for them—they
had interesting scheduling practices.

As he watched the vaguely distorted workers
move their loads into the building a sense
of unease grew in Miroku. While a normal
person could afford to ignore such feelings,
Miroku, a mystically taught Buddhist monk
cursed at birth, displaced in time, and
generally having a pretty strange go of it,
could not. They were correct, more often
than not. Something about this business was
wrong. No, it wasn't wrong—it was
*WRONG*. This was situation that would
require immediate looking into.

Tomorrow. Or the day after that. Right now,
Miroku was going to go back to his motel
room, and enjoy its plentiful supply of
pornographic movies, while he practiced
forging Ritsuko Fuchuu's signature.

-----

Defending

Chapter 3—"Friend of the Devil-Slayer"

An "Avenging" Universe Spinoff

By David Dee

-----

The Emissaries of Evil were busily explaining
their employer's insurance policy to a client.

Of course as the Emissaries of Evil were
criminals, the insurance policy they were
selling was far better than one you'd receive
from a legitimate company. When a criminal
sells you an insurance policy it is absolutely
certain that the disaster he's selling it for will
occur if you don't pay.

The Emissaries of Evil were stressing this point.

"You know," said Rei, the group's field leader,
"Egghead doesn't like to be let down..."

"I'm very sorry sir," muttered the storekeeper.

"With the Emissaries of Evil, you don't get
sorry," whispered Shin. "What you get is
hospital bills if we don't get paid."

"Do you want a demonstration?" asked
Gai, the most violent of the four enforcers.

"Yeah, 'cause we can do that!" said Gou,
his voice subtly muffled by his faceplate.

"See?" laughed Rei. A man did not become
an enforcer at his young age without a damn
terrifying laugh. "The general opinion in this
room is you should pay up..."

The shopkeeper was not a brave man, but
he considered that a better option than being
a brave corpse. He began to get them the
money.

That was when the whistling started. It was
shrill, slightly off-key, and had a quality that
caused your teeth to chatter in your skull. Rei
glanced at the others. Criminals are, as a rule,
rather uneasy at having a protection shakedown
being observed, as witnesses rarely grasp the
subtle nuances of the deal. "Shin. Gai. Go
outside. See who it is."

The pair nodded and head out.

Gou glanced at Rei, clearly offended.
"How come you always send them out
first?"

Rei froze for a second. This would take
some thought. "Because you're the only
one I trust to guard me."

"Oh. Thanks, Rei!"

Rei breathed a sigh of relief.

Gai returned. "Umm, guys—
you should see this..." They followed
him out.

There, on the side of a building, a young
man in a red cape stood whistling.

This was far more disconcerting than it
sounded, as he was quite literally standing
on the side of the building, as if it were
the ground, while gravity failed to have
the least effect on him.

The Emissaries stared at him awhile. Finally,
Rei coughed. "Um—excuse me—what
are you doing...?"

The young man turned to look at him. His
face was astonishingly pale, and rather strikingly
ugly. He shrugged with almost suspicious
casualness. "I'm out for a walk."

Rei glanced away. The longer you looked at
the young man, the more you got the horrible
feeling that you were the one in defiance of the
laws of physics. "On the side of a building?"
asked Rei forcefully.

This resulted in another shrug. "It's the
only way to beat the smog, really." The
boy gave a mild laugh. "Can you believe
they're selling air now? I mean—air. Sad,
isn't it?"

Gou scratched his head—or tried to, the
large metal helmet getting in the way. "Are
you a superhero?"

The young man snapped his fingers in
apparent frustration. "Damn. You had to
ask that question." He sighed. "Yes. Yes.
I am." And with that he leapt off from the
wall, floating down with eerie grace. He
glanced at the Emissaries confidently. "So
I guess now comes the part with all the
screaming, and the yelling, and the cries of
mercy, and the passing out?" He looked around
distractedly. "Could you promise not bleed on
me too much? I'm finding the dry cleaning bills
horrendous."

Rei stared at him. "Do you realize who we are,
idiot?"

His opponent scratched his chin in thought.
"An all-male Judy Garland impersonation
group that's turned to evil?"

Rei frowned. "No!"

"Oh," said the superhero in resignation.
"Liza impersonators, then?"

"NO!" shouted Rei, offended.

Now he seemed puzzled. "Don't tell me
you're not all male?"

It was at that point that Gai lost his temper.
"We are the Emissaries of Evil, you fool!"

"Gosh," laughed the hero bashfully. "That
was going to be my next guess! Boy, I'm
bad at these things..."

"Shut up!" shouted Gai. "You have no
idea who you're dealing with! Well, we
will tell you!"

The young man nodded. "Right, right.
And then we'll get on to the part with
all the screaming, and the yelling, and
the cries of mercy, and the passing out..."

Gai raised his hands, revealing gauntlets
with buzzsaws built into them. "I am the
Gladiator! Master warrior, and assassin!"

"Because power tools just scream
ancient Roman ritual warrior..." muttered
the young man.

"Quiet!" screamed Gai.

Shin threw off his cloak, and flexed
his muscles, revealing the greyish
bodysuit underneath it. "And I am—
Rhino! I have the strength and the
charging power—of a rhino!"

Rei summoned a solar flare at
the tips of his fingertips. "I am
their leader, Solarr—the solar-
powered man!"

Gou stepped forward, and
started up his suit's power cells.
An eerie blue glow covered him.
"And I am Cobalt Man. The—
well, cobalt powered man..."

The man nodded. "Took you a
while to come up with those names,
didn't it? I bet you strained your minds
and stayed up the entire night, trying to
think of something that conveyed the
awesome spectacle of might that is you..."

Rei snarled. "Listen you—laugh all
you want...you're outnumbered four
to one!"

The young man smiled slightly.
"But don't you want to know who
I am...?" He spread his hands, and
waved them menacingly. "I am...
DR. STRANGE!" There was a peal
of thunder, which was quite unusual
when you considered that there were
no clouds out at the moment. "Master
of the Five Elements! Wielder of mystic
forces beyond the mortal ken! Guy
who can talk in a really florid manner,
and use lots of adjectives!" Dr. Strange
stared at them forcefully. "Can you say
these things as well? Can you even
understand them?" He smiled. "Please
respond. We'd be delighted to hear
from you."

"That's right!" shouted a female voice.
A young woman dressed in a cat costume
jumped out, and stood in front of Dr. Strange.
A young man in a red kimono with a pentacle
scrawled on it rushed after her. "And you were
wrong about the numbers! He isn't outnumbered
four to one! You're outnumbered three to four!"

The young man in the kimono looked puzzled.
"Umm—they still outnumber us, Kag—"

The woman kicked him in the shin. "What did
I tell you about using my name!" She crossed
her arms sulkily. "And I was bein' metaphorical..."

The young man rubbed his leg, and shouted at
her. "Well, you didn't have to kick me!"

"What are you two doing here?" Dr. Strange
asked, clearly furious.

"We're helping you on patrol!" answered the
young woman.

Dr. Strange began to rub his forehead.
"But I don't recall asking you for help on
this patrol. In fact, I don't even recall telling
you where I was." He stared at the girl
levelly. "So how do you know?"

She coughed awkwardly. "Well, we sorta—followed
you back to your house last night, and then we just—
kinda—waited for you head out tonight..."

"Okay," said Dr. Strange slowly. "We will discuss
this... later. Much later." He turned to the
Emissaries
of Evil. "So, introductions are in order. These are my

deranged stalkers, Hellcat and Son of Satan."

"Hey, she's the deranged one!" said Son of Satan.
"I ain't got no choice about things!"

"Umm, hi..." muttered Hellcat.

"Pleased to meet you!" stated Gou.

Rei slapped his forehead. "All right everyone—
stop wasting time—and ATTACK THESE
PEOPLE!"

Gou raised his arm, the bluish glow concentrating
at his hand. "Right. One radioactive charge on the
way." He laughed. "Prepare to face the power of
COBALT!"

Dr. Strange bolted forward, pushing Son of Satan
and Hellcat out of the way, and waved his hand.
The charge flickered and went out. Gou stared
forward, startled. "Wha—what happened?"

"I've convinced your cobalt a couple of hundred
years had passed. I recommend a change of name—
Lead Man, the lead powered man..."

Rei stared at Gou. "Well, at least you could charge
at them..."

Gou coughed. "Umm, Rei—this suit's propulsion
system runs on the same cobalt that the weapon's
system does... so I sort of can't move..."

Rei glared at Shin and Gai. "Well, what are you
waiting for? Attack you idiots!" The Emissaries
of Evil charged forward, while Dr. Strange and
the others backed away.

Gou however remained exactly where he was.

"Umm, guys—I've got an itch in my back..." He
coughed. "Guys...?" He coughed again. "Come
on guys! Please! This isn't funny!"

He'd shouted himself hoarse when the police came.

-----

"—And I'm just sayin' you didn't have to take
down that Rhino guy!" said Inu-Yasha resentfully.

"You hadn't beaten him yet," said Hikaru with
dull calm.

"But he was mine! I didn't go after your
two guys!" shouted Inu-Yasha.

"That might be because it took me three
minutes to beat both of them," said Hikaru.

Inu-Yasha glared at him. "Hey, you callin'
me weak!"

Hikaru sighed. "No—I'm saying that you
tend to drag your fights on a bit too long..."

"Hmmph. Just 'cause I enjoy a good scrap
is no reason fer you to steal my guys..."
muttered Inu-Yasha petulantly.

"I don't recall this being a competitive sport,"
replied Hikaru, just a touch of anger coming
into his voice.

Inu-Yasha growled slightly and glanced away.

"Well," said Kagome, questioningly, "I don't
see why we had to leave right after I called the
police. They're our allies in the fight against
crime!"

Hikaru stared at her for a short while. "Well, if
you want to explain to Tokyo's Finest what you
are doing in the early hours of the evening dressed
as a cat, be my guest. Just don't expect me to post
bail..."

Kagome frowned. "I'm certain they'd understand..."

Hikaru laughed agreeably. "Certainly. The police
are so tolerant of unusual behavior. Legendarily
so, in fact."

Kagome seemed slightly uncertain. "I suppose
we do have more evil to thwart..."

Hikaru nodded. "I knew you'd come around
to my way of thinking. Now come on, mes pards,
it's going to be a busy night—we have yet another
apocalypse to avert..." Hikaru sighed. A half week
into fighting demons, and he was already under
great strain.

And the demons were only a small part of that...

-----

Miroku sat in bed thinking things over. The
business that he'd seen a couple days ago
continued to plague his thoughts. He'd
actually walked by it several times in the
course of his affairs, but it hadn't shown the
slightest bit of activity. He should have felt
relieved, but his sense of unease had only
grown. Perhaps he should check the place out...

There was a knock on his door. Miroku, with
ninja-like agility and stealth, rolled off, then
underneath his bed. He waited for the latest
assault on his crusade against evil. Finally,
it came.

