Well, since a certain member of the FFML is determined to turn the list into
a random Dartboard O' Ideas, I thought I'd up the ante in True Lurker
Fashion...

...so here is virtually every half-baked excuse for a random fanfic idea
I've ever concocted but never actually wrote an entire chapter of, all in
one massive, diarrhea-like spew. (There's a handful I won't put here, either
because they're not anime-related, or because they're TOO random and
sketchy...)

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the series represented in any of the below,
and I don't expect any of this to make sense. Also, don't expect me to
actually get around to *writing* any of this shit anytime soon. Some of it's
been gathering dust on my hard drive for five or six YEARS.

Oh, and C&C if you really want to. ^_^ In fact, I encourage it. Really. I'd
love LOTS AND LOTS of responses to this. ^_^ I mean, I'm basically doing
this to be a drama queen, right? ^_-


1. Untitled Conan fic -- archived locally as "Conan and Satou on a plane"


"Are you sure you'll be okay, Conan-kun?"

"I'll be fine, Ran-neechan! Don't worry, I've flown by myself before."

It was true, he had. Just not as Edogawa Conan.

Truthfully, the prospect was making him slightly nervous. He knew he could
handle himself, but his diminished stature and recent incidents of
humiliating helplessness had him rather on edge.

*I wish Haibara had let me have one of those one-day pills for this,* he
thought ruefully.

Then again, he'd survived that stupid incident with the Sky Japan flight
that nearly ended in disaster because of a murderess with stupendously bad
timing, so...

Ran smiled down at him, setting his suitcase on the conveyer belt. "Well, if
you're sure. You have your ticket?"

"Un!"

The tall girl smiled sadly down at him and ruffled his hair. "I'll miss
you."

Conan blushed. "It's only for a couple of weeks. I do need to see my parents
once in a while, you know." *Yeah, right, seeing as they left me all alone
for THREE WHOLE YEARS...*

"I know, I know."

"I'll call lots!"

"Hai! Oh...remember the--"

"Time difference, yeah, I know."

Ran giggled. "It's going to be so quiet without you around."

The small boy smiled. "I'll see you in a few weeks, Ran-neechan."

"Hai. Have a safe trip, Conan-kun. Ja ne."

They stood looking at one another for a while, then Conan turned,
shouldering his small rucksack, and passed through the metal detector after
depositing his wristwatch in the tray.

Ran watched him for a long moment, then turned and left the airport.

* * * * * * * * *

//Attention please. Flight 489 to Los Angeles with service to Honolulu now
boarding. Please report to gate 16B to board this flight.//

Satou Miwako hurried her pace down the airport corridor, cursing herself for
dallying at the phones. Her high heels clicked and stuttered on the floor;
she briefly contemplated removing them until she boarded the plane, just in
case, but decided to take her chances. *That was a stupid move, wearing
heels to the airport...*

Soon enough, she was at the gate, and immediately entered the boarding
queue. She paid little attention to her surroundings as she boarded, quickly
finding her seat and stowing her carry-on bag. As she began thumbing through
the safety literature, however, a voice made her start:

"Satou-san! You're going on this plane too?"

She blinked, and looked up...

"Conan-kun?"

The boy smiled at her, then shifted uncomfortably. "Ano...could you help me
put away my bag?"

Satou smiled. "Sure." She took the boy's rucksack and tucked it in the
overhead compartment. He thanked her, then plopped down in the middle seat
next to her. "You're going to America, Conan-kun?"

"Hai! I'm spending a few weeks with my parents. What about you?"

"I'm only going as far as Hawaii. An old college friend of mine moved there,
and she's getting married, so I'm going to her wedding, and I've decided to
take a week's vacation time as long as I'm going to be there."

Conan smiled. "Lucky! Hawaii's a lot of fun. My dad took me there when I was
little." He paused. "Littler."

Satou laughed. "Your parents sound interesting. I almost wish I was going
all the way to Los Angeles to--" She was interrupted by Conan's phone
ringing.

"Aa, gomen!" Conan unclipped his phone from his belt and opened it.
"Moshi-moshi?" He listened for a moment, then frowned. "Oi oi, you sure?
...wait, what do you mean 'we're already here'? When did you decide--kuso,
tousan no yarou...hai, hai, wakkata. Alright, I'll look for you. Just make
sure my bag doesn't go all the way to Los Angeles, alright? Thanks."

Satou raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"

Conan sighed. "Last-minute change in plans. My parents are in Hawaii now,
and I'll be spending the entire time with them there."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"Oh, it's not. I just wish they'd tell me these things in advance, or at
least not make different plans at the last minute." He sighed. "They can be
a real pain in the--" He caught himself, and rubbed the back of his head
nervously. "Ah, gomen gomen!"

Satou laughed. "I completely understand. My mother's the exact same way."
She smiled. "Well, it's lucky, isn't it?"

Conan blinked. "Eh?"

"I was just saying I wish I could go with you to meet your parents, and now
I can!"

Conan's eyes widened. *Oh, CRAP!* He gritted his teeth in frustration.

Satou tilted her head. "Eh? Conan-kun?"

"Ah, betsu ni..." Conan rubbed the back of his head again.
*Chikushou...Tousan, Kaasan...I hope for your sakes you two are in disguise
when I get there...*

* * * * * * * * *

2. AMS/HP: "The Goddess of Gryffindor"

Frustration, for a goddess, is rare.

Well, it's rare for one goddess in particular.

Belldandy, middle of the three Norns, Goddess of the Present, was
presently...frustrated.

Astonishingly enough, it wasn't her mortal boyfriend's nervous reluctance to
deepen their relationship that was the source of her present frustration.
Although *that* was always simmering on the back burner. No, what had
Belldandy at wit's end for the moment...

"Skuld. Dearest little sister. You're not even *trying*."

(She certainly *is* trying. My patience.)

"Gomen ne, oneesama."

Across the room, Urd snorted derisively. "Give it up, Bell. You're never
gonna squeeze any magic outta THAT brat."

THAT wasn't helping matters either.

Belldandy sighed. "Urd, you're not being fair. Skuld has it inside her.
She's a goddess, after all. She just..." She sighed.

Skuld looked down, eyes watering. She hated to see Belldandy
disappointed--particularly if it was with her. "Gomen nasai..."

"The problem," Belldandy suddenly announced, "is your fascination with all
those mecha and gadgets." She paused for a moment, tapping her bottom lip
with one slender finger. "Yes...we need to get you away from technology,
Skuld."

Skuld gasped. "B-but...oneesama...!"

"She's right, kiddo," Urd commented. "You get bored with magic lessons
because all you want to do is play with your little toys."

"Oneesan," Belldandy began, "Is that mortal school in the Celtic lands still
there?"

Urd blinked. "Hog's Warthe? The school Godric Gryffindor and his friends
started?"

"Yes, that's right."

The tanned goddess frowned. "I'd have to check, but I'm fairly sure it is.
The mortals had powers in those days..." She trailed off, smiling. "Sad to
see it all disappeared."

"Yes, in favor of science and technology," Belldandy agreed. "The magic left
the mortals' lives. But if some of that magic is still around..."

Urd grinned. "You're a genius, Bell."

Skuld looked between her sisters, brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you
two...?"

"How would you like to go to school with mortals your own age, Skuld-chan?"
Belldandy asked.

"School?!" Skuld made a face. "But I already know Japanese and English and
math and--"

"Not that kind of school," Belldandy cut across her. "A different kind of
school." Her eyes twinkled. "A school that teaches magic."

Skuld's eyes widened.

******************************

Albus Dumbledore was a man who, after one hundred and fifty years of life,
did not surprise easily.

"I'm sorry. I'm not entirely sure I heard correctly."

The young women seated across from him had rather successfully shocked the
elderly wizard.

"You did indeed hear correctly, honored elder," the fair-skinned,
sandy-haired young woman said. All around the office, the paintings of the
previous Headmasters, normally feigning slumber in the presence of visitors,
were eyeing this woman--as well as her companion--very curiously. Fawkes was
perched on her hand, receiving absent but affectionate strokes. He was also
eyeing her companion rather distastefully.

The other woman had deeply tanned skin, sultry eyes, and long, luscious
platinum hair. Both women bore distinctive facial markings--markings which
identified them as creatures Dumbledore had not been certain existed, but
whom had been readily identified by several of the portraits in the room.
Two of them had even known the women by name, and one had blushed rather
heavily at the greeting of the darker-skinned woman.

Dumbledore steepled his long, thin fingers. "The two of you are, as my
esteemed colleagues and forebears confirm, goddesses. Of the Norse pantheon,
no less, and the goddesses of the Past and Present. And you have a sister, a
third goddess, the goddess of the Future, whom none in this room have ever
met. And you wish..."

"To have our younger sister come here, to Hog's Warthe, to learn magic."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "The school has not gone by that name in over
four hundred years," he said pleasantly. "It is currently known simply as
Hogwarts. As to your request..." He frowned. "I am afraid to admit I am at a
loss as to why a goddess would need to be instructed in magic by mortals."

The two goddesses glanced at one another hesitantly, as though in communion
about what to say. Finally, the fairer goddess, Belldandy, spoke. "Our
sister, Skuld, has embraced the ways of the modern world. Her passion lies
in science and technology--the devices of progress, and away from tradition
and the ways of old."

Dumbledore nodded suddenly. "Ah. I understand now. You cannot remove her
from her more modern methods of madness, be it in Heaven or here on Earth,
so you wish to further her education in the one place where no technology
will function."

The goddesses blinked. "Actually, we weren't even aware of that," Belldandy
admitted. "I'm afraid neither of us have been around these parts in a *very*
long time. We just thought a more isolated environment would be good for
Skuld."

"But if this place really turns off all that crap she plays with, so much
the better," Urd said with a smirk.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Indeed. Very well...it is rather out
of the ordinary, but under the circumstances...I believe an exception can be
made."

Belldandy rose and bowed deeply. "I thank you, honored elder."

The Headmaster stood and returned her bow. "No thanks are necessary, blessed
Goddess. I am only pleased to be at your service."


3. Untitled AMS/Azumanga


Kurosawa Minamo heaved a tired, frustrated sigh as she adjusted her blouse
and gave her hair one last pass with the towel. *Some days,* she thought to
herself, *it just doesn't pay to be here.*

She'd begun dreading swimming class. She liked the girls from Yukari's
class; they were good girls. And Kagura, who had been one of her own, was
among them now. She felt a kinship with the tanned girl.

The problem with Yukari's class was...well...Yukari.

Sometimes, she wondered why she continued to put up with the woman after so
many years. There was absolutely nothing redeemable about her. She was lazy,
selfish, arrogant, rude, snappish, pushy, a lush, and got off on the
misfortunes of others.

And those were her GOOD points.

Yet, for some reason, against all logic, the two had remained close friends
since high school. Looking at Tomo and Yomi, she sometimes felt she was
looking at herself and Yukari; she fully expected Yomi to be having these
thoughts about Tomo one day.

As happened far too often--and not for the first time, she found herself
wondering why the school administration never put a stop to it--Yukari had
suddenly barged in during swimming class, intent on selfishly taking
advantage of the school pool, neglecting her teaching duties and leaving her
students to fend for themselves.

And of course, there was the OTHER turd in the pool. Kimura. Minamo
shuddered. Today had gone downhill in a spectacular manner, and his
appearance had thrown gasoline on a raging inferno.

It started when Chiyo timidly asked for a reprieve from class that
afternoon. The young girl was very shy and nervous as she attempted to
explain, and having seen this sort of behaviour often enough, Minamo had
reasoned out the problem and was prepared to let Chiyo off for the day. Then
Tomo came along and announced--loudly, so that probably the entire campus
could hear--that Chiyo was having her period.

What could only be described as an uncontrollable rambling discussion of
feminine personal hygiene had followed, despite her best efforts to wrest
control of the class. Then Yukari had made her appearance, cottoned on to
the topic at hand, and began sharing a very embarassing anecdote...

And then Kimura had shown up. All told, it was a miracle nobody was maimed.

Minamo had just slung the towel over her shoulder and rounded the corner to
enter the staff room, when a taller woman appeared in her path, causing her
to stop short. Her eyes widened.

"Oneesan..." she breathed.

The woman, whose skin and hair bespoke of a distinctly gaijin ancestry, and
who wore a simple blouse and skirt ensemble bordering on frumpy, smiled
beatifically. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Skuld-chan?"

******

4. Untitled Conan: tentatively titled "Ten Years"


"Touchan! Pass!"

"Hai!"

The day had dawned cloudy and wet, but by noon, the sun had come out,
burning away the last of the morning drizzle and baking the ground, leaving
the grass of the park green, damp, and spongey. The perfect day for a family
outing in the park, and an impromptu game of soccer with some old friends.

Friends who, he lamented, he couldn't talk of 'old times' with, because they
didn't associate him with the person who used to be one of their gang.

But...that didn't really matter. He'd forged a new friendship with them, and
his son liked them well enough. The seven-year-old boy, his spiky brown hair
tousled and his bright blue-grey eyes shining with excitement, deftly
intercepted the speeding soccer ball with his foot, kicking it forward and
chasing after it, laughing as the older kids downfield moved to block him.

Off to the side, sitting on a picnic basket, remains of a large lunch
scattered around her, his wife sat watching their game and smiling, a sunhat
with a pink ribbon casting cool shade over her laughing eyes.

Sometimes, he had trouble believing almost ten years had passed since the
laughter had returned to those eyes--in his heart, he still remembered the
pain and longing he'd created there; the year of suffering and torment she
went through, he'd give anything to take away.

