Some of you might remember my Shampoo-Mousse story, from a few
months ago. I was somewhat surprised by the number of requests to continue
that one. I guess people kinda like me.
	Unfortunately, that fic isn't one to be continued. It wrote itself
out for me...and I preferred to leave the rest to the imagination.
However, I did become compelled during Spring Break to start on another
one, something more comprehensive, somewhat more serious, and in the end,
probably nothing like "Mousse, Version 2.0". I've gotten a little bit of
it done now, and I'd like some input. For some reason, I'm having
difficulty with connecting certain things in the second part, and leading
into the next part (which I haven't included).
	Did I say a Shampoo and Mousse fic? You decide.


"Three Sixty" by Andrew Huang

<...>: thoughts
*...*: sounds
[...]: miscellany

  I'll leave it up to you to decide where and when the characters are
speaking in Japanese or Mandarin.

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The Day the Music Died

  She doesn't love you. She never loved you!
  No...no! I refuse to listen to you!
  Why do you persist? After all, she's always just driven you away.
  I can still win her. I know it. I know!
  You delude yourself.
  She doesn't love you. She never loved you!
  But--but!
  But what?
  She despises you.
  She wants nothing to do with you.
  No....
  Yes.
  She 
  does
  not
  love
  you
  .
  She....
  She....
  She doesn't love me.
  "She doesn't love me."

  Mousse lay awake in his bed, drenched in sweat. The whispers of his
dream still echoed unceasingly in his mind. The warm sunlight that
danced over his face did nothing to illuminate the dark of his room.

  "Shampoo...."

  Only one thing left to do.

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I've Fallen, and I Won't Get Up

  Exasperated. Yes, that would be the word for it.

  Shampoo stared at the letter that Mousse dropped off in front of her
door. He was going to fight her for her hand in marriage. Again. <That
blind moron never learns, does he?>

  Ah, it was no major concern. She'd beat him like always. She just
wished that there was some way for her to make him stop doing this,
short of killing him. For all the irritation he brought her, she was not
ever going to do any permanent harm to Mousse. He was, after all, a
long-time friend.

  Just a wee bit too friendly for her liking.

  <Three o'clock. Six hours, huh? At least he waits until after the 
lunch rush.>

  She tucked away the letter and began preparing for the day.

------------------------------------------------

[3:04]

  Shampoo wiped the bit of blood from her lip as she stepped back from
Mousse. This was definitely Not Good.

  Who would have thought that he'd keep his glasses tied around his head
this time? That was one advantage gone; she wasn't able to knock the
specs from his face. And why was he seeing better this time, anyway? It
was as if he had gotten a different, stronger prescription or something.
Dammit.

  It sure didn't help that he had suddenly decided that he _would_ hurt
her. The barrages of weights and chains weren't meant to just tie her
up. There had been some head shots there, if she wasn't mistaken. At
least the edges and bombs hadn't been coming out. Yet.

  He was giving a lot more than he got, too. Shampoo had tagged him a
few times, but he just rolled with the bonbori strikes. He barely seemed
bruised.

  One the sidelines, a wise, old pair of eyes watched. Cologne couldn't
believe those eyes. Mousse was clearly winning...and holding back, as
well. She was sure that he could have already won by now, if he had
chosen to. So, why didn't he?

  Shampoo again charged at Mousse, who, for a moment, did nothing. Then,
he jumped straight up, and lashed out with his white swan potty trainer,
right at Shampoo's right bonbori. It flew from her hand, backwards,
swatting her on the forehead. She staggered and dropped to her knees,
desperately fighting for her balance. Mousse landed in front of her and
swung a length of chain around her torso, entrapping her right arm. Then
he stood there. Again.

  Shampoo struggled briefly with the chain, to no avail. She climbed to
her feet, swaying a bit; that impact had cost her. She was going to
lose. To Mousse.

  To put it mildly, that was a distasteful outcome.

  Shampoo grit her teeth. She wasn't going to go down easily. Not to
him, not of all people. Definitely not. Though she knew that it wasn't
going to be much of an attack, she was still going to go down fighting,
all the way to the end. The Joketsuzoku tend to be a proud lot.

  Shampoo started on a futile charge towards Mousse. With all the chain
around her, the pain from the hit, her weariness, and Mousse's lack of
the above, this was really just meaningless.

  She drew nearer to him, rearing her left arm back, still clutching the
other mace, and started to swing. It was an almost laughable attempt.
For the Average Nerima Martial Artist, she was moving abominably slow.
Anyone could have dodged her strike. Mousse would, surely. She thought
she saw him crack a smile just before she reached him. The first sign of
any emotion during the entire fight. A taunt, no doubt.

  But Mousse didn't move.

  It was with great surprise that Shampoo found herself connecting
solidly with Mousse's jaw. She saw him fly backwards, his arms going
limp and releasing the chain still wrapped around her. He smashed into a
pile of boxes just behind, crumpling into an unsightly heap.

  Cologne stared. There he was, about to win the prize he sought for
most of his life, and he just threw it away. It went beyond the
understanding of the Amazonian matriarch.

  Shampoo gaped. She had been as good as his. Just step to the side,
push her arm away, and knock her a good one on the head. Then he would
have won. But no, he just took the punch, and was now lying out cold
there. Mousse lost, and on purpose.

  Shampoo snapped her mouth closed, whirled away, and strode back to the
restaurant. Internally, her thoughts were warring insanely with each
other, trying to fathom what had just happened. Outwardly, she resolved
not to let that confusion show.

  The Joketsuzoku tend to be a proud lot.

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	Future plans: well, of course, the Shampoo-Mousse confrontation
just after this part...should I have Mousse leave the Nekohanten for a
while? That's one of the main plot drivers I'm debating.

>From Andrew Huang, Taiwanese-American-German-Scot Harvard Student :P
Brought to you by his computer, Oddzilla
Oddzilla says, "Ryouga and Ukyou! Ukyou and Ryouga!"
http://www.hcs.harvard.edu/~alhuang/
Kurimoto Shiro's manager, DBTFH; Harvard Anime Society, Secretary