"Mr. Miroku—I know you're in there!" A
pause. "This is the manager. Look, I'm not
going to open the door this time, but next
time I will. Your bill is two weeks overdue,
and I can't wait much longer for it to be paid."
Another pause, after which the voice resumed
with increased warmth. "And stop ordering
movies, if you're not going to pay for them!
I mean, how many showings of 'Night Nurses
IV: Hootersville Hospital' can one man watch?!"

Miroku listened as the man turned around and
walked away, then shook his head. He received
so little credit for his selfless fight against the
forces of darkness. Which was another reason
to look into this business—there might be some
money in it, if not enough to pay his bill, then
enough to skip out and go to a new place.

Miroku flipped on the television. If his timing
was right he'd be able to see Nurses Hornee
and Feelgood teach frigid Miss Icy the joys of
loosening up. He took a deep breath. The immense
burdens he was under, as a defender of righteousness.

-----

Daisuke sat in the Furinkan High cafeteria, staring
at the most beautiful girl in the world.

Admittedly Sayuri might not make it into many
people's top ten list as far as beauty was concerned,
even though they'd admit she was easy on the eyes,
but Daisuke was sure this was due to a flaw in their
perceptions. Of course, if he'd been forced to think
on it, Daisuke would have to admit that his
perceptions had suffered a similar flaw until last
week, when Sayuri became the "it" girl of Furikan
High School, for the same mysterious reasons
that Charles Ponzi became the financial wizard of
Boston in the 1920s. But Daisuke was rarely forced
to think on things, which was probably a good thing,
as he wasn't that good at it.

Indeed, at the moment he was attempting that
operation with limited success. He was (he
realized this in a vague way) not extraordinarily
(or even ordinarily) attractive to women. Thus he
had no chance of getting in with Sayuri, as things
now stood.

This seemed to him a monstrous injustice, and
one that needed immediate rectification.

However, when he thought about it, Daisuke
realized he had very little idea how to do this.
A smarter man would have considered changing
something about himself, but Daisuke wasn't a
smarter man, so he chose a different route.

Politics. Or their high school equivalent.

Sayuri was a friend of Nabiki's. And Nabiki
was a friend of...

"Hikaru Gosunkugi?" said Hiroshi, puzzled.
"But why him...?"

Daisuke glared at him. Hiroshi was his best
friend, but simultaneously, he bugged the hell
out of Daisuke. A smarter man would have
mused on this matter, but once again, Daisuke
wasn't a smarter man.

"Because, he's the thing nobody is looking
to use—the secret pathway..." said Daisuke.
Plus, he owed Nabiki too much money to
even consider approaching her directly.

"Oh, like in a video game!" Hiroshi smiled,
immensely reassured. The conversation was
about things he understood again. "You know
the newest *Dead or Alive* game has the
hottest chicks..."

Daisuke frowned. "That is not important
right now..."

Hiroshi's voice lowered to a confidential
level. "I hear there's a naked code for it..."

Daisuke started. "Really? How's it wor...?"
He shook his head. "Oh, stop distracting me."
He glanced over at the table where Hikaru sat
by himself, flipping through some book. "My
foolproof plan is going into effect. I will befriend
Hikaru Gosunkugi, and then he'll put in a good
word for me with Nabiki, who will put in a good
word for me with Sayuri, who will then BE MINE!"

Hiroshi snorted. "My darling Sayuri would
never fall for such matters. My declaration
of love tonight is sure to win her heart." He
brought up a small plastic bag. "After I cover
her house in heart decorated toilet paper, she
is sure to conceive a burning passion for me!
And if that doesn't work, the pink shaving
cream in her mailbox will do the job!"

Daisuke stared at him. "Hiroshi, do all of your
declarations of love seem like childish pranks?"

Hiroshi turned away sulkily. "Only to eyes
clouded with hateful jealously."

"Oh, why am I wasting my time here?" muttered
Daisuke, standing up abruptly. He walked over
to Hikaru. Hikaru was flipping through his book,
and patently ignoring everything else in the room.
Daisuke stood next to him, and cleared his throat.

Hikaru continued to read his book.

Daisuke went "Psst!"

Hikaru continued to read his book.

Daisuke nudged him in the shoulder.

Hikaru continued to read his book.

Daisuke leaned forward, putting his face
between Hikaru and the book, and said, "Hi."

Hikaru put down his book, and glanced at
him, in a rather annoyed fashion. "Why, hello.
My goodness. Have you been standing there
all this time, and I didn't see you?" Hikaru's
voice seemed curiously flat. "How intolerably
rude of me." He glanced Daisuke over, an
uncertain flicker passing over his face. "Hiroshi,
right?"

"Daisuke," said Daisuke uneasily. "Hiroshi has
brown hair. Mine is black."

"Ah." Much to Daisuke's concern, Hikaru seemed
to be filing that statement away for future reference.

Hikaru stared inquisitively at him.

Daisuke stared back, nervous.

Things were perfectly silent for awhile.

Finally, Hikaru went back to his book.

"You know, Hikaru," Daisuke shot out, "I never
knew how much we had in common."

Hikaru gave him a sidelong glance. "Really?
I never knew we had anything in common."

Daisuke froze. Crap! This was proving harder
than he'd thought! "Well—" he at last ventured,
"we're both guys. And we—both attend the
same school..."

Hikaru actually blinked at that. It was the first
time in his life that Daisuke found someone
blinking terrifying. "My goodness!" stated Hikaru,
a dangerous undercurrent of cheeriness in his voice.
"That is an awful lot! On reflection, it occurs to me
that we are both carbon-based lifeforms. Of the
same genus and species, most likely." Hikaru grinned
at him. Daisuke actually felt an urge to take a step
back. "I now see that we have a suitable basis for
a friendship. And an important part of friendship is
being sensitive to the wishes of our friends."

Daisuke smiled. Things actually seemed to be
working out. "Exactly!"

"Goodbye then."

Hikaru went back to his book.

Daisuke took a deep breath. This was Hikaru
Gosunkugi, for godssake! The one person in
Furinkan that every other member of the student
body could look down on. He shouldn't be
brushing Daisuke off! He should be happy that
Daisuke was even deigning to speak to him! No—
strike that, he should be ecstatic that Daisuke was
even noticing he existed! It just wasn't fair. Things
weren't supposed to go this way!

Hikaru glanced at him, half amused, half
annoyed. "You haven't moved, Daisuke."

Daisuke practically jumped. "Umm, yes,
well, I..."

"What do you want Daisuke?"

Daisuke gulped. "Nothing, nothing, I—"

Hikaru rubbed his forehead lightly.
"Please don't lie to me Daisuke. I really
don't have the patience for it. And don't
tell me that you're here for the pleasure
of my company. I'm a lot of things, but
stupid isn't one of them." He thought that
over. "Well, not that brand of stupid,
anyway." He went back to his book.
"So, out with it."

"I need you to put in a good word with
Nabiki for me!"

Hikaru stared at him a moment. "Explain
why I need to do this?"

"So I can go out with Sayuri!"

Hikaru seemed to stare right through him.
"That explanation not only didn't clarify
matters, it actually made them more opaque."
He took a deep breath. "Now first—why do
you need to go out with Sayuri? I thought
you liked Yuka."

Daisuke frowned. "Sayuri is my true love.
My feelings for Yuka were a passing phase..."

"Like your feelings for Akane," noted
Hikaru.

"Uh, yes, like..."

"Or your feelings for Miss Midori,
the kindergarten teacher..."

"Umm—what's the point of all this...?"

Hikaru waved his hand. "Just noting that
you go through a lot of passing phases.
Okay, now, how does my going to Nabiki
and telling her you're a great guy get you
Sayuri? Explain this, demonstrating how
point A leads to point C, traveling through
point B." He smiled slightly. "Use concise
sentences."

"Nabiki is Sayuri's friend. You are Nabiki's
friend. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

Hikaru squinted slightly. "Nabiki has friends?
That's news to me." He went back to his book.

Daisuke stared at him. "Look, I know she's
prickly..."

Hikaru laughed. "Nabiki Tendou is prickly
the way a knife is prickly. Not the way a
hedgehog is prickly, which seems to be
what you're implying."

Daisuke stared at him. "Aren't you going
to give me any help?"

Hikaru glanced back at him. "You love
this girl?"

"With all my heart," replied Daisuke
without a moment's hesitation.

Hikaru looked at him for a moment,
then went back to his book. "Lick the
floor, and I'll do what you asked."

"What?"

"Lick the floor," Hikaru repeated evenly.
"Get on you knees, and lick the floor,
using your tongue. Do that and I'll consider
helping you."

Daisuke stared at him. "Are you crazy?"

Hikaru smiled. "A tad touched perhaps."
A serious look came over his face. "Those
are my terms. Take them or leave them."

Daisuke shuddered. "But what you're
talking about is humiliating and degrading!"

Hikaru laughed. "And I thought you loved
her with all your heart. You won't even consider
my terms..." Hikaru glanced at him evenly. "You
see, Daisuke, what I'm talking about is love.
Degradation and humiliation are the primary
ingredients. If you're not willing to drag yourself
through broken glass and nitric acid—twice—with
nothing more than her glorious memory to pull you
through—well, it isn't very sincere."

Daisuke blinked. "What—what are you saying?"

Hikaru leaned back to look at him. "I'm questioning
the depths of your 'feelings' for Sayuri. You pledge
eternal devotion readily enough, but pledging is easy.

Proving it's the hard part." He went back to his book.

"I don't think you did. You may be interested in
Sayuri,
but it isn't love. Not by a long shot."

Daisuke's eyebrows arched in a position of supreme
rage. "You dare! You dare question the burning passion

I feel for Sayuri! I have half a mind to challenge you

to a fight right now!"

Hikaru chuckled. "And wouldn't that be an epic
struggle of the Titans?"

Daisuke stared at him, angrily. "And what's that
supposed to mean?"

Hikaru shrugged. "Well, I may not be able to tell
you two apart easily, but I do recall you and Hiroshi
were beat up by a group of eight year old girls..."

Daisuke began to shake apoplectically. "That is a
vile lie! They were twelve-year olds! And ninjas!"

Hikaru smiled a bit at that.

Daisuke shook his fist. "Like you'd have done
any better!"

Hikaru flipped a page of his book. "Well, that's
generally the reason I don't go challenging
people to fights..."

Daisuke swung his fist at Hikaru's face. There
was a slap. Daisuke shook his head. The noise
seemed to have come just bit too early. He
looked down.

Hikaru, it seemed, had grabbed fist in midair.
Without even turning. While reading his book.

Daisuke stared at him. Hikaru glanced up at him,
and shook his head. "Ahh, Daisuke. Is this what
our friendship has come to?"

Daisuke bit his lip and walked away. Faced down
by Hikaru Gosunkugi! This was the sort of thing
you never lived down—that required moving to
other school systems in a desperate attempt to
avoid the vile stench it left behind. Hiroshi
glanced at him as he sat back down. "How'd it go?"