Of course, he did the best he could, now, as he had for the last ten years,
to mitigate the sins of the worst year of their lives. They were happy,
their son was vital and healthy and as smart as both of his parents
combined...

Life was very, very good.

"Koichi!" he called out. "Go right! You're about to get...nevermind." He
laughed as his son went tumbling end-over-end across the grass, having
slipped on a particularly wet patch of grass directly in his path. *He
really should've noticed that grass was wet...I'll need to work with him on
that.*

His wife had immediately rushed to the boy's side, frowning at his reaction;
Koichi stood up, brushed himself off, and laughed, rubbing the back of his
head. He smiled; everything seemed to be going

PAIN!

What...?

PAIN!

No. NO!

PAIN!

GOD NO! IT ISN'T POSSIBLE!

GET AWAY!

THIS ISN'T HAPPENING! IT ISN'T HAPPENING!

CAN'T LET HER SEE!!

Ran...I never told you...and now...

...but...why? Ten years...dammit, it was OVER! It was

PAAAAAAAAAIN!!

"Shinichi? SHINICHI?!"

"What's wrong with him, neechan?"

"Ayumi-chan, call for an ambulance!"

"Hai!"

"This is bad. He's burning up!"

"Yow! He's too hot to touch! I think he's actually on fire!"

"Genta-kun!"

"Shinichi...what...?"

"Touchan..."

....

....

....

"He's...what the hell?"

"Touchan's...shrinkin'..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The first thing he saw when he awoke was a crowd of blurry faces amid a sea
of white. He blinked up at them, noticing the worried, confused, anxious,
and even angry expressions.

Definitely angry. Particularly HER. She was VERY angry.

Worried, yes. But angry.

Not good.

"Well...glad to see you're finally awake. Conan-kun."

VERY not good.

"Ah...um...aheh..."

"Touchan? Why'd you get little? You're littler than me..."

Shinichi blinked. "Eh? That can't be right. I should at least be--"

"Exactly the same as you were ten years ago," Mitsuhiko said. "EXACTLY the
same."

"Conan-ku...iie, Shinichi-niichan..." Ayumi began, hurt and confusion in her
eyes. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Better question. Why didn't you tell *ME*?"

Yep, Ran was EXTREMELY pissed.


5. Untitled AMS/Rockman.EXE


"So how's NekomiNet looking, Rockman?"

"Kinda boring, actually," replied the synthesized voice from the blue
plastic device situated in a charging dock on a small desk in an untidy
bedroom. "I haven't seen any other Navis around, or even any other programs.
Heck, there's not even a virus here."

"Really? Wow. A totally dead area, huh?" Hikari Netto sat down, placing his
sandwich and soda on the desk near his keyboard. He rarely used the standard
input devices for his computer; like most other people in Densan, he relied
primarily on his NetNavi for everything from composing e-mail to browsing
online news, and even shopping for battle chips.

Recently, he'd stopped to help a college girl fix a problem with her
motorcycle. A virus had gotten into the onboard computer, and wreaked havoc
on her fuel injectors and brakes. It was a miracle she didn't get hurt when
she lost control of the bike. Luckily, the virus causing the malfunctions
had been relatively weak, and he and Rockman had taken care of it easily. In
gratitude, the girl had given him a link to a newly-established network
operating out of a small technical college.

It was a peaceful enough network, but...

Netto sighed. "Well, I guess there's nothing to do there yet. Go ahead and
plug out, Rockman."

"Got it. I'm sure there'll be something better here later."

"Yeah."

******

A dark figure shrouded in a tattered brown cloak silently approached a lone
tree, a tree which stood conspiciously in a place where it should not exist.

The figure looked the tree over intently, searching for something, brow
furrowed, mouth set in a hard line. At length, he nodded. "The key is not
present...but perhaps I can draw out the key..."

One hand emerged from the folds of the cloak, pointed at an
innocuous-looking symbol engraved in the floor tiles along the corner of the
path. A blast of energy erupted from his palm, shattering the tile.
Something in the air changed, twisted. Nodding in satisfaction, he repeated
the procedure in three other places.

Then, with a foreboding smile, Forte drew his cloak tightly about him and
vanished.

************

Skuld stared around her, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead.
"Neechan...I could REALLY use some help right now..."

Alas, she knew that help might not be coming. The sudden swarm of bugs had
effectively made a hash of the travel conduits; no god or goddess could be
certain they would arrive where they intended to through normal travel. She
could only hope the Almighty would arrange some emergency travel and bring
her sisters to her side.

Though at this point, she reflected grimly as she shifted her grip on her
mallet, two more goddesses might not be enough...

"ROCKBUSTER!"

Suddenly, the five bugs nearest her exploded in bright flashes of light. The
swarm turned, and her eyes followed their attention to the figure which had
just appeared in the smoking hole in the wall of the system control room.
Even with her special goggles, she couldn't pick any details out of the
silhouette, and before enough of the smoke cleared to let her see, the new
arrival leapt high into the air, vanishing from sight. Three more shots
picked off three more bugs, and the remainder began to twitch, tracking the
attacker with beady eyes.

"Who's there?" Skuld called plaintively.

She just barely heard the voice of her potential rescuer, though she was
fairly certain the next words were not directed at her. "It's no
good...there's too many of them! I need more firepower!"

Skuld's eyes widened as a new voice echoed from all around them, booming yet
somehow sounding...transmitted?

"Okay, you got it! Attack mode battle chip, Shotgun! Slot-in!"

There was a sudden flash of yellow from above, and Skuld yelped and pressed
herself against the wall as a dizzying barrage of streaks of white light
rained down on the bug swarm. Five, ten, a dozen bugs vanished in rapid
succession, and the rest began to scatter in panic.

"They're breaking formation!"

"I see it! Battle chip, Spreader! Slot-in!"

Another flash...and Skuld had to shield her eyes from the massive eruption
of blue light which swept the room. She blinked a few times...

And stared.

All the bugs were gone.

The smoke began to clear, and the mysterious interloper dropped to the
ground, landing lightly on his feet. Skuld removed her goggles and peered at
him intently. He was young, perhaps her age, dressed in a form-fitting black
bodysuit with blue boots, gloves, and helmet. A red-and-gold emblem adorned
his chest, and an odd blue backpack was attached to his back. She belatedly
noticed that one of his gloves was, in fact, in the shape of a cannon of
some sort, and much of his face was hidden by a black mask. Sharp green eyes
glanced around warily...

Then, he sighed, and the mask vanished, revealing a normal-looking face. The
gun on his arm glowed, and changed to a hand to match the other. He smiled
at her. "You okay?"

Skuld blinked. "Um...hai. Ano...who...?"

The boy bowed. "I'm Rockman. Pleased to meet you."

*********************

"Okay, I guess it's time to leave and let that girl get back to work."

"Yosh'. Plugging ou..." Rockman broke off, frowning.

"Is something wrong?" Skuld asked. Netto echoed the question a moment later.

Rockman looked around. "I...can't plug out. Something's holding me here."

Then, suddenly, there was a sound. A sound that startled the Navi. A sound
that shouldn't have been possible.

His stomach rumbled.

Skuld giggled. "Sounds like you're hungry."

Rockman's eyes widened. "Hungry...but that's impossible..."

"Rockman? What's--"

"Netto. I need a Sword chip. Now."

One could almost hear the other boy blink. "Um...okay. Slotting one in."

A sword appeared on Rockman's arm. He took a deep breath, laid the thumb of
his other hand against the edge, and pressed. "Ouch!" He withdrew his hand
quickly, sucking in a breath, and stared at the line of blood welling up on
his thumb.

The sword dissipated, and Rockman sank to his knees. "Masaka..."

"Rockman! What's going on?!"

Skuld knelt beside the Navi. "Are you okay?"

Rockman stared at his hands, eyes wide. "I'm...human..."


6. FMA/Naruto: "Far From Home"


He sat on the shore, the sound of the gently lapping waves and the crying
gulls providing a soothing background music to his writing.

The research part of his little hobby was the most fun, of course, and best
done in an environment populated by many people; the actual writing, on the
other hand, he preferred to do in peaceful solitude, preferably at dusk or
at dawn, the times of day which most inspired him.

He loved writing on the beach. It was so relaxing, so peaceful, so
inspirational...and so remote and quiet. No distractions, no noisy,
obnoxious little brats...

A sudden, loud clanking shattered the peaceful stillness, causing him to
make a nasty, awkward brush stroke, marring his precision calligraphy. He
glanced up, annoyed, and saw a hulking mass of metal roll down a rock to
land on the sandy shore. "What in the...?"

Sighing and pocketing his writing materials, he rose to his feet, brushing
loose sand and moss from his pants, and leapt from the rock upon which he
was perched, lighting gracefully on the beach. He walked across to the noisy
intruder, and slowed when he heard a young voice begin to utter a litany
of...well, he supposed they were curses; the tongue was unfamiliar to him.
The metal mass shifted, and rose onto two legs; he realised it was a figure
wearing armour.

However, as the figure rose, its helmet fell off...and revealed an empty
space. His eyes widened.

A volley of muttering came from the figure, which bent down to scoop up the
empty helmet...then paused, turning to face him. The body language indicated
startlement, embarassment, and wariness, and the headless figure began to
stammer in that foreign tongue.

*I don't sense any malice or evil intent,* he thought. *I also sense...no,
this isn't a puppet or a clone...something is not right here.* His eyes
widened further. *This is a living person...a human being...or at least, it
used to be. What in the...?*

As the figure reattached its helmet (head?), he held up his hands in a
gesture of greeting. "I don't speak your language, friend," he said calmly,
"but hopefully you'll understand I intend you no harm."

The helmet cocked sideways curiously. It then knelt and, ponderously, drew a
strange series of symbols in the damp sand. It then looked back up at him
inquisitively.

He shrugged, shaking his head.

The figured nodded, frowning, and looked at the sea. It then gathered a
double handful of sand and placed it in the centre of the circle it had
drawn, and placed both hands flat on the ground. There was a bright, blue
flash of light...

...and the pile of sand had been replaced with a small, clear glass
figurine. It looked like a teenage boy with intense eyes and a long pigtail.

"Amazing. How...?"

The armoured figure glanced up at him again, gesturing first at the
figurine, then pointing at its own eyes.

Clearly getting the message, the man shook his head. "Sorry. Doesn't look
familiar to me."

The armour bowed its head, then picked up the figurine, cradling it
protectively.

The man's heart went out to this strange apparition. Whoever the young man
was, he clearly meant a lot to the armour being. Drawing himself up, he
gestured to his own chest, and spoke slowly and clearly, "Jiraiya."

The armour studied him for a long moment, then seemed to brighten in
understanding, and placed a gauntleted hand to its own chest. "Alphonse."

======================================

Tenten sighed as she reclined on the beach, sprawled out on a large towel,
clad in an off-white one-piece swimsuit and sunglasses. "This is nice," she
mused to nobody in particular.

Inwardly, she felt a slight pang at skiving off on her training. That was,
ostensibly, what she was out here on the shore to do. Though the village was
recovering nicely from the attack by Otogakure and Sunagakure, there were
still plenty of missions to go around; missions that were breaking up teams
were getting more and more common. Neji had been sent away with the entire
active Hyuuga clan on a mission that required their unique bloodline limit;
Gai-sensei and Lee had been dispatched to investigate an underground
fighting tournament which was attracting many unsavory types to towns and
villages far too close to the daimyo's seat of government in their own
nation. Tenten wasn't sure what sort of trouble had arisen to require
multiple Byakugan users, but it was obvious why the two eerily similar
taijutsu masters were sent to break up an illegal tournament ring. This,
however, left her in an awkward position: there were no solo missions for
kunoichi with weapons specialty, and no active team needed an extra hand.

Therefore, Tenten had requested time to take a training sabbatical, and
Godaime Hokage-sama had readily agreed; she'd even suggested this particular
beach as a tranquil place.

More than once, Tenten wondered if perhaps the Hokage-sama had lain out on
the beach sunbathing instead of training too.

A sudden sound snapped her out of her idle musings; a familiar, metallic
sound. She instantly rolled into a crouch, two shuriken and a kunai which
had been hidden in the sand beside her in hand. She heard a grunt of
exertion; a male voice. She frowned. *It'd be just my luck to have some
would-be rapist pervert show up...*

Another metallic sound, another grunt. Tenten cautiously stood up, carefully
edging along the beach to the source of the sounds. When she located the
target, she gasped.

A boy, no older than herself, lay sprawled on the wet sand. His amber eyes
were unfocussed; his long, braided blond hair was matted and disshevelled.
He was shirtless; his build was slight but well-toned, and...

...well, he had one arm. One *real* arm, at any rate. His right arm, from
the shoulder down, was made of metal.

"Are you...alright?" She asked hesitantly. The boy looked up at her, his
eyes seeming to pass over and around her without really seeing her. He
coughed, a mouthful of sand tinted red with blood issuing from his mouth.

"Al..." he rasped. Then he collapsed face-first on the shore, his right arm
clanking ominously as the artificial shoulder hit the damp sand.

======================================

Twelve hours had passed since Tenten found the young man on the beach.
Carrying him back to the cottage she was using had taken quite a bit of
effort; he'd seemed heavier than he should be, even accounting for the metal
arm.

Once she'd gotten him in and stripped off his remaining clothing (blushing
all the while), she discovered the reason for the added weight. His left leg
was also made of metal. "What on earth *happened* to you?" she had wondered
aloud as she carefully cleaned and dried the boy off with two large towels,
and began inspecting his artificial limbs for rust or sand damage--she knew
very little about machines, but knew that sand getting into gears was bad
for them, and it stood to reason it went the same for mechanical limbs.
After she had finished her ministrations, she'd tightly wrapped the boy in
linens and blankets, and begun preparing medicinal broth for his high fever.

Now, she sat beside him, changing the cloth on his forehead, watching for
any signs he might regain consciousness. She'd managed to get small amounts
of broth into him; he hadn't coughed up anything more since he passed out,
so she began to worry less about internal injuries.

======================================

Communication, Jiraiya mused, was a very interesting thing. Two people with
no common language striving to understand one another...

He just wished it was a pretty woman instead of a strange, empty suit of
armour. But, you take what life gives you...

Through a long array of attempted dialogue, pantomime, crude drawings, and
figurines made from sand, the non-man had managed to convey his situation to
the elder shinobi.

His name was Alphonse Elric, and he was fourteen years of age. Jiraiya had
been right in his initial assessment; Alphonse *was* human at one point. The
young man he sought was his brother, Edward. They had been on a ship at sea,
encountered a storm, and Alphonse had been washed away on a raft hastily
constructed from remnants of the deck after the vessel had smashed. He did
not know what had become of his brother.

These things had been rather straightforward, told through a series of
drawings and gestures. Other details, however, had been somewhat more
confusing, and he still was not entirely certain he had it all straight.

Alphonse and his brother apparently both possessed the ability to convert
materials from one form to another. This amazing talent was not without its
limits; it seemed the output could not exceed the amount of raw materials
consumed (which was sensible--you can't create more than you have to work
with in the first place), and apparently, utilising this ability on living
things had rather grim results.

Based on Alphonse's diagrams and transmuted figurines, with which he had put
on a slightly embarassing "puppet show", Jiraiya learned--again, if he was
understanding properly--that the boys' mother had died some time ago. They
had attempted to resurrect her, and had paid dearly for it. Edward had lost
two limbs, and Alphonse had lost his entire body. Somehow, his soul had been
attached to an empty shell of armour, which explained his continued
existence.

Jiraiya had not, for his part, been as capable of communicating information
about himself--of course, he had not gone out of his way to do so. He was,
after all, ninja. He had, however, agreed to help Alphonse search for his
brother for a while. He rather doubted they would find him, but he intended
to take Alphonse to Konoha and request a search on his behalf as a C-rank
mission. Alphonse didn't appear to have anything on him that would count as
money, but his unusual abilities would come in handy in the reconstruction
efforts...

Al repressed a sigh as his companion sat back on his haunches, rubbing his
chin in thought. Although he thought he'd managed to get the gist of his
story across to the elder man, with the horrendous language barrier between
them, he simply couldn't be certain.

Jiraiya suddenly sat forward, and began tracing a symbol in the dirt. It
didn't look like the pictographic markings that had made up his earlier
attempts at communication; this was a very stylised symbol, a spiral with an
extruded terminus, and an additional marking added on to form the shape
of...an eye, perhaps? A leaf? He frowned inwardly; it could be either,
really.

The white-haired man then gestured first to Al, then to himself, and then
tapped the symbol on the ground. At Al's headshake, the man smirked, and
picked up the figure of Ed the living armor had made earlier. He once again
pointed to Al, then to himself, then tapped the symbol on the ground, and
then gestured meaningfully from the symbol to the figure.

"I...don't get it," Al admitted, knowing his words would mean nothing, but
hoping his tone conveyed his ignorance.

Jiraiya sighed. He tapped himself and pointed at Al, then tapped the symbol
on the ground again. He placed the Ed figurine a short distance from that,
then began drawing stick figures around the symbol, with arrows pointing
from them to the figurine.

Al gasped with comprehension. "You want to take me someplace where someone
can help me find my brother?"

The old man grinned; he hadn't understood Al's words, but he knew
nevertheless that the bodiless youth had gotten the gist of things. He then
pulled out a scroll and a brush, and began rapidly scrawling characters Al
couldn't make heads nor tails of. He finished by making a marking identical
to the one he wore on his brow, then made several of those strange hand
gestures he was fond of making, and pressed both thumbs to the last symbol.
The scroll began to glow and shimmer, and then...

If Al could blush, he would have. The writing had vanished entirely, to be
replaced with something...very, very lewd. Leering, Jiraiya rolled the
scroll up and tied it with a bit of twine, then bit his thumb and, making
more hand gestures, pressed the bleeding digit to the ground. There was a
flash of light and a puff of smoke, and a...*frog* appeared.

Al stared.

Jiraiya spoke some uncomprehensible words to the frog and placed the scroll
in its mouth. The frog hopped off, disappearing suddenly mid-hop. Jiraiya
dusted off his hands, then turned back to Al, grinning. He stood, and
gestured for the displaced alchemist to do the same.


7. Naruto/Kim Possible: "So The Ninjas"


"The Jigen-Fuuin Saruzou."

"The who what now?"

"Didn't learn much Japanese on your exchange trip, did you?"

"Hey, I learned how to say hello, goodbye, octopus, and where's the
bathroom. I didn't learn nothin' about HEY WAIT A SECOND. 'Saru' is MONKEY!"

"Saw THAT coming."

"Okay Wade...explanation time, before monkey-boy freaks out?"

"The Dimension-Sealing Monkey Idol."

"Dimension...sealing. Okay, why am I getting a really bad vibe out of this?"

"I dunno. It's not like Monkey Fist is after the Tempus Simia idol or
something. THAT would be BAD."

"The what?"

"Nevermind. Anyway, you know how Monkey Fist is obsessed with mystical
monkey magic stuff. The Jigen-Fuuin Saruzou is an ancient cursed monkey idol
that's supposed to be kept in a specially purified, warded shrine in the
mountains of northern Japan."

"And it's gone missing, and Monkey Fist is the one who stole it."

"Right. And last reports put him headed for the Monkey Gate in the Valley of
the Thousand Monkey Sages in central China."

"You know, you'd think the world would run out of funky monkey stuff sooner
or later."

"Give it a rest, Ron. So what's this monkeymajig supposed to do, Wade?"

"Well, judging by the name, I guess it seals a dimension."

"Too sci-fi."

"What, you've never heard of summoning demons?"

"...DEMONS?! MONKEY DEMONS?!"

"Ron...!"

"No way, KP. Monkey Kung Fu is one thing. Monkey Ninjas are another thing.
Monkey Magic is too freaky. But I absolutely DRAW THE LINE AT MONKEY
*DEMONS*!"

"So we head to China and stop Monkey Fist from doing anything with the idol.
So not the drama!"

"Better hurry, Kim. He's got a healthy lead on you."

"On it, Wade."


8. AMS: "Aa! Megane-sama!"


Keiichi watched Belldandy nervously as she replaced the phone in its cradle.
Every time the Almighty called directly, he became nervous. That this most
recent call should come five seconds after the goddess accepted his marriage
proposal...

"Well?" he asked.

Belldandy smiled. "Father approves."

Keiichi let out a hearty sigh of relief.

"On two conditions."

The newly-affianced man felt his breath catch and his heart skip a beat.
"Conditions?"

"Yes." Belldandy took his hand. "The first is that I become mortal, like
you. I'll still be a goddess, but I'll grow old as you do, and eventually
die at your side."

"D-DIE?!" Keiichi yelped, eyes wide.

The goddess smiled. "Keiichi-san, it's not as though I'm going to drop dead
here and now. As I said, we'll be together--as man and wife--for the rest of
our normal, mortal lives. I'll still have the powers of a goddess, but they
too will fade as time passes." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes
shining. "I have no regrets about growing old with you."

Keiichi still looked concerned, but he nodded. "And the other condition?"

"I have to train a replacement. A new goddess to take my place. You see, in
order for me to become mortal, a mortal must become immortal in my stead."

"Ah, I see." Keiichi frowned. "So, who is it?"

"Choosing my replacement is my responsibility." Belldandy's eyes sparkled
with amusement. "And I already have the perfect candidate in mind..."

Across town, a mousy girl felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
Then she sneezed violently.

"Ara...I hope I'm not catching something..."

9. Azumanga/Rockman.EXE: "Azuman.EXE"

My name's Kasuga Ayumu, but everybody calls me Osaka, just 'cuz I'm from
Osaka. It used to really bother me, but I guess I've gotten used to it or
something. Or maybe I decided it's not worth worrying about. I'm not really
sure. Anyway, it doesn't matter. So I'm Osaka, I guess.

I moved here from Osaka a few months ago, and things sure are different.
Course we had PETs in Osaka too, and lotsa people even had their own custom
Net Navis, but...it just wasn't as big as it is here in Akihara. Everybody
has a PET, and most people have custom Net Navis. There's tons of shops for
upgrades, Navi programs, repairs, and battle chips...you can even buy packs
of low-grade battle chips at a conbini, like thirty for a thousand yen.
Mostly minibombs and guard chips and area steals...little stuff. Only
newbies and little kids buy them, really. I bought some when I was a newbie.
I've got better chips now, but I still have the other ones, except for the
ones I used in a chip trader. But I didn't get very good chips. Oh well.

Even the teachers have Net Navis here, and we use our PETs in class. Our
homeroom teacher teaches English and also virus busting, but she's not very
good at virus busting and doesn't have her own custom Navi. It pisses her
off that most of the class have custom Navis...but hers is just a teaching
Navi, and usually does most of the teaching for her anyway while she sleeps
or plays a video game. She's kind of a lazy teacher, really.

Tou-sa gave me a Navi when we moved. She's a really great Navi. Her name is
Chiyo-chan.EXE, and she's the smartest Navi ever. She's got lots of memory
and program modules, so she knows everything, and she pretty much does my
homework for me because I space out a lot and don't pay attention in class
too much. She takes notes for me, and tries to help me learn, but usually
just ends up doing everything for me. She doesn't complain though...well,
not much. She does tell me I should get my act together, but then, so does
everybody else. I really try, but it's just...

Oh, wait, I didn't tell you what PETs and Net Navis are, did I? Well, a PET
is a Personal Terminal. It's like a little computer you can carry around
with you, and it keeps your schedule, and does e-mail, and can be used as a
phone, and you can play games on it, and lots of other stuff. It has an
artificial intelligence program called a Net Navi that's kinda like your own
personal assistant. They take care of things like e-mail and schedules and
all that. Also, they can fight other Navis and even fight computer viruses,
because there's lots of computer viruses on the net around here. Computer
viruses are scary. I think it's mean that people make viruses and stuff.

Chiyo-chan doesn't like fighting other Navis, but she's really good at virus
busting. A lot of my friends are envious because my Navi is so good at it.
Usually she just tells me what chips to send, and I send them, and she works
out how to win on her own, because she's so smart. That's not how it
normally works, because most of the time it's the operator and not the Navi
who figures out how best to fight, but...that's just how smart Chiyo-chan
is.

There's a lot of interesting people in my class. There's this one girl,
Tomo-chan, who's really wild and hyper, and kind of annoying sometimes. Her
Navi, Yomi, has almost the exact opposite personality, and sometimes you can
hear the two of them arguing a lot...I have to wonder why Tomo-chan has a
Navi like that if they can't get along. But she says she's had that Navi
since she was little, so...

Ah! Chiyo-chan just found a virus! I'd better...oh wait, she got it with her
Osage Busters. Chiyo-chan's Osage Busters are amazing...Tou-sa got a good
deal on a pack of power upgrades for them.

What was I talking about before? Oh yeah, the people in my class. Well,
there's two girls, Kaorin and Chihiro, who are always hanging out together.
They have pretty much normal Navis, except Kaorin's is pink...I can't
remember much about hers right now. There's also this one girl,
Sakaki-san...I don't think she has a Navi. Come to think of it, I've never
seen her with a PET. Maybe she doesn't have one? Maybe that's why she always
looks so...I dunno. She tends to stare out the window a lot, and not many
people try to talk to her much.

You know, it's funny...Chiyo-chan and I have seen a Navi on the Net that
looks kinda like Sakaki-san. Weird.

AHHHH! Shutterman! Run away, Chiyo-chan! Ah! I should plug out...whew.
Shutterman is Kimura-sensei's Net Navi. It's a little creepy. Kinda like
Kimura-sensei...he's really creepy too. He acts like a peeping tom a lot and
pays too much attention to the girls. We think he has a camera built into
his PET to take upskirt pictures, but nobody's caught him doing it.

E-mail from Yukari-sensei. Extra assignment...wah. She always does this when
she gets mad for getting a traffic ticket.

E-mail from Kurosawa-sensei. She's found out about Yukari-sensei's ticket
and is forging the assignment to send to Yukari's grading program. Whew.
Kurosawa-sensei is so nice, and always seems to be a step ahead of
Yukari-sensei...

It's time for bed, so I'll plug my PET into the recharging station and open
the netgate for Chiyo-chan to go onto the Net while I'm asleep. Oyasumi....


* * * * * *

Chiyo-chan strolled down one of the many paths which made up the virtual Net
world of Akihara. She saw the Navis belonging to some of Osaka's classmates,
and greeted them.

As she walked, she saw the tall, quiet Navi who never seemed to interact
with anyone. This Navi was a bit of an enigma; none of Osaka's classmates or
their Navis knew anything about her, or who she belonged to. Extremely tall
and elegant, with long black hair, she wore a black bodysuit with salmon
trim and a helmet with a black visor which obscured most of her face, save
for her mouth, which never showed any real expression. She also wore a red
shield slung across her back; the shield had an odd shape, like a cross
between a surfboard and a cat, and even had a cat-like face on it. It was
rather incongruous, considering how serious the Navi usually was. Chiyo-chan
had seen this Navi battle several viruses once, and wipe them all out with a
single swipe of her sword.