"Not well," muttered Daisuke.

-----

"Y'know Miroku, you're all right, by
superhero standards," muttered Zoisite,
slightly drunk. "You understand just 'cause
a bloke's got to work in the service of evil
doesn't make him a bad guy..."

Miroku took a sip from his bourbon. "I
believe in judging people in a case-by-case
basis," he stated evenly.

Malachite blinked miserably. "Once whole
civilizations shuddered at the mere mention
of my name, you know that?!"

"What you believe in Miroku," said Zoisite,
"is making a quick profit."

"Okay, I admit they weren't very big civilizations,
or particularly advanced ones but still—
CIVILIZATIONS MAN!" complained Malachite
emotively.

"Not that I have anything against that,"
continued Zoisite. "In fact, I admire it."

"I mean, do you realize that most of Belgium
lived in terror of me at one point?" muttered
Malachite.

"It's not just the profit!" said Miroku. "I consider
you two good friends and invaluable sources of
information!"

"Oh—and Finland! I was pretty big up there!"
Malachite ranted drunkenly.

Zoisite gave a slight nod. The former supervillain
didn't have much pride left, but what was there
could be worked on. "An invaluable source..." A
slight chuckle escaped Zoisite's lips. "What do
you want to know...?"

"That business opening up downtown—there's
something off about it..." began Miroku.

"And the Isle of Yapp!" said Malachite.
"I had those bastards crawling!"

Zoisite shrugged. "All that I know about that
place is that I know very little about that place.
No sign of a boss—no idea what it does—no
mention of hiring anybody." A smile spread
over the handsome face. "Suspicious yet?"

"I mean, say what you will—that's an
impressive body of work..." whimpered
Malachite.

"Quite," said Miroku, leaning back and finishing
his bourbon. "Tell me, Zoisite, would you and
Malachite consider doing me a favor...?"

"Oh god," moaned Malachite. "Has my whole life
been a lie?" He began sobbing inarticulately.

Zoisite laughed. "Where you're concerned Miroku,
there's only two questions—'What is it?' and
'How much would we get paid?' "

Miroku nodded and leaned forward.

-----

Hikaru was not in a very good mood. In fact he
was downright snippy. So, he had done what he
always did when depression weighed him down
so heavily he feared he wouldn't be able to move.

He'd skipped class to read peacefully on the roof.
In peace.

There were many reasons that he was in a snippy
mood today. The Number One reason was that
Akane was home sick today, allegedly with a
cold, with the result that he had been denied
the blessed oasis from fear that was her face.
Worse, he'd seen Akane out walking behind
her house, which meant that she'd fabricated
the illness for some unfathomable reason. Hikaru
was working out several theories, and was presently
split between an attempted elopement with a
foreigner who was going to sweep her away
to Paris, and a secret life as a yakuza errand girl,
living under the constant threat of rival families.
Needless to say, all this theorizing was having a
bad effect on Hikaru's disposition, which could
not be called rosy in the most favorable of
conditions.

Of course there were two other reasons for
Hikaru's bad disposition of late, two reasons
that ranked just below Akane's mysterious absence.
Two reasons that caused him great irritation.
Two reasons that lost him sleep. Two reasons—

"Hi, Dr. Strange!" said Reason #2, leaning over
his shoulder with Reason #3 in tow. "How are you?"

Hikaru suppressed an urge to scream, as
Reasons #2 and 3 jumped over Reason #1,
and did a dance on top of it. "Kagome. And
Inu-Yasha." He ground his teeth. "Why are
you here?"

Kagome laughed. "Well, we wanted to see
you of course..."

Hikaru stood up and glanced around.
"Kagome... I'm on the roof..."

Kagome nodded. "Yeah, Inu-Yasha thought
he smelled you up here, so we climbed up
the walls..."

Hikaru glanced down past the railing. "This
is a five story building..."

Kagome shrugged. "Well, I didn't say it
was easy..."

"Maybe not for you," Inu-Yasha muttered.

"DON'T YOU TWO HAVE LIVES?" screamed
Hikaru.

Kagome glared at him. "Well, you don't have to
yell." She glanced around hurt. "And I'll have
you know that Inu-Yasha and I do have lives—
lives dedicated with every fiber of our being to
crime-fighting..."

Hikaru let out an inarticulate moan, and then
slumped forward, defeated. "Today is a school
day," he muttered slowly.

Kagome glanced away. "Well, Inu-Yasha can't
go to school 'cause he isn't registered—and I
can't go to school 'cause I've got a government
order, barring me from attending."

Hikaru's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"What?"

Kagome giggled nervously. "It's on account
of my leprosy."

Hikaru's eyebrows remained up. "Leprosy?"

Kagome looked at her feet. "My grandpa got
a bit carried away..."

Hikaru sat down dazed. One question was
being screamed in his mind—what had he
done to deserve this?

-----

"Well, here are the packages, Dr. Tofu..."
said the delivery man. "Sign here."

Dr. Tofu Ono jotted down his name cheerfully.
"Thank you. You have no idea how glad I am
to get these..."

The delivery man glanced up in the trees.
"Hey, is that an owl?"

Dr. Tofu glanced up and nodded. "It's
been there for about...four months now.
I believe it's a North Pacific Clicking Owl."

"That so, " said the delivery man. "What
makes you think that?"

"Well," said Dr. Tofu, "if you listen very
carefully you'll hear its call—a sort of
clicking..."

-Click-Click-Click- went the owl, in a manner
somewhat reminiscent of a camera, if one had
a reason to make that connection.

-----

Hikaru sighed. Okay, okay. He'd take down his
spy camera. And get rid of his picture collection.
And...

Well, he'd take care of things.

"So," began Hikaru, "The actual answer to my
question was 'No, you do not have lives'." Hikaru
took a deep breath. "Well, I do have a life. It's a
small, sad, pathetic thing, but it is my own, so
please, please let me get on with it."

"Come on, Hikaru!" Kagome said pleadingly.
"I know we're having problems working together,
but I'm sure we can take care of that! We can
learn how to function as a group, both as
superheroes and regular individuals!"

Hikaru began to massage his forehead.
"And how are we going to do that?"

Kagome shrugged. "Well, we can start
by finding shared interests! Like reading!"
She glanced at Hikaru's book. "What are
you reading?"

Hikaru stared at her despairingly, and
then held up his book. "_Le Nausea_, by
Sartre," he replied.

"Ahh!" said Kagome. She thought about
the title, as if trying to remember it, and
then smiled. "So what's it about?"

"Man's existence in a bleak, amoral universe
devoid of all ethical laws save for those we
make," answered Hikaru.

"Sounds fun!" answered Kagome automatically.

Hikaru screwed up his face, and let forth a
primal scream. "Damn it! Don't you get it!
I'm not a deluded loser like you! I'm a
completely different sort of deluded loser!
We have nothing in common!"

"Oh, yes we do," said Kagome. "We're both
superheroes." She immediately stiffened. "Fans."

Hikaru squinted in puzzlement. "Kagome,
that was strange and nonsensical even for
you." He noticed that Kagome was staring
off in a fixed direction, nervously. Hikaru
turned around, and immediately began frowning.
"Nabiki," he stated in tones of sweetest vinegar.
"Were you looking for me, or did you just happen
to hear the sound of a yen piece hitting the ground?"

Nabiki frowned back at him. "You know, Gosunkugi,
you have really taken to pressing your luck..."

Hikaru glanced away, irritated. "Yes, Nabiki,
I know how horrible it must be to have one
your marks grow a spine. My hearts bleeds
for you. 'Flow my tears', the policeman said..."

Nabiki chose to ignore that. "So who're your
friends?" Nabiki glanced Kagome and Inu-Yasha
over with the forceful finesse of a police officer
memorizing the people in lock-up. "I don't believe
we've met."

Hikaru gestured at Kagome. "This Kagome,
my..."

"Fiancee!" blurted out Kagome.

"Friend from my manga club," completed
Hikaru with a bitter glance in Kagome's
direction.

A rather amused, knowing grin came over
Nabiki's face. "So, which is it?" she asked.

"Neither!" shot out Kagome.

"Both," muttered Hikaru with tired
resignation.

"I'm his cousin!" squeaked Kagome.

Nabiki's look of cynical knowledge had
been replaced by one of general confusion.
"Umm, so are you engaged or not?"

"Yes!" said Kagome. "We are engaged!"
She glanced at Hikaru. "Aren't we?"

Hikaru began to massage his forehead.
"Yes, Kagome. We are engaged."

Kagome turned to Nabiki and nodded.
"Yep. Most definitely engaged."

Nabiki's smile reappeared. "Well, well,
well. When did this happen, Gosunkugi?"

Hikaru exhaled loudly. "It's one of those
traditional intra-family arranged engagements.
You know, pledged at birth, and so forth..."

A bit of skepticism appeared on the edges
of Nabiki's eyes. "Didn't know your family
went in for that sort of thing..."

"Neither did I," said Hikaru levelly. "And to
think that I was going to rely on my good looks,
and winning personality."

"Well," said Nabiki, giving him an overly familiar
pat on the shoulder, "call me when you've got a
date for the wedding. I'd be willing to forward
my sister's services as a caterer, for a sizable
discount."

Hikaru gave her a cool stare. "Kasumi, I
assume."

"Why, no." Nabiki grinned merrily. "Akane!
Everyone knows how fond you are of her
cooking."

Hikaru's cool stare lowered a few degrees in
temperature. No doubts what that meant. He
took a deep breath. Time to begin 'Operation:
Save Chances With Akane'. "Listen, Nabiki,"
he whispered, "I wouldn't expect a wedding
announcement to appear in the paper any time
soon. Or possibly at all."

Nabiki's eyes spread in shock. "Now,
Gosunkugi, why would you turn your back
on something like that?" she asked in an
unpleasant murmur.

Hikaru coughed. "Note my cousin's halting
confused speech, and twitchy ways."

"Ohh," said Nabiki with dawning comprehension.

"Don't mention a word of this to her—it
would break the poor dear's heart." Hikaru
glanced around furtively. "And I wouldn't
mention anything about Santa Claus either..."

Nabiki turned to Kagome and nodded in a
very patronizing manner. "Well, hello there.
I'm Nabiki Tendou." She nodded again, and
spoke very slowly. "How are you?"

"Fine," Kagome answered. She turned to
Hikaru. "This is Nabiki? I thought she'd be
some sort of giant..."

Nabiki glanced at Hikaru, somewhat angered,
and found him rubbing his temples. She decided
not to comment on things after all. She turned
to Inu-Yasha. "And who's this?"

Hikaru's eyes snapped open in panic. "Why
that's—that's—Yoshi! Yoshi Sai!" He began
to laugh nervously. "My good friend from
Nagasaki!" He coughed. "If you catch my
drift..."