The tall Navi was currently approaching a small, grey sprite perched on the
edge of a path. Chiyo-chan tensed. That was a Kamineko virus! They weren't
especially dangerous, but they had a tendency to...

Oh no! The tall Navi is reaching out a hand to the Kamineko! Doesn't she
know better?

*CRUNCH*

Ah! The Kamineko just bit the tall Navi, and is latched onto her hand!

Chiyo-chan silently set her battle mode, and pointed her Osage Busters at
the offending virus. Twin bursts of energy lashed out, slicing through the
virus and reducing it to a rapidly dissipating stream of null data.
Silently, Chiyo-chan ducked around a corner, not wanting to draw the tall
Navi's attention, and began heading back to Osaka's home PC.

* * * * * *

Sakaki looked forlornly at the screen of her PET, where a small red warning
flashed that her Navi's hand data had been damaged. She idly set the repair
routine in motion, and sighed.

Her Navi sighed as well. "I failed again, mistress."

"It's alright, Aoi. Someday, you'll succeed." She looked down at her hand,
which had a slightly bloody bandage wrapped around it. "Someday, we'll both
succeed..."


10. Azu/Naruto: "Azuninja Daioh"


"Okay, okay...settle down, class. I SAID SETTLE DOWN!"

The milling students gradually lapsed into silence as the master spoke. The
elderly man looked around, nodded, and consulted a clipboard. "Very
well...you have all passed the qualification tests and are now official
rookie ninja. You will be assigned to three-member squads for further
training. These--" he indicated a row of teachers with a wave of his hand-- 
"are the jounin to whom you will be assigned. One jounin will manage each
squad of genin. As twenty-one students passed the qualification, there will
be seven squads. The squad assignments are as follows..."

Five minutes later, the students had been dismissed, and the older ninja
were chatting amongst themselves. One in particular, a twentysomething
kunoichi with wavy brown hair, was complaining to a cheerful blue-haired
woman who appeared to be trying hard not to laugh.

"Mou, Nyamo, why'd YOU get both the star athletes...?"

<<<<<<<<<<-----o

Two teenage girls and one younger girl milled about in an empty classroom.
"We're lucky," commented one of them. "We get the genius cadet Chiyo-chan on
our squad."

"Yeah, we'll be better ninja with her around."

"Not only that, but we can outdo her in just about everything except
studying!"

The younger girl glared at the boastful teen, and quickly formed a series of
seals. The older girl suddenly seized up, eyes wide, and began coughing.
Tears streamed down her face as she doubled over. Smirking, the smaller
student perched herself atop a desk, kicking her legs idly.

The door slammed open, and their instructor walked in. She was dressed in a
blue suit which neatly complemented the dark blue headband which held back
her wavy brown hair. The metal plate centred squarely on her forehead bore
an engraved crest: a wide, creepy pair of catlike eyes, topped by squat,
tapered ears. Her high heels clicked as she stepped to the podium.

"Okay, I'm Tanizaki Yukari, jounin, and from today I will be your sensei.
You are squad three." She glared at the girls. "I'm glad to have the genius
Chiyo in my squad, but you other two have bad reputations. Piss me off and
you'll die, understand?"

"HAAAI!" the more ebullient of the two cheered. The other simply began
looking serious and chanting to herself, "Shikkari...shikkari...shikkari..."

Yukari suddenly did a double-take, looking at her most enthusiastic charge.
"Takino, what the hell is that on your forehead protector?!"

Takino Tomo leapt onto her desk, a smug expression on her face. Unlike the
others, she was dressed in what could only be described as stereotypical
ninja garb, but in tones of maroon and salmon pink, covering everything
except her head, where she wore the same headband as her teammate and
sensei. The metal plate on her headband was decked out in garish
refrigerator magnets. "It's metal, so I figured it'd be cool."

Yukari sighed. "Get rid of them. And Chiyo-chan, where's your--"

Chiyo blushed, and lifted the hem of her skirt. The forehead protector was
tied around her left thigh, and two kunai were tucked securely behind the
metal plate. "It kept falling off when I tried to wear it on my head," she
said sheepishly.

Yukari shrugged. "That's okay, nobody's going to try to kill anyone as cute
as you anyway." She clapped her hands together. "Okay! It's time to begin. I
expect great things from you, because you're my hope for beating my greatest
rival!"

o----->>>>>>>>>>

Kurosawa Minamo sneezed.

"Are you okay, sensei?" one of the genin in her squad asked.

"I'm fine, Kagura." She looked at her three wards: Kagura, a tanned, toned
girl with sharp eyes and short hair, who wore a long tan coat over a blue
swimsuit, and used her forehead protector to belt the coat around her waist;
Sakaki, the tall, quiet girl who held her long raven hair back with her
headband, a look which matched the open-jacketed boys' school uniform she
wore nicely; lastly, there was Yomi, a tall, chestnut-haired girl with
glasses, dressed in an old-style Japanese army uniform of the style worn in
World War II, with her forehead protector tied around her left arm. A
sheathed katana hung at her side.

"Right, then. You'll be squad five starting today. I expect you to work
hard, and learn the value of teamwork. You're all very hard workers, which
is why I selected you for my squad. I must warn you: I don't put up with the
kind of nonsense some of my colleagues do. So no screwing around." She
paused. "Don't mess up, either."

Kagura and Yomi snickered. Sakaki reddened slightly.

"Alright, this is what we'll be doing first..."

o----->>>>>>>>>>

A girl with short, dark hair sat morosely in the corner, crying. Like a few
others, she opted to wear the summer uniform: light blue top and dark blue
skirt, with a dark nylon body stocking and dark blue knee and elbow braces.
She was presently using her forehead protector as a handkerchief.

"It's not that bad," her auburn-haired friend offered, patting her on the
arm. The girl was similarly attired, as was the third member of their squad,
a short-haired, pretty girl of average height, who simply sat at a desk
awkwardly; she had come from another village and finished her preliminary
qualification with their group, but still considered herself an outsider,
thus having difficulty making friends.

"It's HELL!" the sobbing girl shrieked, bawling into her headband.

"What's she so upset about?" the outsider girl asked, curiosity and empathy
overcoming her aloofness.

"She wanted to be in Sakaki-san's squad," the other girl replied sadly.
"She's been Sakaki-san's biggest fan forever, and was looking forward to
being partnered with her. Her dreams have been crushed forever." She patted
the crying girl on the shoulder.

"It's...it's not that," the hunched-over figure said with a shudder,
sniffling.

"No?" the other girl replied, blinking. "Then what--"

The door slid open, and a chill washed over the room. A foul presence filled
the air, like a pervasive stench. The auburn-haired girl and the newcomer
both shuddered, reflexively hugging themselves for warmth, while the crying
girl merely gave another shrieking sob and buried her face in her headband.

The door slid closed again.

"What...was that...?"

And then, out of thin air, he appeared.

Tall, gaunt, dressed all in black, with the exception of the dark grey,
pocketed vest he wore, and the green camo backpack slung over his shoulder.
A black kerchief tied under his nose masked his breathing, and his mirrored
black glasses obscured his eyes entirely. His forehead protector had been
sewn onto the kerchief, which also concealed most of his unkempt black hair.
He wore no mask over his face, leaving his slack-jawed, gaping expression
bare to the world.

"Kimura," he said. "Fourth squad teacher." He then disappeared, and suddenly
reappeared squatting on the desk of the crying girl. "I'm going to enjoy
teaching you, Kaorin-chan."

You could HEAR the heart at the end of his words.

The girl cried harder.

The outsider shuddered. "I'm beginning to wish I'd never come to this
place..."

o----->>>>>>>>>>

11. Love Hina: "Crotching Turtle"


It all started with an extremely tipsy turtle.

Actually, in retrospect, it was perhaps fortunate that it DID start with a
drunken turtle, for had Tamago not inadvertently revealed Suu's latest
stunt--she had somehow managed to fill the hot springs with hot sake--things
might have gone off much worse than they had.

As it was, life at Hinata-sou had already been changed forever.

Keitaro got blamed for the whole thing, of course.

But then, that's probably the only normal part of this strange, strange
tale...


12. Dark Cloud: "Dark Cross"


I look out the window and face the morning sun as it rises over the cliffs
surrounding my village.

The modern world's influence is slowly creeping through the town. The elders
speak of times when there were but a half-dozen rough wooden huts with straw
roofs, and two or three stone dwellings, in this small valley. I see no
evidence of that today, in the face of the fine brick and plank edifices
that shine in the light of day. On the hill at the south end of town, where
the mayor once lived, now stands the combination school and mission, an
imposing white stone monument built by travelling merchants from the coast.
The massive clock atop the mission tolls the hour; services will begin soon.

As the day brightens, the sunlight catches on the items in my lap, the items
I have spent the night contemplating. Passed down through three generations
of my family, they once belonged to my great-grandfather...whose name I have
begun to curse on a daily basis, for the burden which has been handed down
to me from my mother.

The cursed sword, its ebon hilt gleaming, its dark, flanged silver-and-black
blade drawing in the light like a parched man at an oasis.

The innocent-looking blue stone, its highly polished surface glistening in
the morning sun.

I want to bury them both in the depths of the cave on the edge of town. I
want to forget I ever saw them. I want to escape the burden that has been
passed on through generations.

I want to, but I can't. Not only would my parents never allow it, but I know
what would happen if I did. I'm fully aware of the dangers both the sword
and the stone pose--and why they must remain within the family.

Why I must be cursed with them both.

Sighing, I strap the armlet bearing the Atlamillia back onto my wrist, and
slide the sword, Dark Cloud, into the harness on my back. I then stand, dust
myself off, and prepare to face the day.

For today, I am to leave the confines of Norune for the first time, and
continue the work of my parents, and theirs before them.

You'd think we'd be done rebuilding the world by now...


13. Untitled Dragonball AU fic


"Ne, Vegeta," the small, wild-haired boy began as he dipped his tail in the
water.

"What do you want *now*, Kakarotto?" the sullen prince snapped.

Goku blinked. "Oi, why you keep callin' me that? I told you my name's Son
Goku."

Vegeta snorted. "Your name is Kakarotto, and it would serve you well not to
forget it, you ignorant little brat."

The smaller Saiyajin pondered this for a moment, then began again, "Anyway,
I was just wondrin'...I mean, I got to thinking about bein'...y'know, from
where you're from an' stuff, an'..."

"Just spit it out already," the prince commanded.

"Well, what's it like there? All I know is the mountains here, and a couple
islands, and the desert where we met Yamucha, and I saw a little bit of the
city, I think...what's it like where I'm from?"

Vegeta smirked, crossing his arms. "I'm amazed you managed to ask a sensible
question." Closing his eyes, he leaned back. "Bejiitasei is much larger than
this pitiful ball of dirt, for one thing. The sky's red, like blood, and the
ground is the same in most places...brown in others. Lots of mountains and
caves...we Saiyajin were born of the caves, but took to the valleys once we
wiped out the weak, pitiful Tsufuru-jin and claimed the entire planet for
our own."

"That wasn't very nice," Goku complained.

Vegeta glared at him.

"I mean, what'd they do to you? It sounds to me like there was plenty of
room for everyone, so why'd you need to kill 'em all? Didn't anyone teach ya
about sharing?"

The prince snorted. "The Tsufuru-jin wouldn't share what they had. We
Saiyajin lived in caves and hunted wild prey, while they luxuriated in large
cities with plentiful food."

Goku blinked. "Gee." He paused to think about that, absently flicking a fish
from the tip of his tail onto the riverbank. "But it sounds like you had
plenty...I mean, you had food and a place to live, right?"

"Wrong!" Vegeta snarled, tossing a fish skeleton back into the water. "It's
not enough to simply survive! What kind of Saiyajin are you, that I have to
*explain* this to you?"

The smaller boy chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, I guess I'm
not so smart." Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he too threw
the remains of lunch back into the river, he prodded, "So why did you kill
the farts-jin or whatever?"

"Because Saiyajin live to conquer," Vegeta replied. "We thirst for the blood
of our enemies. Fighting is more important to us than the air we breathe."

Goku blinked. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean. I love to fight almost as
much as I love to eat."

"That's because you're Saiyajin, even if you're the dumbest commoner I've
ever seen," the prince said. "I don't know what addled your brains, but
nothing can quell the fighting spirit of a Saiyajin warrior."

"So what'd you do when you killed those other guys? Who did you have to
fight then?"

Vegeta was silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth. With speed that
surprised even Goku, he plunged a hand into the water, withdrew a writhing,
gasping fish, and began scaling it with his teeth. "For a while, each other,
until a royal line was established. My ancestor. Then we started meeting
other races that traded with the Tsufuru-jin. They gave us technology and
taught us how to use it, and we worked planet cleanup for them."

"Cleanup is good. My grandpa always told me cleaning up after yourself is
important."

The prince ground his teeth. "We killed every lifeform on planets our
employers wanted for themselves," he clarified.

Goku frowned. "Oh." He was silent for a moment. "I don't think I'd like
bein' a Saiyajin."

Vegeta shot him a sidelong glance. "You *are* Saiyajin, Kakarotto. Whether
you like it or not, you cannot change your heritage."

"Yeah, I know," Goku said. "But I think I like bein' from Chikyuu better."


14. Untitled Sailormoon lemon


Life can be very confusing sometimes--moreso for the youth than for anyone
else, because they are in the process of learning how to deal with all the
world has to offer in the realms of pleasure and pain, fortune and strife,
right and wrong, and a great many other things besides.

Certain circumstances tend to conspire to make life even more confusing than
it already is for some. Take, for example, one particular young girl in
Tokyo: at first glance, there is nothing particularly uncommon about her.
She's small, reasonably cute, with short, dark hair, a slender frame, pale
skin, and dark violet eyes--perhaps her most striking feature, those eyes,
deeper and older and wiser and full of more pain than her age would bely.

Therein lay the aforementioned circumstances, for this particular girl isn't
quite sure how old she really is.

Fate has conspired against this poor, unfortunate child since day one. At a
very young age, she was nearly killed in an explosion--and survived only due
to the fusion of a decidedly evil life-force with her own. From that day,
she was quite sickly, subject to frequent exhaustion, nausea, dizziness, and
even blackouts. She was also shunned by her classmates, not only for her
frail constitution, but also for certain abilities she possessed which
fostered misunderstanding, mistrust, and outright hatred in those around
her.

Then, one day, she'd found a friend. And she'd been happy, for a time.

Then something very terrible happened to her. She found out who she was.

She nearly died again, that day, but again she survived, this time thanks to
the kind heart of another she had come to think of as a dear friend. But
then...then had come the most terrifying ordeal of her life.

And then, she HAD died. And been reborn, as an infant.

Those who would have killed her had accepted the responsibility of caring
for her in her new life--a life which had taken an unexpected turn at some
point, as she had grown several years in a single night.

Death, rebirth, supernatural growth spurts, and other considerations tend to
create serious confusion and uncertainty in regards to one's own mortality,
not to mention one's age. No longer certain just how old she really was, she
nevertheless knew that--mentally, at least--she felt to be at least on par
with her friends and surrogate family, if perhaps a bit less mature.

With the body of a girl on the cusp of adolescence, and a mind well into
said adolescence, this particular resident of Tokyo found herself in a
uniquely frustrating situation, one which didn't have an immediately
obvious, satisfactory solution.

Tomoe Hotaru, Sailor Saturn, needed to get laid.


15. Conan/SM: Kid vs Kamen


Stray wisps of moonlight filtered through the vaulted windows of the museum,
dappling the floor with silvery-pale patches that drifted and settled in
ghostly silence, a perfect counterpoint to the stillness of the warm night
air.

There should have been more activity. Police lights, shouting, men running
around with flashlights. All these things were expected, considering what
was to take place on this night.

However, for once, the invitation had been just a touch too clever, and not
even the oft-expected foil had deciphered the riddle.

While it certainly made the job that much easier, it was nevertheless a
disappointment.

After all, Kaitou Kid loved playing to a captive audience.

With a self-mocking sigh, he easily slipped into the museum and strolled,
calmly, to the display case of the piece which was his target for the night:
an ostentatiously large, sparkling gem, largely translucent, with seven
small, round, multicoloured fragments of crystal trapped within.

The Raindrop Prism.

With a smile, he carefully disconnected the alarm systems attached to its
case, and effortlessly removed one side of the glass housing. With a quick,
fluid motion, he snatched the gem from inside the case and replaced it with
a meticulously prepared fake, then replaced the glass pane in its original
position, pressing it firmly in place with completely invisible tape. It
wouldn't hold forever and of course it would be noticed in the morning,
but...by then, it would no longer be his problem, now would it?

Smiling, he held up his prize in one gloved hand to examine it...

...and yelped as a sharp pain ripped through his wrist, causing him to drop
the gem, which skittered across the smooth marble floor noisily.

He glanced around in surprise. *Maybe Nakamori's better than I give him
credit for...or the chibi-tantei has a nasty new trick up his sleeve...*

And then he saw the rose.

Its stem embedded in solid marble, thorns glittering with his blood, petals
deep crimson in the dim moonlight.

*What the hell?!*

"Thank you for making this easier for me," a rich male voice said. He
turned, and saw a figure in a black tuxedo sweep up the Raindrop Prism. The
interloper grinned at him, face mostly concealed by a broad domino mask.

Kid returned the black-clad intruder's smirk. "Not at all." He whipped out
his card gun and fired it at the other man's feet. His opponent laughed and
leapt high into the air--far higher than should be possible without
wires--landing effortlessly on top of a large chandelier.

"Now, let's see what we..." The newcomer frowned at the gem he held, and
shook his head. "No...this isn't it. Damn." He casually flicked his hand,
sending the gem flying toward the phantom thief. "Here, it's worthless to
me. Finder's keepers, I suppose." He swirled his cape around him and
turned--

--and staggered as a cloud of doves suddenly caused him to lose his balance.
He toppled off the chandelier and fell, but managed to turn his ungainly
plummet into a graceful dive, somersaulting before landing lightly on his
feet. "Really now, that was entirely uncalled for," he said, dusting off his
tuxedo.

"That was for the rose," Kid said, examining the gem. "Dammit...it's not the
one I'm looking for either." Sighing, he placed it on top of the case he'd
stolen it from, then turned his attention to the other figure. "I don't
believe we've been introduced. And since it appears we're to be rivals..."

The black-clad man laughed softly. "Indeed. Tuxedo Kamen, jewel thief
extraordinaire, at your service." He bowed with a flourish.

Kid returned the bow. "Kaitou Kid, internationally famous phantom thief.
Nice to meet you. And just for the record, it's the bad guys who wear
black."

"And just for the record, I'm one of the bad guys," Tuxedo Kamen replied.
With that, he whirled his cape around himself and disappeared in a spray of
crimson petals.

Kid stared. "Okay, THAT impressed ME, and I'm a tough crowd." Shaking his
head, he calmly left the museum...on foot.

Because there was no point in making a flashy exit if nobody was there to
see it.


16. Tenchi Muyou: "Mihokiyo"


"Looks bad out there," Sasami commented, peeking out the window as she
sipped her tea.

"Mm," Katsuhito nodded. "The spring rains are often like this."

The two sat in the shrine, quietly sipping tea and watching the rain.
Ryo-Ohki nibbled on a carrot nearby. A rather loud party was going on in the
main house; the girl and the cabbit had come out to the shrine for some
peace and quiet. Outside, rain beat down in heavy sheets, the occasional
flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the rhythm of the
steady rainfall.

There was a sudden flash outside which had nothing to do with lightning.
Ryo-Ohki looked up. "Mya..."

"That...looked like a ship landing," Sasami noted.

Katsuhito nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Now, who would be coming down in
the middle of this weather, I wonder?"

Sasami peeked out the window. "Looks like the Yagami," she said.

******

There was a faint but persistent knock at the front door, barely audible
over the rain and the din of the party. "Tenchi, be a dear and get that,
would you?" Ryouko said between gulps of sake.

"Really, Ryouko-san," Ayeka scoffed, "it would not kill you to move your
lazy bones once in a while and do something, instead of leaving it all for
others to do."

"Yeah, so? Nobody asked you anyway," Ryouko sniped, punctuating her rude
retort with a long belch. Ayeka turned away with a 'hmph', pointing at the
ceiling with her nose.

Meanwhile, Tenchi opened the front door...and took a step back as a
shivering, dripping wet young woman collapsed into his arms. "H-hey!" he
cried out. Recovering from the shock, he dragged the unconscious woman into
the house. "Someone roll out a futon," he ordered. The others looked up in
mild surprise.

"Who's that?" Ryouko wondered.

"I have no idea," Tenchi said. Ayeka appeared with the futon, and Tenchi
laid the woman upon it. "I think maybe she's Galaxy Police, though," he
commented after a moment.

She appeared to be in her early twenties, and even in her present state of
unconsciousness and dishevelment, she was quite attractive. Strands of her
long, seafoam-green hair were plastered to her face and neck, having escaped
the topknot she wore which was held in place with a simple orange cloth.
Curiously, one lock of hair which trailed down her right cheek was darker in
color, and was intertwined near the temple with a curl of almost blonde
hair. Her lightly tanned skin was flushed slightly with fever. She wore a
Galaxy Police uniform, as well as a heavy pair of sweatpants and a dark blue
jacket.

"We need to get her out of those clothes and into the bath," Washuu noted.
"She's already running a high fever."

"You're right," Tenchi said. "Can you girls handle it?"

Just then, the woman began coughing, and stirred slightly. Tenchi
unconsciously took hold of her hand, much to the consternation of Ryouko and
Ayeka. "Miss? Are you alright?" he asked softly.

The young lady's eyelids fluttered open, and she focused on Tenchi with
sharp, deep blue eyes. "Ten...chi..." she said hoarsely.

Everyone blinked. "How...how do you know my name? Who are you?" Tenchi
demanded.

The woman's eyes became slightly unfocused. Her voice trembled as she
replied, "Kiyo...no, Miho...that's not right...I don't know," she finished.
"I...I don't know anymore." A pitiful sob racked her frame.

A loud rumble of thunder filled the silence as Tenchi, Ryouko, Ayeka, and
Washuu glanced around at one another uncertainly.

************

Tenchi, Ryouko, Ayeka, Washuu, Sasami, and Katsuhito stood around a large
cylindrical tank in which the mysterious young woman floated, hooked up to
sensors, intravenous nutrients, and a respirator. Much to Tenchi's relief,
the girls had wrangled her into a one-piece bathing suit.

Washuu frowned and swore under her breath as she furiously typed away at two
different floating keyboards simultaneously. "These readings don't make any
sense whatsoever," she muttered, brow creasing.

"Any idea who she is, Washuu?" Tenchi asked.

"WHO she is?" Washuu echoed, looking up sharply. "I can't even figure out
WHAT she is...based on what these readings are telling me, she's been
exposed to so much concentrated crude radiation she shouldn't still be
alive." Turning back to her work, she added, "As it is, her DNA looks like
someone poured acid through Swiss cheese."

"That bad, huh?" Ryouko commented.

"Is it..." Tenchi began. "Is it possible that this is Kiyone? Or Mihoshi?"
None of them had forgotten her earlier outburst.

Washuu shook her head. "I can't make a positive match for either case. The
part of the sequence that serves as identification is..." She paused, making
a face, as though her next words tasted bitter. "It's nothing I've ever seen
before."

"She's waking up," Sasami noted. Everyone turned to see the girl's head
move, her eyelids squeezing more tightly shut against the surrounding
liquid.

"Good. Maybe now we can get some answers," Washuu said.

******

The entire group sat around the dining table a few moments later. Their
mysterious visitor, dressed in a borrowed yukata, sipped the tea Sasami had
given her. She seemed nervous, frightened, and incredibly miserable.

"Please, calm yourself," Katsuhito said gently. "You are among friends
here."

"I...I know," she said, her voice quavering. "Th-that's why I came here.
I...I didn't have anywhere else to go..."

"It's alright," Tenchi said reassuringly. "Can you tell us anything about
yourself? Anything at all?"

This only made her look more miserable. "N-none of you recognize me at all,
do you?"

The group shook their collective heads.

"Could...could I trouble someone for a mirror?" she asked. There was a
confused pause, before Washuu produced one out of thin air and handed it to
her.

The young woman looked long into the mirror. As she did, the unshed tears
brimming in her eyes spilled over, and after a moment, the mirror dropped
from nerveless fingers, as she buried her face in her hands. "No...this
can't be happening..."

"You don't look all that bad," Ryouko quipped.

The woman looked up sharply. "This...this..." A spark of anger ignited in
her rich blue eyes. "This is NOT ME! It's not...it..." She broke down, all
coherence lost to wracking sobs. Every so often, her cries were punctuated
with a shaky, quiet "who am I?".

Everyone, even Ryouko, looked on with sympathy for the aqua-haired girl.
After a moment, Washuu frowned pensively, and called up one of her
keyboards. "Hmm...let's see...mmm-hmm...this...and this...alright...hmm."

"What is it, Washuu?" Tenchi asked.

Washuu nodded solemnly. "I should have known." A holoscreen popped up in the
middle of the table for everyone to see. On the screen, side by side, were
images of Kiyone and Mihoshi. As Washuu tapped keys, the images began to
slide together, overlapping. As they became perfectly aligned, the images
began to morph and blend together, until the screen showed an image which
looked almost exactly like the sea-haired woman crying in their midst.

Everyone stared. Washuu turned to the young woman, who looked up at the
screen with wide eyes. "That's what you are, isn't it?" the scientist asked.
She received a shaky nod in reply. "I think you'd better tell us what
happened to you," she said.

All eyes focused upon the miserable young woman as she took a deep breath,
and began her tale.


17. Azu/C:KND: "Operation C.H.I.Y.O.-C.H.A.N."


My name is Chiyo Mihama. I'm twelve years old, going on thirteen. I've
already graduated high school. I haven't had my first period yet.

And I've been keeping a dark, terrible secret from my friends.

It's something I don't like to talk about, or think about, or even remember,
and sometimes I feel like I've forgotten it, but...

My aunt Genki is coming from America to visit. With my cousins.

And I won't be able to hide from the truth any more...

operation:

C.H.I.Y.O. - C.H.A.N.

Cute

Highly

Intelligent

Young

Operative

Confesses

Her

Awful

Naughtiness


18. CCS/TMM/Sailormoon/others: Untitled Magical Girl Crossover


The life of a twelve-year-old girl is never easy. The changes that come with
puberty, the pressures of society, the emotional maelstrom that is the onset
of adolescence, the discovery of sexuality--that most dreaded of diseases
parents never want their children to catch, especially as it can lead to far
worse diseases, grandchildren being by far the worst of the lot--and the
endless drudge of school. Sure, there are some good things about being
young; friends, family, fun, and a carefreeness that adults lose somewhere
along the way. Still, there are times even the good things in life can be
unduly stressful for a young girl.

Kinomoto Sakura was having one of those days.