Nabiki nodded. "I thought that wasn't a
costume." She grinned at Inu-Yasha. "A
friendly word of advice—muties aren't too
popular here."

Hikaru laughed. "Spoken with all the
tolerance that I've learnt to expect
from you."

Nabiki smiled. "Well, I heard you had
some new friends Hikaru, and I wanted
to see them." She walked off. "And
now that I have, I've got to say—it's
nice to see you've found—" She
paused here, feigning to consider her
next words. "Your sort of people."
And with a mocking peal, Nabiki was
off.

Hikaru began to clench his fists.
"Do you think she suspects we're
superheroes?" Kagome asked.

Hikaru glanced at her. "Trust me,
Kagome, that is the last thing she
would ever think." He scowled.
This was turning into a really
annoying day.

A peal of thunder was heard in the sky.

Hikaru seethed. And now it was
raining. Perfect.

-----

Daisuke threw down his controller in
frustration, nearly spilling the bowl of
nachos set between him and Hiroshi.
"Damn it, Hiroshi, that's the seventh
time you beat me!"

Hiroshi gave an aristocratic sniff. "Is it
my fault that you can't approach my
level of vaunted skill?"

"That's because I don't play for eight
hours a day!"

"I think someone's being a Grousy
Gertie."

Daisuke blinked. "What the hell
does that mean?"

Hiroshi shrugged. "I dunno."

"Oh, forget about this!" swore Daisuke,
turning to the pile of magazines. "Now
where's this nude code?"

Hiroshi thought it over. "I think it's in
*Video Game Maniac*. Or maybe
*Video Game Fanatic*. Or was it
*Video Game Zealot*? No—no,
I've got it—it was in *Video Game
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder*!
I'm pretty sure that's the one."

Daisuke grumbled to himself, and flipped
through the last designated magazine looking
for the code. He wasn't having any luck,
when he saw the ad.

'DO YOU WANT ULTIMATE POWER?',
it asked, in bold red letters.

Daisuke found himself intrigued.

'Are you a pathetic failure, a poor excuse for
a human being?'

Daisuke felt insulted by that. But he didn't
stop reading.

'Do the strong and powerful take advantage
of you with their superior martial skill? Do the
witty and clever baffle you with their verbal
byplay? Do the beautiful and desirable ignore
your existence?'

Oddly enough, Daisuke found himself thinking
of Nabiki, Hikaru, and Sayuri in short order.

'We can help,' promised the ad. 'Call Ultimate
Power, Inc. 666-1313-DAMNED.'

Daisuke glanced at Hiroshi. "Hey, can I use
your phone?"

Hiroshi continued to play his video game.
"Are you going to call a sex line?"

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Damn. Mom won't let me use them, and
I thought that might be a way around it."

Daisuke glared at him, and called the number.
After about eight rings, a female voice picked
up the phone. "Hello, Ultimate Power, Inc.
Offering your hearts darkest desires at a very
reasonable price."

Daisuke smiled. "Hello, I—"

"Please hold," said the voice.

'I come from a land down under,' began
the hold music, 'where women glow and
men plunder. Can you hear, can you hear
the thunder? You better run, you better
take cover—'

The phone clicked as the flute music
started. "Hello, sir? Are you still there?"

"Yes," said Daisuke.

"Just checking."

-Click-

'Love is a burning thing—And it makes
a fiery ring—Bound by wild desire—I fell
into ring of fire. I fell into a burning ring of
fire. I went down, down, down, and the
flames went higher. And it burns, burns,
burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire..."

-Click-

"Still there, sir?"

"Well, yes, now—"

"Good."

-Click-

'Who wants to play those eights
and aces? Who wants a raise—who
needs a stake? Who wants to take
that long shot gamble—and head
out to Fire Lake?'

-Click-

"How about now? Still on?"

"Yes! Now would you please—"

-Click-

'I shouted out, "Who killed the
Kennedys?" when after all—it was you
and me! Let me please introduce myself—
I'm a man of wealth and taste—and I laid
traps—'

This time Daisuke started shouting as
soon as he heard the click. "Listen,
what is the idea here?! I have been
patient long enough, and now—!"

"You know," said the female voice
on the other end, "we are a very busy
business, sir. Our services are in constant
demand by many people, often in high
positions—lawyers, media moguls,
politicians, celebrities, radio talk
show hosts..."

"Um, sorry, miss..." said Daisuke,
sheepishly.

"So would you like an appointment?"

"Uh, sure," Daisuke replied.

"Tonight at eight then," replied the
woman. "It will be a pleasure doing
business with you."

"Right," said Daisuke.

"By the way—not that this means
anything—but are you the least bit
squeamish about the sight of your
own blood?"

-----

"Fiancée!" screamed Inu-Yasha, looking
for all the world like a man about to have a
conniption fit. "What was that about?!"

Kagome glanced at him, while continuing her
archery practice. "I just needed a cover identity.
It's not like it's real or anything."

"Yes..." whimpered Inu-Yasha,
"But—Fiancée...?!"

Kagome set up her shot, and released.
"It's all I could think of on short notice..."
A grin broke out on her face. "All right!
Bullseye!"

"Why not cousin?!" screamed Inu-Yasha.

"Did that too..." muttered Kagome, taking
out another arrow.

"You know what I MEANT!" shouted
Inu-Yasha. "Why'd you have to pretend to
be engaged to that bastard?" He turned away.
"He really, really bugs me. Like when he stole
my fight last night..."

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Inu-Yasha, Hikaru
did not steal your fight. In fact, he probably
saved your life..."

Inu-Yasha crossed his arms. "Did not! I don't
need my life saved by that whinin', flyin',
energy-blastin' fake! I'm five times the man he
is! No, ten! He wishes he was as good as me!"
Inu-Yasha turned back to look at her. "You know
that's right Kagome."

Kagome stared at him a moment.

Inu-Yasha gulped. "You do know that's
right, don't you?"

A slight smile came Kagome's lips. "You're
jealous."

Inu-Yasha immediately began to honestly
and truly panic. "Wha—? Am not!"

Kagome giggled. "You are! You're totally
threatened by him, and everythin'!"

Inu-Yasha crossed his arms peevishly. "I
AM NOT!"

"Are too!" said Kagome, stringing her
next arrow. "You are green with envy!"

Inu-Yasha began to pout. "Am not! And—
and—and—your hair's really ugly..."

Kagome missed the next shot, by a
significant margin. "What—did you say...?"

Inu-Yasha had an immediate sense that
he'd stepped over an invisible line that
was not to be crossed. "I... just said...
your hair's...really...ugly..."

A nearby tree that Kagome's arrow had
buried itself in exploded. "NOBODY
INSULTS MY HAIR!" she screamed.

Inu-Yasha gulped at the sight of a very
angry Kagome.

This was the end of all civil conversation
between the two for the next few hours.

-----

Hikaru sat in the café frowning. Kagome
and Inu-Yasha had been getting more and
more irritating over a period of days, steadily
reaching an annoying critical mass. He'd lost
his temper with them this afternoon. He was
going to lose it again—and it was probably
going to be worse.

He signaled the waitress. "Another cup of
coffee. Mocha Delight."

She glanced at him. "You've had six
already."

Hikaru stared at her drearily. "Your
point being?"

The waitress stared back. "If I give you
another cup, you are probably going to
have a heart attack right in front of me."

Hikaru shrugged. "I'm willing to take
that risk."

"Well, I'm not," stated the waitress
darkly. "Understand?"

Hikaru sluggishly raised his arm,
and extended his wrist. "Take my pulse..."

"What?" stated the waitress, her eyes widening.

"Take my pulse." Hikaru sighed.
"I'd make it simpler, but we're already
down to single syllables..."

The waitress eyed him suspiciously.
"This isn't some perverted 'touch of a
woman' thing, is it?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Now take my pulse."

Grumbling something about 'rude young
bastards', the waitress did as he asked.
After about a minute, her face took on a
rather startled expression. "Umm...
Fifty-something beats a minute..."

"Yep," said Hikaru tersely.

"With six cups of coffee in you," continued
the waitress.

"Uh-huh," replied Hikaru.

"Are you—legally dead, or something...?"
she asked, quietly.

"I don't know—haven't checked. Now,
that next cup? I promised myself I'd try
every type of coffee you've got here, and
I intend to keep that promise..." He tapped
the counter. "Also I hope to resolve a
long-standing suspicion of mine that Mocha
Delight and Chocolate Hazelnut are actually
the same flavor..."

The waitress headed back, eyeing him
suspiciously. "Haven't I seen you before?"

"Probably," replied Hikaru. "I'm something
of a regular." Hikaru tapped his fingers on
the counter as she headed back into the kitchen.
There was one benefit to being a sorcerer, he
found—you no longer worried too much about
the opinions of others. A slight smile came to
his face. It was nice to have just a touch of
self-respect.

At that moment, a glowing image of the
Ancient One appeared beside him. "Hikaru,
my disciple..."

Hikaru groaned. "Do you mind? I'm having
a cup of coffee..."

"I am contacting you from afar to give
you grave news."

"Well," said Hikaru grimly, "it was too
much to hope it was to ask how I was doing."

"Dark forces are at work, my disciple."

"I know, I know. They're always at work.
Evil is having a twenty-four hour love-in, and
it's my sworn duty to breakup the party and
confiscate the liquor."

"Umm... right," said the Ancient One, clearly
puzzled by Hikaru's statement. Finally, letting
it pass, he assumed a pose of great importance.
"A force of evil of great power has come to
Tokyo, Hikaru. It will bring a horrible—"

"Disturbance in the Force," muttered
Hikaru tiredly. "I understand, Obi Wan."
He leaned back. "I am on it. Like white on
rice. Like flies on—well, I'm on it."

"This is no laughing matter, disciple."

Hikaru sighed. "I know that. I'm the one in
the trenches facing Armageddon, and you
know what? The world's still here, so I must
be doing a halfway decent job."

A bit of a smile came to the Ancient One's
face. "That is one way of putting it." He
chuckled. "So how are you?"

Hikaru shrugged. "Oh, I don't know.
Comme ci, comme ca."

The Ancient One nodded, and then
turned into a column of bright light and
vanished. Hikaru rolled his eyes. "No
restraint..." He glanced up.

The waitress was staring at him, holding
his cup of coffee. After a long silence,
she spoke. "There was a—man—a
glowing man..."

Hikaru took his cup of coffee.
"You were hallucinating."

She stared at him. "You were
talking to it..."

"I was also hallucinating."

The waitress's eyes arched cynically.
"Two people can hallucinate the same
thing?"

"Happens all the time." Hikaru sipped
his coffee. "What do you know? They
are subtly different."

-----

"Honestly, Zoisite," commented
Jadeite, "I don't know why you
and Malachite are doing this."

Zoisite continued to look across
the street through his opera glasses.
"Because unlike you, my old friend,
we are interested in surviving our exile.
Isn't that right, dear?"

"A lie," muttered Malachite darkly.
"A bitter, empty, meaningless lie!"

"Of course, darling," said Zoisite,
good-humoredly patting him on
the head.

"Honestly, Zoisite, you and your
persecution complex!" laughed Jadeite.
"Annhilus may not like us, but Queen
Beryl is still on our side."

"Don't you mean 'Lady Blastarr'?

"Let's not quibble. If we just do our
jobs, she'll reinstate us. Just you watch."
Jadeite glanced over to the side. "If you'd
just excuse me for a moment." He walked
over to a nervous looking salaryman who'd
been hovering around the group for sometime.
"Hello sailor. Mind if I siphon off your life
energy...?"

"Umm... you have to understand—I
usually don't go for—this sort of thing—
not really—um—no—so—please don't
tell my wife..." babbled the salaryman
as the pair walked off together.

A second later a horrific scream
emanated from the direction they'd
headed in.

Shortly after it ended, Jadeite returned,
grinning. Zoisite glared at him. "You're
going to be caught one day..."

"Well, why don't you tell your friend
superhero about me?" snickered Jadeite.

Zoisite shrugged. "Misplaced loyalty,
I suppose. After all, it's not like I'm
going to pull a Nephryte." Nephryte
had abandoned the cause completely,
and decided to spend his exile "finding
himself". Last as any of his old friends
knew, he'd wound up teaching 19th
Century English Literature at a California
Liberal Arts College.

Jadeite gave an insincere nod. "Admit it,
you're just hoping that I'll put in a good
word for you when I'm reinstated."

Zoisite gave a bored nod. "Right. When
the Emperor magically decides to stop
hating us."

"Believe me, honey," said Jadeite
haughtily, " the Emperor may issue
his proclamations, but Beryl's the one
with her hands on his Cosmic Control
Rod. If you get my meaning..."

Zoisite actually shuddered. "Don't
give me bad thoughts..."

Malachite blinked wearily. "Weren't
we supposed to tell Miroku if something
happened at the store...?"

Zoisite nodded. "Why? What's
happened?"

"Couple of guys are looking at it..."
muttered Malachite, returning to a
dull slouch.

Zoisite raised his opera glasses.
"You're right. They're heading inside."
A smile touched his lips. "Well, let's
give the Devil-Slayer a call," he stated,
helping Malachite up.

Watching the pair walk away,
Jadeite chuckled. It was odd to
think that Malchite and Zoisite had
once been his superiors—they were
so utterly defeated now. Oh, well—
that meant more power for him when—

"Excuse me sir..." said a rough voice.
Jadeite turned around. A pair of police
officers stood there, staring at him.

Jadeite coughed. "Umm what is, officer...?"

The second officer answered his
question. "We saw you walk off with
that business man... AND we heard the
scream..."

"Oh really?" said Jadeite nervously.

"Yes," said the first cop, "and we're
wondering—could you handle—well,
two at once...?"

"Certainly!" laughed Jadeite relieved.
Linking his arms with the cops, he
escorted them off. "Just follow me!
The Empire is always happy for your
assistance!"

-----

"Neat office, eh, Daisuke?" asked Hiroshi,
nudging his friend in the ribs.

"Please don't do that!" whined Daisuke.
Hiroshi had followed him to Ultimate Power,
Inc. largely because Daisuke had been unable
to think of a way to get rid of him.

"Sorry," muttered Hiroshi. He glanced around,
then nudged Daisuke in the ribs again. "It is neat
though, right?"

Daisuke groaned, then gave a quick nod. He
had to admit the place was well furnished, and
extremely fancy looking, though the mural of
damned souls writhing in torment seemed an
odd choice for an office...

Daisuke as said, wasn't very bright. Also,
he'd never worked in an office.

"Ahem!" came a rather sharp feminine
voice. The pair glanced up, and then tried
to look away so as to not appear to be
ogling. They didn't succeed.

The owner of the voice was a ravishing
creature with long, blonde hair, pale skin,
and a figure that wouldn't have been out
of place in *Dead or Alive*, nude code,
or no nude code. She was wearing a tight
red dress that didn't so much reveal cleavage
as exhibit it, along with a good deal of her
chest and stomach. A pair of bright red
vinyl boots were on her legs, while a pair
of fingerless gloves covered her hands.
Her face was marked by a group of strange
tattoos. The overall effect suggested an
S+M mistress who'd decided to go into
business, but had kept her old wardrobe.
She looked over Daisuke and Hiroshi in a
way that was rather predatory, amplified
by the fact that she seemed to have fangs.

If they'd been looking at her face, the pair
might have noticed that.

"Are you the eight o'clock appointment?"

It took Daisuke a moment to get his mind
off more pressing matters, and answer her
question. "Yes. Yes, we are," said Daisuke,
his gaze immediately slipping back south.

"Good. I'm Mara S. Satana," she said
offering Daisuke her hand.

Hiroshi looked puzzled. "What's the 'S' for?"

"Satana."

"Mara Satana Satana..." Hiroshi thought
that over. "Is that Italian?"

Mara looked somewhat surprised. "Sure.
Why not?" She glanced at her watch. "Now
if you'll follow me..." She turned around,
causing the pair's gaze to sink even lower,
and led them to her office.

If they'd been looking at the office, they
might have wondered why all of her furniture
seemed to have been built partially out of bones.

If they'd been looking at the office.

"Now then," said Mara, sitting down in her
office chair, "what is it you desire?"

A grave look came to Daisuke's face.
"I want Say—no. I want to be the sort
of person worthy of Sayuri's notice.
Someone with force and power..."

"Ah," said Mara. "And would having
the power to demolish a skyscraper with
your bare hands fulfill that wish?"

Daisuke thought it over. "That sounds
good."

Mara glanced at Hiroshi. "And you?
What do you want?"

"The same thing he gets—only with
an eyepatch," Hiroshi answered immediately.

Daisuke glanced at him, annoyed. "An
eyepatch?"

Hiroshi shrugged. "An eyepatch makes
everything cooler."

Mara nodded. "It's doable." She snapped
her fingers. "Senbei! Two standard
contracts, pronto!"

"Coming, oh effulgent mistress!" shouted
a high-pitched voice. Before Daisuke and
Hiroshi's startled eyes, a tiny man flew in,
holding a pair of contracts that looked for
all the world like loose-bound encyclopedias.

"What is that?" asked Hiroshi.

Mara gave a throaty chuckle. "That's
Senbei, my office genie. He helps me
with the office work—filing, light
typing, carrying things, making the
coffee..."

As Senbei dropped Hiroshi's contract
before him, Hiroshi grabbed him.
"Neat! He looks so lifelike!"

"Mistress!" shouted the so-designated
'office genie', "Senbei is having trouble
breathing!"

"All simulated," noted Mara.

Daisuke began to flip through the
contract. " 'I, the undersigned, hereafter
and in the hereafter to be known as the
damned'..." He scanned ahead. "What's
this about 'twenty pints of virgin blood
per annum'?"

"Typical legal jargon," replied Mara,
who was now leaning back in her chair
and playing a handheld videogame.

"Oh," said Daisuke. He looked further
ahead. "And the bit about receiving my
soul 'in perpetuity'?"

"Means we get it forever," said Mara
calmly. "Oh damn. Killed by a bat."

"Sounds fair," said Daisuke mulling
the matter over. "What do you think?"

Hiroshi was still poking and prodding
Senbei. "Man the articulation's incredible..."
he stated, raising the genie's leg.

"Mistress Satana!" shouted Senbei.
"Senbei feels he is being touched in an
inappropriate manner!"

"Deal with it," said Mara glumly as
her character once again plummeted
to its doom.

"Hiroshi," muttered Daisuke, annoyed,
"put the woman's office genie down."

Hiroshi grunted disappointedly and
dropped Senbei on the desk. The little
man tottered off dazedly. Hiroshi glanced
at Mara. "What ya playing?"

Mara remained focused on the game.
"*Castlevania: Songspiel of Uneasiness*."

Hiroshi nodded. "Cool. You got the
Cross Sword?"

Mara gave him an irritated glance. "No."

"Just take the secret passage in the
Succubus's chamber," said Hiroshi
confidently.

Mara threw down the game in frustration.
"You lie! There is no such passage! I looked,
and I looked, and I looked, and I couldn't find it!"

"No, no there is," offered Hiroshi cheerfully.
"You just have to put out all the candles, and
then jump through the left wall."

Mara glanced at him a moment, then picked
up the game. After a few moments, a large
grin broke out on her face. "Yes! Yes!" A
haughty laugh escaped her lips. "Take that
you mortal plaything! Nobody gets the better
of Mara Satana!" She put the game down
and glanced at the still wobbling Senbei.
"Senbei! Get me one of the special contracts
for my friend here!"

"Hey!" shouted Daisuke. "How come
he gets a special contract?"

Mara glared at him. "Look, this is a
decision on my part, based on what
I think is best..."

"Well, I want the same sort of contract
he gets," said Daisuke. "Otherwise, I'm
not signing."

"All right, you big baby," muttered
Mara. "Senbei! Make that two special
contracts!"

The genie whimpered. "But, mistress,
Senbei is not a well genie..."

"I said to get me two special contracts,
NOT to debate me!" shouted Mara.

Senbei gave an unsteady bow. "Immediately
dread one!" With that he rushed off, tottering.
He quickly retuned with two more heavy
contracts, which he deposited before
Hiroshi and Daisuke.

Hiroshi blinked. "Do you expect me
to read all that?"

Mara shook her head. "Nope. Only
to sign it."

Hiroshi smiled. "Ah. Good."

Mara glanced at Senbei, who was
lying on the desk, groaning in agony.
"Senbei! The pens!"

"But, mistress... Senbei's back—he
thinks he's thrown it..."

Mara drew out a fly swatter. "Now
Senbei!"

Senbei gulped. "Of course, Stygian one!"
With that he scurried off, and returned
quickly holding a pair of pens with syringes
attached to them. Handing them to Mara, he
collapsed panting on the desk.

Mara rolled up her clients' sleeves. "Now,
if you don't mind, we have a little quirk
here—we sign our contracts in blood."

Daisuke glanced at her. "Why?"

Mara shrugged. "It's a legal thing..."

"Oh," said Daisuke, nodding in
understanding.

"Owie!" said Hiroshi.

"Hey, that smarts!" shouted Daisuke.

Mara handed them the pens. "Well, sign."

The pair did so, and then started rubbing
their arms.

"Excellent!" screamed Mara in triumph,
clapping her hands. "Now gentlemen, we
begin!" She laughed maniacally. "Senbei!
The anesthetic!"

Daisuke blinked. "Why do you need
anesth—?"

At that moment, Senbei hit him on the
head with a mallet.

-----

It was the late hours of the evening, and
Hikaru was lying in his bed listening to
music. There was a knock on the door.
Hikaru glanced up. "Hikaru," came his
father's voice. "May I come in?"