"Anou, Tomoyo-chan," she began in a pleading tone. "I captured all the Clow
Cards a long time ago. I'm not the Cardcaptor anymore. You don't need to
keep making these costumes."

Daidouji Tomoyo tilted her head to the side slightly, dark hair framing her
cute, pale face as her large, wide blue eyes gazed at Sakura; she was
smiling, but there was the barest edge of a poutiness to that smile. "But
Sakura-chan...you know I really enjoy making these outfits. It's like
painting or drawing to me, it's art. And you're my favorite model...you know
I like seeing how cute these costumes look on you."

That was the problem. Sakura DID know, now more than ever. It had taken her
a while to clue in, but once all the evidence had finally clicked into
place, the preteen had nearly freaked. As it was, she'd been very nervous
around Tomoyo for a while.

But, Tomoyo was her best friend, and though she was fairly sure she didn't
return *those* feelings, she *did* care about her...and didn't want to do
anything to hurt or upset her. She knew better than anyone just how tough
Tomoyo really was, but the slightly younger girl had a way of seeming so
fragile, like a china doll...

And so, Sakura didn't put up much resistance to her friend's creative
efforts, even though she was well and truly aware that the costumes were all
part of some bizarre fetish Tomoyo had that involved her exclusively. She
kept telling herself it wasn't really *that* bad...but she was quite
thankful none of the outfits Tomoyo made were see-through in any way, shape,
or form.

Even though the dark-haired girl had seen her naked hundreds of times
anyway. But she tried not to think about that.

The latest outfit was based on the costumes worn by the group of mysterious
heroines who were an urban legend in Tokyo, the Sailor Senshi. Sakura
shifted slightly as she attempted to make the cherry blossom pink miniskirt
less...mini. The skirt adorned a white one-piece bathing suit, to which
Tomoyo had attached a seifuku collar that matched the skirt in colour, and
had Sakura's name cutely sewn on the back in white letters. A big candy-red
bow with long tails and glittery ornamentation graced the back of the skirt,
matching the similar bow on the chest and the candy-coloured knee-high boots
with slightly raised heels and sakura petal ornaments at the tops.
Elbow-length white gloves with pink trim, a pink choker with a gold star
emblem, and a gold tiara with a heart-shaped pink jewel in the centre
completed the ensemble.

Tomoyo tilted her head. "I think I should add wings."

Sakura felt a sweatdrop coming on. "Why wings? You put wings on so many of
the costumes..."

The dark-haired girl smiled. "They look cute, and they go with Kero-chan."

The massive sweatdrop rolled down the back of Sakura's sandy-brown hair.
"Hooooeeeeee...."

"But maybe you're right...we'll leave off the wings this time. The skirt
makes up for it anyway."

Sakura blushed. "Tomoyo-chan..."

Any further comment was cut off by a nearby scream. The two girls jumped,
looked at one another, nodded, and ran off in the direction of the sound.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Naoko was having one of those days.

She'd been window-shopping in front of a bakery with many cute pastries on
display in the window, when the ground had started to shake, and
a...a...*thing* had burst from the sidewalk less than a metre away.

It was big, ugly, scaly, and had lots of sharp teeth, and it looked really
really mean and scary.

Naturally, she screamed.

Naturally, her scream drew its attention, and it reached out with sharp,
scaly claws and grabbed her.

Then it licked its lips menacingly...

"WOODY!" a voice called from somewhere above. Then the ground lurched again,
and the scaly nasty thing fell over, dropping her. She rolled away for a
bit, then sat up and looked back. The lizard monster was snared up in the
branches of a tree which had just erupted from the very hole it had burst
forth from.

"Who daresss?" it snarled, thrashing wildly.

There was a long pause.

"Hoe? Er, um...ah! Hold it right there! Hurting helpless girls on the
sidewalk in front of pastry shops is bad! I won't let you do it! I'm Sa--eh?
Hoe? Ano..." Another long pause. "I'm Sailor Clow! I'll stop you from doing
bad things!"

Naoko grew a sweatdrop. This was something out of a bad anime. And that was
the dumbest magical girl speech she'd ever heard. And why did that voice
sound so familiar?

The lizard looked up, as did Naoko, at a figure silhouetted on the roof.
Sure enough, it was a young girl--not much older than Naoko herself, if at
all--and she did seem to be wearing the same outfit the Sailor Senshi wore.

She descended to the ground, landing easily, and pointed a long pink wand
topped with a gold star at the monster. "Give up or I'll hurt you!"

The monster sneered, and shattered the branches binding it. "More food,
yesss. I'll kill you, child, and eat asss many humansss asss will fill my
ssstomach!"

The magical girl recoiled in horror. "Nasty!"

Naoko edged away from the scene, watching all the participants carefully.
She blinked as she noticed Tomoyo standing about a metre behind Sailor Clow,
videocamera at the ready. *Tomoyo-chan? With her camera...wait a minute.*

The lizard lunged toward the sailor-suited girl, who quickly sprang away.
"SWORD!" she cried as she pulled a card from somewhere in her costume. There
was a flash of light, and her wand transformed into an ornate, if somewhat
fragile-looking, sword.

"A pitiful weapon, but if you desssire an engagement..." The monster
extended its right claw; a thick spur of jagged bone shot from its wrist. It
saluted the sailor girl with its weapon. "I am Sssalm. Remember it for asss
long asss you live--which will not be much longer, I asssure you."

Sailor Clow leapt forward, sword at the ready, as did the monster. They
clashed in midair, then passed one another. They turned to face each
other...and Salm's claw dropped to the ground, severed just above the wrist.
"SUGOI!" cried Tomoyo.

Salm hissed menacingly. "Impressssive, human. But now you will die." And
with that, his entire body erupted in bony spurs, and he rushed the girl,
slamming into her with the force of a diesel truck.

Sailor Clow barely had time to cry "SHIELD!" and produce another glowing
card before she was body-checked. The force of the blow sent her flying down
the street, and her seifuku was torn in places, but miraculously, she stood
up again, seemingly unharmed. She glowered at the monster. "You ruined
Tomoyo-chan's hard work on this new costume! For that, I can never forgive
you!" Another card appeared in her hand. "Bind this demon and return him to
the darkness! SHADOW!"

A dark shade burst forth from the card and dissipated; instantly, the
shadows of the buildings and objects around the area began to gather,
coalescing into a thick, dark, amorphous blob which launched itself at Salm
and ensnared him. The lizard roared and struggled against the binding
shadows, which strove to drag it toward the hole it had made in the ground.
"RELEASSSE ME!" he bellowed.

"Will you go back where you came from and not hurt anyone?" Sailor Clow
asked.

"I MAKE NO DEALSSS WITH HUMANSSS! RELEASSSE ME!"

The sailor-suited girl shrugged. "Have it your way, then." She pulled
several cards out of her costume, and sorted through them. "What to use...?"

Salm gave a mighty roar and began to expand. The bonds of shadow holding him
began to stretch and tear, then exploded away from him, dissolving into
wisps of darkness that quickly dissipated.

"Look out!" Tomoyo cried.

Sailor Clow gasped, fumbling her cards. Salm leered at her and began to
advance...

"RIBBON MINT ECHO!"

There was a sudden blinding flash, and some force slammed into the lizard,
knocking him flat on his back. Naoko looked up and blinked. *ANOTHER magical
girl?*

Tomoyo turned her camera briefly to the source of the attack, as Sailor Clow
also looked up. A girl dressed in a rather plain mint-green minidress and
ankle-length boots, with her dark blue hair done up in twin buns, descended
to the ground, holding a comically small toy bow at the ready. "Can you
finish that thing off yourself?" she asked.

"Um...ah...hai!" Sailor Clow nodded, then gathered up her cards and stepped
forward. Salm began to rise, but the sailor-suited girl was faster. "Power
of the storm, subdue the enemy! THUNDER!"

A bolt of lightning shot from her staff, knocking Salm down the street.
Wisps of smoke rose from his scales. He didn't get up again.

"And now to send you back where you belong! MOVE!" Sailor Clow used a
different card, and as its glow faded, Salm vanished from the street.

"And now to make sure you can't get back for a while! FIERY!" The next card
send a jet of flame at the hole in the sidewalk, which began to boil and
crackle, glowing red. Within moments, the pavement and the ground below it
had liquified, melted into the hole, then began to cool, leaving behind a
scar in the sidewalk, but no path by which the monster could easily
resurface.

Sailor Clow let out an exhausted sigh, then put her cards back into her
costume. She turned to the girl in green who had helped her and bowed,
smiling. "Thanks. I'm glad you came along to help."

The other girl sniffed and turned her nose up. "You shouldn't be fighting
monsters if you can't be faster than that. People could get hurt."

The sailor-suited girl blinked, then scowled. "Hey! I don't usually do this,
you know! I just heard a scream and had to see what was going on! It's lucky
I was here at all--if Naoko-chan had had to wait for you, she'd have been
eaten!"

Tomoyo looked between the two. "Please, you shouldn't fight. Besides, Sailor
Clow is right--she doesn't normally fight monsters like that and hasn't used
her magic in a while."

The haughty girl looked between them, then shrugged. "Well, you'd better
practise, just in case. I might not be here to bail you out next time." With
that, she disappeared over the rooftops.

Tomoyo leaned close to Sailor Clow. "We'd better get out of here," she
whispered. She pointed to where Naoko was coming toward them; in the
distance, sirens could be heard.

Sailor Clow nodded, and, after using the Illusion card to conceal them,
dashed away from the scene with Tomoyo hot on her heels.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Deep beneath the Earth's surface, kilometres below the tunnels through which
the mass transit systems of the world move, below the networks of canals and
drainage systems which export water contaminated with fecal wastes, a
network of caverns extends beneath much of what is known to the surface
world as Asia; indeed, the caverns are so far beneath the surface that they
extend below the ocean floor itself.

In the lowest cavern, warm and humid from the surrounding magma and natural
steam pockets, a rough-hewn throne stands amid a circle of dull red
rocks--red from the heat, hot enough to burn the skin, yet in this place,
welcomed for their warmth, for those who dwell in this place far prefer the
heat at this depth to the colder climate high above.

The throne is occupied by a large, broad-shouldered being; gleaming
chainmail covers his torso like glittering scales, contrasting with the dark
copper of his own scaly hide. Similarly scale-like black mail boots cover
his feet; beyond that, his only adornment is a flowing cape of copper links,
currently draped over one arm of the chair. His face is narrow, angular,
with a sharp jaw and cold yellow eyes. Neither human nor reptile, but an
alarming combination of the two, this being radiates menace and cold
intelligence, as well as a degree of annoyance evinced by the drumming of
his hard, sharp black talons on the arm of the throne.

"Salm. Why have you returned?"

"I beg forgivenesss my liege! The sssurfa--"

"I do not desire apologies or excuses, Salm. I require only obedience,
satisfactory completion of the tasks I assign, and unwavering perfection."

"Yesss, I underssstand, Lord Sssalaman! But if you will jussst allow me
to--"

"There is nothing for you to explain. You have returned, ahead of schedule,
unsuccessful, and moreover, *maimed*. The humans were obviously too much for
you." The enthroned figure rested his chin on a taloned hand. "No doubt you
surfaced unexpectedly in the headquarters of a regional human army. Or
perhaps on the field of battle? For it us known to us that humans are
constantly at war with one another." A chorus of dry, rasping laughs met
that statement. "So tell me, Salm, how many of man's mighty warriors did you
slaughter before you were forced to retreat?"

"N-none, sssire."

"None?" Salaman's brow rose. "You turned tail and ran at the sight of no
less than a hundred armed soldiers, I hope."

"Not...quite, my liege."

"Then what, *quite*?" Salaman asked in a cold tone.

Salm had the grace to bow his head in shame. "Two human
children...femalesss. With powersss beyond reckoning. They--"

He was interrupted by a cacophony of raucous laughter. Salaman, an amused
smirk playing across his face, allowed the laughter to continue for a long
moment before gesturing the throng of saurians to silence with a wave of his
clawed hand. He leaned forward in his throne, his eyes boring into the
disgraced warrior's. "I beg your pardon, Salm. I'm afraid my hearing must
have failed for a moment. I surely did not just hear a warrior of the mighty
[name] Dynasty confess to having been defeated by two human children--two
*female* human children?"

"Lord Sssalaman, you don't underssstand! They were--"

"Children. And they sent you running back with your tail between your legs,
without a shred of dignity, and dismembered." Salaman leaned back in his
throne, all traces of amusement banished from his face. "You have
disappointed me, Salm. Moreover, you have...displeased me."

"My liege--!"

"ENOUGH!" Salaman extended a hand, palm-outward, toward Salm. Crimson arcs
of energy began to crackle between his taloned fingers, forming a burning
dull red sphere. "I have no further use for you, Salm!"

"MASSSTER, NO--!!"

A blinding flash of light, bright as the sun, illuminated the dark caverns
as the sphere of power struck home. When the glare subsided, all that
remained of Salm was a pile of smouldering ash.

"Sahmwehl. Step forward."

A tall saurian with thick grey hide and a crest of small, sharp horns
adorning the crown of his head stepped forward and bowed. "I am yours to
command, Lord Salaman."

"Continue the mission. Do not fail me. If you are defeated, do not return.
Your fate at the hands of the humans will be far more pleasant than any fate
which will await you here."