"Sure, dad," said Hikaru.

Toshiro Gosunkugi opened the door to
his son's room. Toshiro looked like a
mustached, middle-aged version of his
son—indeed, the thought that his father
might be an accurate representation of
himself in the future had caused Hikaru
to awake in a cold sweat on more than
one night.

Toshiro glanced around the room at the
various mystical accruements. "Nice décor..."
he stated nervously.

Hikaru nodded. "Thank you. I decided
to give the Addams Family look a try..."

His father looked over at a bronze
mirror. "That's lying crooked..." He
stepped forward. "Maybe I should
adjust it..."

Hikaru glanced up. "No, you shouldn't.
Trust me."

Toshiro backed away, and looked
around a bit more. Finally, he turned
to his son. "So—what are you listening to?"

Hikaru leaned back and shut his eyes.
"Philip Glass's Creation Symphony."

Toshiro smiled. "Well good..." He turned
around awkwardly, then coughed. "Your
mother tells me you joined a manga club..."

"Yes," Hikaru commented. "It is ever-so
delightful."

"Well, good," said Toshiro. "I'm happy to
see you making friends." He shifted slightly.
"I just hope you aren't—being taken advantage
of..."

Hikaru glanced up, puzzled. "What do you
mean?"

Toshiro coughed again. "Well, son, when
I was your age, I joined my high school
soccer team, with the idea of impressing
a—female classmate of mine..."

Hikaru's eyes widened. "You played soccer?"

Toshiro shuddered slightly. "Well, I didn't
so much—play as I—performed odd tasks..."

Hikaru blinked. "Odd... tasks..."

"You know—cleaned the uniforms—got
drinks for the other players—that sort of
thing..."

Hikaru rubbed his forehead. "You were the
waterboy."

"Not officially," answered Toshiro. "The thing
is Hikaru, the other players didn't like me very
much... I was treated—rather poorly, and had
to endure quite a bit of—teasing. Like towel
snapping. And jock locks. And getting dragged
around the playing field. And then there were
those times they threw me out of a moving car..."

"This story does have a point, dad, right?"
Hikaru said uneasily. "You're not just scarring
my psyche for no reason, right?"

Toshiro blinked. "What was tha—oh, the point.
Right. Well, you see eventually Meiko—your
mother—told me that if I wasn't having fun, I
might as well quit, especially as Nodoka wasn't
impressed at all, and was calling me 'a sad,
pathetic woman of a man', 'a hideous waste
of protoplasm', and 'a shrill weakling who
should be put out of his misery'. So I quit
immediately—"

"Good move," said Hikaru.

"—After going to Nodoka and begging
her to deny the awful rumor." Toshiro's
eyes glazed over. "I started to suspect
said rumor was in fact the truth after
she called the police."

"Umm, right..." said Hikaru, beginning
to inch away.

"Fortunately, your mother paid my bail,
and the charges were dropped due to
insufficient evidence..." Toshiro shook
his head. "Anyway, Hikaru, I just want to
say that you don't have to do anything like
that to prove anything to anybody. You're
a bright talented young man with a promising
future, and your mother and I love you,
very much."

Hikaru winced. "Thanks for the sentiment."

Toshiro began to head out. "Well, good
night, Hikaru. It's been nice talking to you
like this." He glanced back. "Any horrible,
crushing secrets you wish to unburden, son?"

Hikaru shut his eyes. "I'll pass."

Toshiro nodded, and left the room. "
All right then. See you tomorrow, son."

Hikaru leaned back and sighed. His father
meant well—as did his mother, really—but
he found their constant displays of affection
unnerving, and just a bit depressing. He
generally felt that his parents wanted to
shield their progeny from the effects of a
world that had beaten them down—a desire
that they had failed quite spectacularly at.
Hikaru shook his head. He really shouldn't
complain. He was certain there were people
worse off then him.

-----

Daisuke managed to open his eyes, and
raise his head unsteadily. He seemed to
be strapped to a table. He glanced to the
side. Mara Satana was wearing a white lab
coat, and pacing back and forth frantically,
her arms waving in a manically animated
fashion. "—Mad, they called me—mad,
but I HAVE SHOWN THEM!" she was
screaming. "At last, I have succeeded!
AT LAST—"

Daisuke glanced at his body. He began
to scream.

Mara stopped her raving to look at him.
"Hey, you weren't supposed to wake up
for another few hours. We're not finished
operating on you."

Daisuke kept screaming.

"Senbei! Readminister the anaethestic!"

Senbei leapt up near Daisuke's head.
"Immediately, mistress!"

Daisuke was still screaming when
the mallet struck his head, though
he stopped shortly thereafter.

-----

It was a bright sunny Saturday
morning and Hikaru was musing
on the calming effects of a little sleep,
a little sunshine, a nice hot shower, and
good music.

"My Lady D'Arbanville," he sang along
with his stereo, as he toweled himself
off, "why do you grieve me so? But
your heart seems so silent—why do
you breathe so low?" It was remarkable—
all his worries of the previous night
seemed small. He was going to enjoy
himself today. Oh, and take care of
that whole 'world threatening' situation
the Ancient One had mentioned.

Eventually.

"I loved you my lady, though in
your grave you lie. I'll always be
with you—this rose will never die,
this rose will never—"

"Hi, Hikaru!" said Kagome opening
the door to his room.

"Die!" said Hikaru, freezing. *Oh, please,
please let the towel have been positioned
properly...*

"Oh, I'm sorry!" said Kagome, turning
around. She glanced over briefly. "Are
you sure you're eating enough? You
look really, really scrawny..."

"I'm FINE..." muttered Hikaru as he
adjusted his towel. "I just have a delicate
build. Now, what the he—what are you
doing here?"

"Well," said Kagome, "Me an' Inu-Yasha
came here to chat—see what you got
planned for the day..." She looked over
the room. "Wow. You've got a lot of
black in here..."

Hikaru began to rub his temples, then
stopped as he realized that his towel was
relying on him to keep it positioned
according to the demands of modesty.
"Kagome—does the impropriety of this
situation strike you? Scratch that—does
the sheer ludicrousness of continuing a
conversation strike you?"

"Black curtains... black sheets... black
walls... black closet..." Kagome blinked.
"Is that a black teddy bear?"

Hikaru shut his eyes. "Kagome, did
you hear my question?"

Kagome gave an absent nod. "Yep.
Wow—he's even got a black SKULL
stitched on him..."

"Then stop staring at Yurik
Schaedenfreude von Angst and
answer my question!" snarled Hikaru.

"Oh," smiled Kagome, "you even named
him! How cute!"

"That's it!" shouted Hikaru. "I refuse to have
my teddy bear critiqued while I'm in a towel!
Get out! Now!"

Kagome gave an eep and then began to head
out. "Honestly... you didn't have to yell..."

Hikaru leaned back against the wall, and glanced
at the solitary teddy bear. "Yurick, my friend, I
think we're in for a very long haul."

-----

Mara Satana grinned at the completed Daisuke
and Hiroshi. "Well there. That wasn't so bad,
was it?"

Hiroshi merely continued twitching. Daisuke
uttered a low moan in response. At least, it
might have been in response. It was hard to
tell.

"Great to see you getting in the spirit of things!"
laughed Mara. "Now then, I believe there was
some girl you liked..."

Daisuke's eyes lost some of their glazed
appearance. Hiroshi began to calm down.
"Sayuriiii..." they groaned together.

Mara smiled brightly and spread her hands.
"Right! Sayuri! Why don't you go—demonstrate
your affections for her?" She chuckled. "Vividly.
Violently. Make them—bleedingly obvious."

"Yes," muttered Daisuke. "We'll do that."

"Right," agreed Hiroshi balefully. The pair
silently made their way out of the shop.

Mara sat down at her desk and smiled. Her
father was right—the best thing about the
damnation game was how little effort was
involved when you got down to it. You just
gave people of less than stellar virtue a great
deal of power without much effort, and then
let them do what they wanted. For example,
in a little while her two proteges were going
to break upon Tokyo like a destroying storm,
and all that she'd had to do was give them a
nudge in the right direction. That was the
good thing about the damned—from Hell's
point of view, they took care of a lot the
work for you.

Hiroshi ducked back in. "Umm, Miss
Satana—how do we find Sayuri?"

Mara glared at him as her reverie was
broken. "Use the demonically enhanced
senses I gave you, idiots!"

Hiroshi nodded cheerfully, and ducked
back out.

Mara bit her lip. Okay, so they weren't
so bright. That was all right. In fact, that
was preferable. As her father liked to put it,
stupid employees didn't get crazy ideas like
unions.

-----

Hikaru went down to the breakfast table with
the slow measured pace of a man going to
face his execution.

The sight waiting for him when he reached
the dining room was horrifying beyond all
measure.

His parents enjoying a pleasant breakfast
with Kagome and Inu-Yasha.

"—And that was when I emerged from
the garbage can, sobbing in defeat and
anguish," finished Toshiro matter-of-factly.

"Wow," said Kagome, putting down her
orange-juice. "I didn't know that chess clubs
could be so cruel."

Toshiro clenched his fists. "They were
more beasts than men!"

Inu-Yasha glanced eagerly at Meiko
Gosunkugi. "Could I have some more
toast, Mrs. Gosunkugi?"

She gave him an affectionate pat on the
head. "Of course..." A slight frown came
to her face. "Oh, dear... you haven't given
me your name yet..."

"Well, most people call me 'Inu-Yasha'..."

Meiko clicked her tongue. "People can be so
cruel."

Toshiro nodded. "That's a fact." He glanced
at Inu-Yasha earnestly. "Well, whatever
persecutions you face normally, you won't
face in the Gosunkugi household. Meiko and
I are firm believers in love and tolerance. It makes
no sense to persecute someone just because they
look different than you. Or are smaller than you.
Or don't think that practicing martial arts make
you a man among men. Or..."

Meiko gave her husband a slight pat on
the shoulder.

Kagome glanced up. "Hey—it's Hikaru!"

Hikaru watched in dim terror as his parents
rose as one.

"Hikaru!" said Meiko. "We just heard!"

"We're so proud!" said Toshiro.

Hikaru gulped. Okay, so Kagome had blabbed.
Still this was about what he expected from his
parents' reaction to discovering their child was
a superhero—total pride. Mind you, he would
have gotten the same reaction if he'd declared
that he was a serial killer or a pimp.

Sometimes Hikaru really thought that his
parents took that whole 'unconditional love'
thing too far.

"President of your club!" they shouted
together.

Hikaru sighed in relief—which quickly
vanished as their arms wrapped around
him.

"We love you Hikaru!" they shouted.

Oh, crap. This was one of those times.
Hikaru winced. He had for years sorted
people into three broad groups—irritating,
tolerable, and Akane. His parents generally
were in the tolerable group. Generally.

"Guys," muttered Hikaru, "I find this very
uncomfortable."

"Hurray for Hikaru!" they shouted oblivious.