Sahmwehl bowed once more. "As you command, my liege." He turned and marched
crisply out of the cavern.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

19. Azu/Pulp Fiction: Excerpt from "Pulp Manga"

CHIYO-CHICHI

Your grandfather bought this at a store on an American base in 1950. He gave
it to your father for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and told him to keep
it away from real tomatoes because they're too red. So your father put this
in his pocket and carried it around for years. After you were born, your dad
left to find the his fortune in Ireland. He thought he could catch a
lephrechaun or something. Anyway, he found me, and we became friends even
though he never believed I was a real cat. One day, we were captured by a
gang of Irish football fans and thrown in a pit full of rotten tomatoes.
Your father was dying because they made him drink seventeen bottles of
Bailey's, so he gave me this golden tomato and told me to keep it safe--not
to let anything red get anywhere near it--and to bring it here and give it
to you as soon as I got out of that pit. So I did the only thing I could
think of, I swallowed it. Then I flew out of the pit and left Ireland
because I was only there for the whiskey anyway. That was three years ago.
Yesterday, I crapped out this tomato and remembered your dad asking me to
bring this to you. So here it is, your dad's golden tomato.


20. Ranma/TMNT: Ranma vs Shredder


Crashes of thunder and bright flashes of lightning punctuated the stillness
of the evening. The two families sat around the table in a darkened dining
room, sating their hunger with a meager repast of sashimi and pickles, the
power having failed before Kasumi could cook dinner.

"Sure is one hell of a storm, eh Tendou?" Saotome Genma asked.

Tendou Soun nodded, taking a long, slow sip of his beer. "I haven't seen a
storm like this since the night Nabiki was born."

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "There was a storm the night I was born?" she
asked as she popped a slice of tuna in her mouth.

"It was a terrible storm," Soun replied, nodding. "We couldn't leave the
house, the midwife barely made it here, and even if we'd made it to the
hospital, the power was out across the ward." He frowned. "Actually, most of
Tokyo was dark that night, come to think of it."

"I remember that," Nodoka said, nodding. "Actually...wasn't that the
night..." She flushed.

Genma blinked, then flushed also, grateful that it was too dark for anyone
to really tell.

"The night what, Mom?" Ranma asked.

"Well, the night--well--"

Nabiki chuckled. "I get it! That's hilarious."

"What is?" Akane asked.

"Sounds to me like that's the night they made little Ranma here," the middle
Tendou daughter said with a sly smile.

Ranma choked on a pickle.

"Yes, that was quite a night," Nodoka said, the faintest trace of
embarassment in her voice.

"Can we talk about somethin' else?" Ranma asked.

The door crashed open, startling everyone.

"Oh my! Who could it be in this--?"

Everyone rushed to the foyer, where a cloaked figure stood silhouetted
against the flickering lightning. The heavy thump of the unexpected visitor
collapsing on the genkan was dulled by a soft rumble of thunder. The
umbrella the cloaked figure held demolished the wooden floor, and a fine
spray of water rose into the air.

"Who is it?" Nodoka asked.

"Ryouga," Ranma replied, nodding at the umbrella. "Gotta be."

"That's his umbrella alright," Akane said. "Let's get him inside."

"Oh dear, what could have happened to him?" Kasumi wondered.

******

Ranma had changed in the process of moving Ryouga. The thick leather cloak
which had covered the lost boy from head to foot was drenched, and though it
had been ripped and torn in several places, it had still managed to keep him
dry enough to avoid transforming into a pig.

When he saw the extent of the wanderer's injuries, Ranma cringed, and was
rather glad Ryouga had avoided changing. He wasn't entirely sure P-chan
would have survived.

Nabiki held a flashlight steady over the unconscious boy while Kasumi and
Nodoka took stock of his injuries. "Dear gods, this boy must have been
attacked by a whole gang of thugs!" the elder woman exclaimed.

Ranma shook his head. "No street punks could trash Ryouga this badly." He
eyed the long, deep gashes in the wanderer's arms and legs, and a
particularly unwholesome cut across his cheek. "Whoever did this was
*dangerous*."

Ryouga emitted a groan, and his head turned slightly. A fresh trickle of
blood flowed from the wound on his cheek. "Ugh..."

"Ryouga?" Ranma asked. "Yo, pig, you okay?"

The lost boy opened his eyes slightly. In the dim light cast by Nabiki's
flashlight, his hazel eyes were milky, unfocussed. "R-Ranma?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's right. You're at the Tendous' place. What th' hell happened,
man? You're all fucked up."

Ryouga groaned again, trying to sit up. Kasumi and Nodoka held him down.
"You shouldn't move, Ryouga-kun," Kasumi chided. "You're badly injured."

"Who gotcha, Ryouga?" Ranma asked.

"Nnn...ninja," Ryouga rasped heavily.

"Oh my! You were attacked by ninjas?" Kasumi asked.

"One," Ryouga said. "One...ninja." He looked up at Ranma, pushing his
shoulders up slightly. "Care...ful...tough...terrible...evil..."

Thunder crashed as Ryouga fell to the ground, his eyes closing again.

"He's alive, but we really need to get him some help," Nodoka announced
seconds later.

"A *ninja* did this ta Ryouga?" Ranma asked curiously, shaking her pigtail
over her shoulder. "What th' hell kinda ninja could do THIS ta Ryouga?"

******

Upon the roof of a grocery market in the main shopping street of the
Fuurinkan district stood a massive figure. Despite the howling wind and
driving rain, the ominous figure stood motionlessly, an oak refusing to bend
against the storm.

The young fool had been strong, but unskilled. A pathetic fighter. No
challenge whatsoever.

He needed stronger opponents. His skills were rusting, much as his armour
should have rusted in the driving rain. Eyes narrowed to slits, he gazed out
across the rain-swept streets, the darkness making no difference to him, for
he was ninja--the shadows were his domain, darkness his mantle.

Blood, thinned by rain, dripped slowly from the long, lethal claw attached
to his gauntlet. He clenched a fist. There had to be someone, somewhere, who
would be a worthy challenge. Too long in the shadows of his guise of
respectability had softened him--far too long, for him to have been bested
by such a miserable creature.

And so, he had returned to Japan, the land of his birth. For there would be
no challengers in the accursed land of the gaijin to satisfy him. But
here...

But where?

He leapt silently from the roof, highlighted only briefly by a flash of
lightning, a glistening mass of metal suspended on a curtain of shimmering
rain.

******

Ryouga awoke the next afternoon in a back room of Dr. Tofu's clinic. He
groaned and tried to sit up, but was held in place by a firm pressure. "Hey,
take it easy, P-chan."

"Don't call me--ugh." Ryouga winced. "Whuh--?"

Ranma snorted. "Well, looks like that beatin' you took made ya smarter."

Ryouga took a halfhearted swipe at Ranma, then grimaced. "I feel like hell."

"Yeah? Ya look like hell too. What th' hell happened to ya, man?" Ranma
moved directly into Ryouga's field of vision. "You weren't makin' much sense
last night. Wanna try again?"

The wandered sighed. "You're gonna make fun of me, Saotome, I just know it."

Ranma shook his head. "Ryouga--I know how tough you are. Anyone who got you
this messed up has t' be pretty strong."

Ryouga nodded. "Strong. And skilled. A master."

"You said somethin' 'bout ninja last night, but I figured you were just out
of it."

Ryouga shook his head. "No...it was a ninja. Huge guy, dark armour, lots of
blades on it. He just came outta nowhere. I was tryin'...I was lookin' for
you, an' this crazy ninja just comes flyin' off a roof at me. I couldn't get
a good hit in, he was too fast."

Ranma nodded. "Did you get a name? Any idea what his problem was?"

"Nothin'," Ryouga said, shaking his head. "He just attacked, and I hadda use
Bakusai Tenketsu to get away." He sighed. "Man, I hate runnin' from a
fight."

"Hey, there's a difference between runnin' away from a duel an' runnin' away
from a crazy ninja tryin' t' kill ya, man," Ranma said. "What else d'ya
remember?"

Ryouga shook his head again. "Just that he was stupidly fast and strong, and
his armour had all kinds of blades all over it. And those eyes...burning red
eyes..." He shuddered.

Ranma nodded. "Sit tight, man. I'll go tell the doc you're awake."

******

The bell over the door jingled.

"We're closed," Konatsu said as he wiped down the last table. He glanced
up--and saw nobody in the still-open doorway.

"Hmm." Shrugging, he moved toward the grill--

--and suddenly rolled to the left, sensing danger. A pair of curved blades
tore through the space where his chest had been only a moment before. He
drew a brace of throwing knives from his kimono and whirled, seeking his
assailant.

He barely dodged a second strike, taking the back of a fist across the
shoulder as he dodged. He lashed out with his blades...

...and struck metal, a horrific scraping and clanging echoing in the
stillness. He ducked low, avoiding a lunge at his head, and winced at the
sound of a table being smashed to flinders.

"Konatsu? What's goin' on down there?" a sleepy voice called from upstairs.
Ukyou emerged from her apartment, half-dressed for bed, carrying her large
battle spatula in one hand. The scene she found waiting for her made her
freeze in mid-step, eyes wide.

Konatsu was crouching on the floor, his kimono ripped and his hair in
disarray. A massive armoured figure towered above him, claw-like blades
poised to strike, staring intently at her with burning red eyes from within
a broad, gunmetal helmet.

"HEY! What're you doin' bustin' up my restaurant, y' jackass?" Ukyou
bellowed, swinging her weapon to the ready and jumping the rest of the way
into the dining area.

The intruder spoke in a deep, booming voice. "A..spatula? Interesting
weapon. Defend yourself!"

Ukyou quickly found herself in direct combat with the intruder, parrying
deadly claw strikes and kicks with her spatula. Konatsu dragged himself off
the floor and spread a razor-edged fan. He sprang at the assailant's back,
swiping at the spinal joints of the armour...

A casual backfist caught him across the face, shattering his nose and
sending blood spraying everywhere. "Pathetic," the armoured man sneered.
"Where did you learn ninjitsu, in a tea house?"

Ukyou narrowed her eyes and swung the blade of her spatula at the faceplate
of the mysterious fighter. "Shut up, you!" she cried. "Konatsu, you okay?"

"I can continue to fight, Ukyou-sama!" The effeminate ninja sprang to his
feet, drawing a kotetsu.

"Hmm, not as pathetic as I believed," the intruder mused, casually blocking
strikes from both fighters. "Yet still...not good enough to defeat ME!" With
that, he leapt high and came down in a hard dive, claws extended. Ukyou
stood her ground, while Konatsu readied to throw his sword...

A sickening crack of bone and rending of metal heralded the end result of
the intruder's attack. Konatsu dropped to the ground with a cry, arm gouged
to the bone, his sword dropping uselessly to his side. Ukyou stared as the
haft of her spatula was rent clean through the middle, the blade dropping to
the floor with a clang.

The armoured man nodded to himself, then delivered two backhanded slaps to
his victims.

When Ukyou woke up, the stranger was gone.

******

"Okay, pal," Ranma growled, eyes narrowed to slits and fists clenched. "Just

who th' hell are ya anyway, an' what th' hell're you goin' around beatin' up
everybody for?"

The massive, dark-armoured ninja stood, arms folded, glaring at the teenager
with burning red eyes. "You have power. And skill. I can see it. I can
*feel* it. You may yet be the challenge I seek..."

"Yo, answer my questions!"

"Yet so impatient, so impertinent. First, answer me this: whom am I about to
enjoy the pleasure of killing?"

Ranma smirked. "Saotome Ranma, of th' Saotome Musabetsu-kakutou school, an'
you ain't gonna kill nobody!"

The ninja chuckled ominously. "We shall see, Saotome Ranma. For I am the
master of the Foot clan of ninja, Oroku Saki--but you may call me...the
Shredder."

And before Ranma could form a reply, he was eating steel foot.

******

21. "Ranma's Daughter"

The rain fell in a soft rhythm; it had been raining for hours now. It was
one of those steady, soaking rains; the kind that made one long for a warm
hearth, a soft, thick blanket, and a steaming mug of hot cocoa. A lovers'
rain, a family time rain...a depressing rain, for those with nobody to love
or care for.

The girl pulled her thick, puffy pink jacket tighter against the chill
evening air. Her eyes darted about nervously as she walked beside the tall,
foreboding man in the black suede overcoat and the hat with the brim shading
his eyes. She debated for perhaps the millionth time whether or not to try
to strike up conversation with him, but once again kept her silence; the
grim set of the man's jaw and her unfamiliarity with him would make any
conversation attempt awkward, and she had learned--rather painfully--to
speak only when spoken to.

A part of her, deep down inside, knew that was wrong, but the pain in her
thin, small frame kept that part quiet.

"We're here," the man suddenly said. He pushed through the gate of an old,
somewhat run-down property and marched up the walk to the door; she hurried
her pace to stay with him, and reached his side as he pressed the buzzer.

A tall, pretty young woman with long brown hair and a frumpy dress answered
the door. "Yes? Can I help you?"

The man's expression did not change, nor did his tone, as he replied, "I'm
looking for Saotome Ranma. Is he in?"

"Just a moment, please," the young woman responded.

A moment later, a teenager with black hair tied in a pigtail appeared in the
open doorway. "Yeah? Whatcha want?"

The grim man reached into his coat and pulled out a thick envelope. "Saotome
Ranma?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I have an urgent delivery for you." The man paused. "Might we speak in
private?"

The young man hesitated. "Yeah. Come with me."

Ranma led the grim man and the small girl into the house, not seeming to
take notice of the younger visitor. Through a connecting hallway they went,
entering a small, heavily abused martial arts dojo. Once inside, he turned
to face them, hands behind his back, giving the younger girl a quick,
confused glance. "Okay, what's up?"

The man in the black coat frowned slightly. "Saotome-san, do you recall a
woman by the name of Kanemaru Chiharu?"