Hikaru began to squirm.

Ten minutes of contortions finally freed him
from his parents' embrace. Meiko shook her
head as Hikaru sat down for breakfast.
"Honestly Hikaru, I do wish you'd tell us
these things sometimes." She shook her
head. "You're just so touchy sometimes..."

Toshiro gave a pride-filled chuckle. "Now,
now Meiko, Hikaru's a normal young boy
with a normal young boy's need for privacy."

Hikaru sincerely wished that were the case.

"I understand what's it like," stated Toshiro
with a fond shake of the head. "To be young—
full of energy—surrounded by those who don't
understand you—by those who torment you—
but I SHOWED them. I showed them all! I'm
successful and happy, while most of them are
scrounging to keep together a pathetic
existence. HAHAHA!"

Meiko rolled here eyes. "Of course, darling."
She glanced at Inu-Yasha and Kagome and
whispered, "Don't worry—he just gets like
this sometimes..." She glanced at Kagome's
cup and smiled. "More tea, Miss Dageru?"

Kagome laughed. "Yes, please, Mrs.
Gosunkugi."

Hikaru finished up his marmalade-smothered
slice of toast, and shuddered. This was
getting genuinely disturbing. Kagome and
Inu-Yasha had not only managed to get into
the Gosunkugi household—his parents
apparently found them charming. A vision
flashed into his mind eyes—a vision of Kagome
and Inu-Yasha gradually imposing themselves
on his life until nothing that was his own remained.
It felt fairly inevitable.

Hikaru sighed and picked up his tea.

Suddenly, for the duration of one infinite
second, he felt a sensation of utter wrongness
as if he were imprisoned in cold damp glass.

Hikaru dropped his tea.

Everyone glanced at him.

Hikaru stood up suddenly.

"I just remembered some vital business," he
announced.

Kagome stood up. "Manga club business?"

"Umm, right," said Hikaru weakly.

Kagome nodded. "Right! Well, then, we'd
better get going! Inu-Yasha!"

Inu-Yasha glanced up resentfully. "But I'm
not done with my toast!"

Kagome glared at him. Inu-Yasha stood up.

Meiko looked at Kagome disapprovingly.
"Kagome! I thought you at least would treat
your friend with respect. Mutant or not, he is
still a human being..."

Kagome blinked. "It's meant as an affectionate
nickname!"

Inu-Yasha nodded. "Right..."

Meiko just sighed and shook her head.
"Teenagers." She looked at Hikaru. "I don't
see why this business can't wait until after
breakfast."

Hikaru started to the door. "Vital paperwork.
Necessary for the club's existence. Has to be
filled out now."

Meiko sighed as Hikaru and his friends headed
out the door. "Honestly, Toshiro—he really
needs to put some meat on those bones..."

Toshiro chuckled. "Hikaru's just energetic.
You remember what it was like to be young!"

His wife shuddered. "Please don't remind me..."

-----

Nabiki Tendou was, despite her best efforts,
not happy.

"Oh, God," said Yuka, putting down her bagel.
"I am stuffed!" She pushed her plate towards
Sayuri. "Here Sayuri, you finish it."

Sayuri pushed it away. "Oh, I'm also stuffed.
Here you try. I don't know if you're eating
enough these days..."

Nabiki sighed. *I am being paid for this,*
she reminded herself. Sometimes, she didn't
know whether to regard the sudden crime
wave in Tokyo (and Nerima in particular) as
a blessing or a curse. It had increased her
bodyguard services by 63%, but—well,
guarding Sayuri and Yuka meant watching
the eternal struggle for dominance between
the two—a struggle to claim the position of
"Most Desired Girl at Furinkan High". The
position tended to cycle between the two,
occasionally falling on some other girl at the
school. Nabiki found it very tiresome.
Sometimes she wished that a more—
obviously desirable girl existed to settle the
matter. She often thought that if Akane didn't
have such a grim attitude—and well, hadn't
been a cripple—she'd have claimed the
position in a heartbeat. *And the profits I
could rake in that way...* Nabiki thought
cheerfully. She shook her head. She might
as well wish that Akane were the one who
had to practice martial arts. Reality wasn't
going to change anytime soon.

"I'm telling you, my appetite was ruined
by that monster attack," stated Yuka.
"Why I'm still recovering from the trauma."

Sayuri snorted. "Come on, Yuka.
You've worn that story out." She
smiled. "I don't think it even happened."

"It did too!" shouted Yuka. "And
I was saved by a vampire superhero!"

Nabiki shut her eyes. If she weren't
hearing this conversation she'd have
a hard time believing it was happening.
Actually, she was still having a hard
time believing that.

But she also had a hard time believing
that a man named "Count Nefaria" had
tried to use the Tokyo Tower as the
transmitter for his Euthanoelectro Ray
last week, and that had also apparently
happened.

"Oh, like any superhero would bother
saving a girl like you..." muttered Sayuri.

"What does that mean?" asked Yuka
in offended tones.

"I think we both know what I mean,"
said Sayuri maliciously.

"Like you can judge!" Yuka retorted.
"I mean, all the boys, hanging around
you all the time, bumping into you,
calling your name..."

"Sayuri!" came a harsh voice.

"Just like that!" said Yuka.

"Sayuri..." came another voice,
a ghastly whisper.

"And that one too!" she noted. She
smiled at the stricken Sayuri. "Ha!
Dumbfounded you, didn't I? I can
tell by that shocked expression on
your face..."

Sayuri pointed over Yuka's
shoulder. Yuka turned around. "
Oh. I see." She gulped.

Standing in the doorway were two
hideous, almost broken forms. The
first was a black-haired man wearing
a golden devil mask, though a close
examination suggested the mask was
almost fused with his head. His arms
were covered in bulging muscle, and
ended in golden clawed gloves. While
his form seemed merely muscular at
first glance, the longer you looked at
it the more—unnatural it seemed, all
the mass and sinew seeming to ripple
unsteadily. But the worst thing was the
pentagram on his chest. It was dark
black, and it seemed to just absorb
and bend all the light that got near it.
The longer you looked at it the worse
it got.

The second figure was more openly
hideous, though he lacked his companion's
subtle horrors. He was an emaciated brown-
haired man, who seemed to have been withered
and mummified, his skin having the greyish
color of a preserved corpse. A pair of mechanical
hooks functioned for hands, while an eyepatch
covered his right eye.

"Sayuri!" said the first figure. "I claim you
now, I, Master Pandemonium, the most
amazing being in Nerima!"

"Hey," said the second figure. "I'm the
most amazing being in Nerima, so I'm
getting Sayuri."

"Are not!" said Master Pandemonium
taking a swing at his associate.

"Am too!" said the second figure,
turning immaterial and causing
Pandemonium's blow to pass right
through him, instead smashing a large
hole in the wall.

"Are not!" said Master Pandemonium.
"How can you be more amazing than I
am? You haven't even said your name
yet."

"Oh, right. I'm Hiroshi..."

"Your supervillain name, moron!"

Hiroshi slapped his forehead—an act
that was painful to watch as the metal
hook collided with shriveled flesh. "That's
right." He spread his arms and laughed
sinisterly. "I am the Ghost!"

"That name sucks!" cried Pandemonium.

"Does not!" shouted the Ghost, blasting
an ether ray at him.

"Does too!" shouted Pandemonium, as
the star in his chest seemingly absorbed
the energy.

"Oh, like yours is better Daisuke!"

Nabiki blinked, and stepped forward.
"Hiroshi...? Daisuke...?"

The pair shuddered. "Nabiki?" squeaked
Daisuke.

"What happened to you two?" she asked,
slightly fearful despite her efforts to remain
calm.

"Oh, we just sold our souls," answered
Hiroshi cheerfully. "We're soldiers in the
army of Hell now."

"Shut up!" cried Daisuke, releasing a
blast of hellfire.

Hiroshi turned immaterial again, causing
the blast to incinerate the table behind him.
"No, you shut up!"

"No, you!" shouted Daisuke. He pouted.
"Why are you trying to take Sayuri from
me? You know I love her!"

"Hey!" said Hiroshi fiercely. "I should be
asking you that!" Hiroshi gestured broadly
at the young women. "How about you just
take Yuka instead? She's pretty close to
Sayuri..."

"Would you take Yuka instead?" asked
Daisuke.

"Of course not," said Hiroshi. "I'm cooler
than you, 'cause I've got the eyepatch."

Nabiki readied herself. From the casual
displays of power the pair were showing
she doubted she could do much, but she
could probably distract them for a moment,
and then slip away herself. She glanced at
Yuka and Sayuri. "When I say go—go."

Daisuke was shaking his fist at Hiroshi. "For
the last time, I'm getting Sayuri..."

"That's what you think!" a voice shouted out.
A young man in Buddhist robes leaped into the
shop. With one dazzling spin of a long cane he
yanked Hiroshi to his feet, and then rolled in
front of Nabiki. "No maiden need fear evil on
the watch of—Miroku, the Devil-Slayer!" He
turned to Nabiki. "Quickly! Escape! I'll hold
them off!"

Nabiki glared at him. "How? Thanks to you,
they're pretty focused on us right now—and
they're blocking the exit..."

Miroku coughed nervously. "Oh. Right."
He blinked. "Well, let's work something out..."
Suddenly he knocked all three of the young
women to the ground. A blast of energy
knocked out the wall behind them. "There.
See. An alternate escape route. I told you I'd
take care of things."

Nabiki glared at him as she ran out the
hole into the back alley. She'd heard
about superheroes, of course, but
somehow Mr. Devil-Slayer did not strike
her as one of the top members of the
business.

-----

"Okay, where are we goin'?" Inu-Yasha was
following Kagome, who was following Hikaru,
who seemed to be following some strange thing
that lay in the magical land of being Hikaru.

"Somewhere else," Hikaru replied.

Inu-Yasha snarled. There it was again—another
example of why Hikaru irritated him. Say
anything to him and he gave you some curt
joke of an answer that made you look like
an idiot. And just like an idiot, Inu-Yasha
found himself stepping up to the bait.
"But where exactly?"

"The place that we're going to, of
course," Hikaru stated in a monotone.

Inu-Yasha glanced away the resentment
clear on his face. "Can't I get a straight
answer out of you...?"

Hikaru glanced back. "Look, if you
must know, I'm not sure myself.
Some thing has left behind a trail,
and I'm following it..."

Inu-Yasha laughed. "You expect me
to believe that? I can't smell anything..."

Hikaru shut his eyes. "Look, I know
your senses are very, very good Inu-
Yasha but the fact is I've got more of
them, so I'm going to pick up on things
you can't sometimes, simple as that."

Inu-Yasha snorted, and muttered
something to himself inaudibly.

"And no, I am not," stated Hikaru.

Inu-Yasha was about to mutter
something else, but decided against
it. "Look, I just don't think yer followin'
the right..."

At that point, a panicked group rushed by
them. "Oh my god!" shouted one man.
"Supervillains! On the rampage! And they're
destroying Tokyo!"

"It's worse than Godzilla!" cried another.

"Nothing's worse than Godzilla!" stated the
first man. "He remains the epitome of destruction!"

"True," said the other, "but Godzilla will usually
move on with little prompting! Supervillains on
the other hand stay in an area, decimating it fairly
steadily!"

"I'll grant you that!" said the first man. "But
Godzilla's destructive power far exceeds that
of the average supervillain! Thus he requires
less time!"

"The average supervillain, I grant you," said
the other, "but these days we're facing a new
breed. Why do realize that supervillains exist
now whose might equals that of atomic bombs?
Or a particle ray...?" The debate continued as
the participants traveled out of sight.

Hikaru glanced at Inu-Yasha. "Yep. I'm
definitely barking up the wrong tree..."

Inu-Yasha snarled. "Why do you have to
turn everything into a joke?"

"You just make it so easy, I can't resist,"
shrugged Hikaru.

Kagome watched as at the panicked mob
faded from view, clearly puzzled. "Umm—Dr.
Strange—how come nobody seems to notice us?"

"Why should they? We're not their business," said
Hikaru. "I've got us traveling under their threshold
of notice..." Hikaru smiled. "You see people have
a tendency to ignore what they view as unimportant.
Like the feeling of shoes on their feet. Or bills with

a little time left to pay them. And what we choose
to ignore—does not exist for us."

Kagome glanced at her feet, mystified. "Wow."
She glanced up. "So we're invisible?"

Hikaru shook his head. "This is better than
invisibility for most day-to-day things. Invisibility
just means you can't be seen—people still hear,
smell and feel you. Traveling under the threshold
of notice, you could walk through a crowd
singing at the top of your lungs, eating Limburger
cheese, and jostling people as you went, and as
long as you didn't stay in one place to long, or
tried to pick a fight with someone, no one would
notice you. The Ancient One said I had a knack
for it."

"Neat!" Kagome nudged Inu-Yasha in the ribs.
"Isn't that neat?"

Inu-Yasha glared at her quietly. "Yeah. Super."

"We're very close..." noted Hikaru, walking
forward. "I can feel it." He frowned. "Someone's
cut a deal with a devil..."

Kagome glanced around. She also felt—something,
a sort of vague nausea, as if there was a bad odor
in the air. "Black magic..." she whispered.

Hikaru shook his head. "That takes skill. I use it
myself, actually. The Black is just being touch in
the darker side of life—not pleasant but necessary.
It requires discipline, effort and skill. Diabolism
is—
well, a lot easier. On the surface of things,
anyway..."

"You use black magic?" said Kagome quietly.

"It's a tool—a dangerous tool but so is the
White." Hikaru shrugged. "Magic's a lot less
pleasant than is commonly believed."

-----

Miroku didn't want to admit it, but he was in
trouble. A great deal of trouble. His opponents
overpowered him by a rather sizable margin,
and were willing to use said power a great deal.

"Die, Devil-Slayer!" exclaimed Hiroshi.

An ether blast ripped through the air near him,
demolishing the wall next to him as he danced
out of the way.

"You missed, idiot!" shouted Daisuke.

"Moron!" replied Hiroshi.

"Jerk!"

"Moron!"

"You said that already!"

"Moron!"

Fortunately the pair were somewhat lacking
in brains and ability, but Miroku knew that it
would take only one hit for him to be enjoying
Buddha's mercy firsthand. He'd have to end
this fight quickly. He took a deep breath. It
was now or never. Twirling his staff, he rushed
forward and swung at Hiroshi. The Ghost
dissolved slightly, the staff passing through
his immaterial form.

"Booya!" shouted Hiroshi.

"Booya?" muttered Daisuke irritatedly.
"That isn't even a word!" He fired a horde
of winged demons at Hiroshi.

"Is so!" shouted Hiroshi, evaporating
the demons and several small cars.

"Is not, is not, is not!" screamed Daisuke,
the building behind him bursting into flames.

"Okay, okay, it's not really a word,"
admitted Hiroshi, "but it's close."

"Things aren't close to being words!"
shouted Daisuke. "They either are or
they aren't!"

"Face my wrath, evil-doers!" cried
Miroku as he made another charge
forward.

"Hey! Stay out of this," said Hiroshi
tossing Miroku against the wall. "This
isn't your business."

Daisuke sighed. "Actually we are
trying to kill him."

Hiroshi laughed in embarrassment.
"Oh, that's right! My bad." He cupped
a claw to his mouth. "Sorry about that!"

Nabiki glanced at Miroku quietly. "You
know, you're really cutting a bad figure
as a dashing hero."

Miroku rubbed his head. "I consider
these sub par conditions..."

"What—fighting an opponent?"

Miroku gave a deep sigh. "Do the
heroic efforts of the brave go
unappreciated in this city?"

Nabiki shrugged. "I make a few
thousand yen a week..."

"Is that before or after taxes?"
asked Miroku.

"Well, I don't list it, as it is more or
less disposable in—" Nabiki paused
and then shook her head. "Look, I'd
love to compare notes with you, but
we've got bigger problems..." she
noted pointing to the rampaging
Daisuke and Hiroshi.

Miroku's hand went to his gauntlet.
"Right. I see. Much as I may want to
avoid it, I must call upon my terrible
secret weapon."

"Hey! Up on the roof!" cried Yuka.
"It's the superhero that saved me!
Baron Blood!"

"Oh, ri—" began Sayuri. "Hey, wait,
there is a superhero up there."

"Calling upon my superhero allies,"
announced Miroku, his hand lowering.

"That doesn't sound very terrible,"
noted Nabiki.

"That is purely a matter of subjective
opinion," replied Miroku. "After all
you don't know these people..."

Nabiki glanced up at the alleged
superhero, then blinked. "Gosunkugi...?"

-----

Hikaru Gosunkugi stood there
surveying the scene and considering
things.

"Okay, on the one hand, I can let a
pair of idiots go on destroying the
neighborhood. On the other, I can
save Nabiki." He shook his head.
"Man, talk about your lose-lose situations."

Inu-Yasha glowered at him. "Yeah, well
take yer time..." he said. "Jackass," he
added quietly.

"Now's not the time for rudeness," noted
Hikaru.

Kagome started. "Hey that's Miroku! Look,
Inu-Yasha! It's Miroku! He wasn't blown up
like we thought!"

Hikaru glanced at her. "You know the guy
with the staff?"

"Yep!" chirped Kagome. "You see back in
Feudal Times..."

"It can wait," said Hikaru.

"I'll give you the short version," said Kagome
eagerly.

"Listen, when I say 'It can wait' what I mean
is 'I don't particularly care'."

"Oh."

Hikaru waved. "Now, let's go."

"Decided to move?" said Inu-Yasha snarkily.

"I like this street," said Hikaru. "I like it being
here. I'm silly and emotional that way."

-----

Miroku was knocking back stray bits of rubble
from Daisuke's and Hiroshi's attacks on each
other.

"Jerk!"

"Double-jerk!"

For a pair of supervillains who mostly fought among
themselves, he noted, they caused a great deal of
damage to the area around them.

Behind Miroku, a rather heated discussion was
going on.

"I'm telling you—that's Hikaru Gosunkugi!" said
Nabiki.

"Oh, that's ridiculous," said Sayuri.

"Right!" said Yuka. "Are you trying to tell us we
don't know what we're seeing?"

"What you're seeing is Hikaru! Hikaru Gosunkugi!"

"Don't be silly!" said Sayuri forcefully. "That man
is wearing a cape! Hikaru does not wear a cape.
Ergo, that man is not Hikaru Gosunkugi."

Yuka nodded in agreement.

Nabiki suppressed an urge to scream. What made
it worse was that niggling little voice in her head
that kept suggesting that she was wrong—that
this wasn't Hikaru Gosunkugi... She shook her
head.

Somehow, this all felt very wrong.

"Look!" said Yuka. "He's leaping down!"

Nabiki looked up at the (possible) (no, damn it,
probable) Gosunkugi who was floating down
with a sort of spooky elegance. Nabiki shook
her head. Okay, maybe it wasn't Gosunkugi.
"By the might of the Vishanti, I—"

At that moment a reddish blur carrying a yellowish
blur sped past him. A high clear voice emanated
from the blur. "Attention servants of ickiness!
Prepare to face the anti-icky forces of HELLCAT
AND SON OF SATAN!"

"You idiots!" screamed the cape-wearing superhero
who looked suspiciously like Gosunkugi.

Hiroshi glanced up. "Hey! More superheroes!" He
raised his hand. A blast of energy tore through the
air.
The Gosunkugi look-alike pushed ahead, and set a
glowing shield over his allies.

At the impact, the three superheroes were knocked
backwards and fell into a jumbled heap against the
wall.

Miroku was suddenly doubting his chances of
survival. Nabiki suddenly thought that it might
just be Gosunkugi after all.

-----

Hikaru raised himself unsteadily, as he
disentangled himself, and started to shake
his fists. "Damn it! Don't you two ever listen?
I said to hold back! To hold back!"

Kagome pouted at him. "We were just trying
to help..."

"How does nearly getting turned into a pair
of soot marks help me? How?" Hikaru paused.
"No, wait, don't answer that, I can think of a
ew ways it does..."

Inu-Yasha stood up suddenly and began to
ready his arm as if he were going to throw
a punch. "HEY—!"

Miroku's rushing up to his side and
grabbing his hand to shake it stopped
what would probably have been a
devastating blow. "Inu-Yasha? Kagome?
How...?"

Kagome gave Miroku a confidential
look. "Shh. We're superheroes. Pretend
you don't know us."

Miroku gave a nod. "Of course."

Daisuke swatted Hiroshi on the back
of the head. "You idiot! You missed!"

"Uh-uh! He blocked!"

"Same thing!" said Daisuke. "You should
have let me do it!"

"No way! I'm cooler than you! I've got
the eyepatch!"

Yuka waved at Hikaru. "Hi, Baron Blood.
Remember me?"

"It's Dr. Strange," said Hikaru rubbing his
temples, "and unfortunately, yes, I do."

"Ha!" said Yuka to Sayuri. "You owe me
two hundred yen..."

"Right, right..." Suddenly Sayuri smiled in
triumph. "Hey wait, you got his name wrong!
That means I don't have to pay!"

Hikaru sighed, and then glanced over at the
quarreling supervillains. "Now, correct me if
I'm wrong, but are those guys Hiroshi and Daisuke?"

Sayuri nodded. "Yep. Apparently they've
resorted to evil to try and win my heart. I'm
actually kind of flattered."

Hikaru shook his head. There were times he
thought the world had gone mad.

And there were times he knew.

Nabiki walked over to him and waved an
intimidating fist under his face. "Admit it!
You're Hikaru Gosunkugi!"

Hikaru gave the only answer he could think
of on short notice. "Who?"<