Ranma blinked, a puzzled frown on his face for a moment. "Kanema..." His
eyes widened. "Oh yeah, Chiarin!" He grinned. "Man, I forgot about her. Me
an' pop used'ta camp out near her place, an' I got ta know her while I
wasn't at school or trainin'. She was cool."

"She recently passed away."

Ranma's mood dropped like a stone. "Oh, damn. Sorry t'hear that."

The grim man shrugged noncommitally. "Saotome-san, I represent the child
welfare services bureau in this ward. Kanemaru-san had a will, and in it
stipulated with great urgency that in the event of her death, her child--"
He gestured at the young girl beside him-- "should be immediately placed in
the care of her father." He looked at the pigtailed teen intently. "Which is
you, Saotome Ranma."

Ranma choked. "WHAT?!"

"This girl," the black-clad man repeated, "is Kanemaru Hiroko nee Saotome."
He paused significantly. "Your daughter."

22. Untitled Ranma AU fic (tentative title "Ryoma")

A gentle rain pelted the streets of Fuurinkan-cho, the soft sound of
droplets striking the pavement not quite covering the pounding of feet
splashing through puddles, or the angry shouting coming from the northwest.

"DAMN YOU!" a young man's voice growled. "Get BACK here, you stupid old
bastard!"

The scattered handfuls of people who were out and about in the rain watched
the chaotic scene with amusement, confusion, and apprehension. A massive
panda was charging up the street, eyes wide in terror. The boy chasing it
looked angry. Supremely angry.

"Hold still, coward! I'm not finished with you by a long shot!"

The panda skidded to a halt in the rain and spun around, assuming a
defensive stance. The boy unlimbered an umbrella from his backpack and
rushed the animal.

"Hey, should that boy be pickin' on that panda?" one of the onlookers
wondered.

The panda dodged the umbrella strike, and the odd weapon left a sizeable
dent in the pavement.

"You wanna try tellin' 'im that?" someone else asked.

A sign appeared in the panda's paw as it frantically backpedalled away from
the enraged teen. [Son, be reasonable!]

"I AM NOT YOUR SON!!"

[Yes you are--] "GROOOWF!" The panda dropped its sign and skidded backwards
on its behind as the umbrella drove its way home in the beast's gut.

Stashing the umbrella, the young man hefted the animal over his head, and
drove his point home by slamming the dazed panda into the street repeatedly.
"I!" *WHAM* "AM!" *WHAM* "GOING!" *WHAM* "BACK!" *WHAM* "TO!" *WHAM*
"CHINA!" *WHAM* Dusting his hands off, he scowled, showing a glimmer of
fangs. "I don't have time for your stupid bullshit. I've seen hell because
of you! HELL!" With that, he brushed his pigtail back over his shoulder, and
turned to walk away.

Somehow, he found the gates of a large residence where he was sure there was
a road just a moment ago. "Huh? What--hey!" He was shoved through the gate
from behind by the bruised, battered panda.

[You'll thank me for this, boy,] read a sign waved in his face.

The young man sighed. "Well...I guess we can at least get out of the rain
for a bit..."

******

Two young men sat in the steaming furo. "Well? Any idea how to get out of
this mess?" the one wearing a spotted yellow bandana asked.

The other one shrugged and sighed. "This is one'a oyaji's stupidest stunts,
but...well, it *is* family honor. Even if I don't think my old man knows a
damn thing about honor ta begin with." He glanced at the other boy. "You
know, you don't really hafta be part'a this thing. I know you don't wanna be
here, an' we both wanna be cured. Still, it's not like we hafta worry as
much as th' old man does."

The one in the bandana looked down, and shook his head wearily. "No,
Ranma...honestly, I'm tired. It's been so long..." He sighed. "If you're
stayin', then so am I. Besides, better that than what happened the last time
we got split up."

Ranma shuddered. "You got a point, Ryouga. Still, if we stay put, we
probably won't find a cure." He paused. "Or at least a way ta make it stick
for good."

Ryouga growled. "No. Just...no."

"Would it be that bad, Ryouga? It ain't like I wanna lose me, but..." He
looked toward the door. "Think about it. Never havin' ta worry about water,
an' ya know how strong an' fast we are..." He smiled slightly. "An' I think
that Akane chick kinda likes--"

The door slid open. Akane stepped into the room, naked. She blinked.

Ranma blinked.

Ryouga blinked, got a nosebleed, and fainted.

Akane slid the door shut again.

Three seconds later, the Tendou-ke was shaken by the force of a girl's
scream.


23. Street Fighter: "Sakura's Path"


The warrior sat in a plain, unadorned room in a small cabin in the
countryside, meditating over the small, unlit incense pot sitting on the
tatami before him.

As he focused his mind, body, and spirit, the three incense sticks in the
burner slowly began to smolder, eventually glowing a bright, cherry red.

He spread his senses outward...

"So...this is where you've been hiding yourself."

His eyes opened. A woman's voice? But he hadn't--

There! The ki was expertly concealed from his senses, and only became
noticeable as he turned to see the intruder upon his solace leaning in the
doorway.

A young woman, in her early to mid twenties, dressed in a navy business suit
with a modest-length skirt and black high heels. Her hair was worn loose,
stopping at the middle of her back, and she wore round, rimless glasses.
Something seemed familiar about her, but...

"Oh, don't tell me you don't recognise me," she said, smiling. "Then again,
it *has* been a while." She made a playful "come-hiter" motion, then walked
out onto the rocky grounds. Now that he was paying attention to his
surroundings, he wondered how he'd missed the crunch of gravel under her
heels earlier.

Frowning, he rose and followed. The woman had stopped in the middle of the
clearing, bathed in the full moonlight, next to a large handbag. She smiled
at him, then bent down and removed her shoes, placing them in the bag. Next,
she folded her glasses and placed them carefully in a side pocket. She
reached down to her skirt, and with a loud, distinct sound of ripping
velcro, split the seams along the sides. A similar sound of ripping velcro
accompanied the abrupt removal of the sleeves of her blazer.

"What--?" he asked.

She bent down again, reaching into her bag, and withdrew a battered old pair
of sneakers, which she stepped into and laced up. She then removed a pair of
red padded fighting gloves, and after slipping them on, went into her bag
once again, removing...a long white strip of cloth, which she tied around
her head.

She posed, placing one hand on a cocked hip, and grinned at him, gesturing
tauntingly with her other hand. "I did say I'd face you again, Ryu-sama."

Ryu's eyes widened. "Sakura...?"

"And this time, you're going *down*!"

-----TRAIL OF CHERRY BLOSSOMS-----

"Sakura! It's been seven, eight years?" Ryu couldn't help but smile. This
young woman before him was the star-struck schoolgirl who had tracked him
down once and forced him to fight her...the one who had, astonishingly,
copied his moves rather effectively, if inexpertly. For one who had not
formally studied ansatsuken, the schoolgirl had put up an amazing fight, and
had pressed him more than he had let on.

"Yeah, it has. I've still been keeping track of you, though. We almost
crossed paths a few times before I graduated high school..."

"So you finished school...I'm glad. I never bothered with a formal
education, and--"

"You never needed one, because you're a wandering warrior," Sakura cut
across him, smirking. "Besides, between winning tournaments and the
allowance you get from Masters-san, you've got all the money you need, ne?"

"True. But it's not a lifestyle that suits everyone."

Sakura shrugged. "Yeah, I learned that the hard way..."

***************************************

"Kasugano-kun...do you understand why I've called you here today?"

Sakura smoothed her skirt nervously, quailing under the intense, hard stare
of the vice principal. "Ah...is it about my absences?"

"Partially." The middle-aged man shuffled some papers on his desk. "Your
grades, when you bother to attend school, aren't bad. They're not stellar,
but they're not bad. However, you are absent far more than you are present,
and rumors of your...extracurricular activities...well, frankly, they're
detrimental to the reputation of this school."

Sakura winced. "My...extracurricular activities."

"Skipping school to go all over the world getting in street fights isn't a
normal, healthy, or favorable activity for a teenage girl."

"H-hai..."

"Now...it should fall to your parents to keep a rein on you and prevent you
from running wild, but they're obviously not doing it. So, I'm going to--"

"Sensei...don't insult my parents."

"I am not insulting your parents, Kasugano-kun. I know you have a younger
brother, who is very well-adjusted--obviously receiving proper attention at
home. The problem with you is that you are as rarely *at home* as you are at
school." He coughed. "Now, traditionally, problem students such as yourself
are invited to withdraw enrollment."

"You're expelling me?"

"Do you believe I have an alternative?"

Sakura sat silently for a long moment, bangs obscuring her eyes as her
fingers dug into her skirt. At length, she said quietly, "...yes, I do."

"Oh?"

She looked up, fire in her eyes. "The real problem is the damage I'm doing
to the school's reputation, right?" She swallowed, picking at her skirt.
"Then...I'll stop wearing the school's uniform. I can--"

"Kasugano-kun, that isn't--"

"I'm not finished!" Sakura shouted. "Look...Sensei. I'm not going to stop
fighting. I have...a reason. Something I need to do. Something important.
But...I don't want to be thrown out of school and disappoint my parents."
She sighed. "Is there some way I could be...I dunno, an 'off the books'
student? I could study on my own time, and send my work in to be graded,
or--"

"That simply isn't acceptable. Who do you think you are, to suggest
something so ridiculous and arrogant?"

"Who do I think I am?" Sakura asked, standing up, arms held loosely. She
looked her principal in the eye, gaze steely. "I'll show you who I am.
SHINKUU..."

**********

"Bye Mom! Bye Dad! I'll be back in a few weeks!"

"Don't forget to send your homework to the teacher, dear."

"Hai!" Straightening her skirt--blue, unlike the green of her real school
uniform--and adjusting her headband, Sakura slung her small knapsack over
her shoulder and headed for the train station.



GRAND FINALE. Sailormoon: "Walk A Mile" (loosely based on "Decoy")

(Of which I actually have more than a drabble written, so we're making it
the Big Finish...)

(==================================)

Prologue

(==================================)


"That...was....DISGUSTING," Venus complained as the Senshi gingerly cleared
the scene of their latest battle.

"I think I'm gonna crawl into the bathroom for a week," Jupiter groused.

"To bathe or throw up?" Mars asked.

"Maybe both," the taller Senshi replied.

"We should get out of here quickly," Mercury whispered, hurrying her pace.

"Hey! Wait up! Ow, ow, ow, my feet..." Moon whined.

"Hey, it's no picnic for us either, odango-atama," Mars snapped, "but do you
really want to be SEEN like this?"

"...good point," the princess agreed. The five Sailor Senshi sprinted out of
the area, Moon complaining about her abused feet the whole way.

(==================================)

The students who had been trapped inside the building during the battle
rushed from the school, staying well clear of the site of the battle.

Well, with one exception.

Tsukino Shingo stealthily approached the place where the Senshi had fought
the monster, schoolbag slung over one shoulder, carrying a shopping bag he
had 'borrowed' from behind the teacher's desk. In all the confusion,
especially as their teacher had been one of the monster's victims and was
well on her way to the hospital, he doubted anyone would miss it before he
had a chance to slip it back into the school later.

The school day had been viciously interrupted by a horrible sewer monster.
It had erupted from a toilet in the boys' restroom, and quickly made its way
through the halls of the school, covering everything in a thin film of slime
and spreading a horrendous stench that made over half the people in the
building violently ill.

A quick-thinking janitor had repelled the thing with a fire hose, washing it
out into the courtyard before it could accost any of the children, but it
continued to wreak havoc around campus, draining the strength of anyone it
could get close to, permeating the air with a vicious stench.

After several minutes, the Senshi had arrived, and began doing battle with
the monster. It was a tough, brutal, and disgusting fight, as the sewer
thing made no bones about flinging the matter of its creation at the
sailor-suited warriors, and the Senshi themselves were proven to have the
same olfactory weaknesses as ordinary beings.

At one point in the middle of the fight, the monster had launched several
globs of vile muck while the Senshi were in midair, and they were unable to
alter their trajectory enough to avoid landing in it. The gunk thickened and
hardened around their feet, and left them open and vulnerable to an attack
that surely would have taken them out...even Tuxedo Kamen's thrown rose
didn't seem to be able to impede this monster.

So then, faced with certain, smelly doom, the Senshi had used the only
tactic they could think of to avoid their fate.

They jumped right out of their shoes.

While the monster was vulnerable after its finishing attack missed, the
Senshi quickly teamed up on it, and Sailor Moon finished it off. The various
muck that the monster had left all over the school began to decay into a
crusty, crumbly powder substance, and the Senshi beat a hasty retreat,
wanting to get as far away from the stench that lingered after the sewer
monster's demise.

And though everyone else was busy getting ready to leave the area as well,
Shingo had remained, because he'd noticed one thing nobody else had:

The Senshi's assorted footwear was still on the battlefield.

Now, let us pause a moment to examine the workings of Shingo's mind.

It is well-known and documented that Tsukino Shingo is a Sailor Senshi
otaku. To him, the Senshi are the greatest thing that ever happened to
Tokyo, they were so graceful and beautiful and cool and why couldn't his
baka sister be more like them, and their mystique fascinated him. He kept a
scrapbook full of clippings from various newspapers and tabloid rags,
depicting the exploits (real or imagined) of the legendary warrior girls,
and his collection of Senshi memorabilia and paraphernalia was unmatched.

And now, Shingo had the chance to snag the most rare, unique Senshi-related
swag of all time.

To the biggest fanboy in Tokyo, this was tantamount to being personally
handed the freshly-used panties of a popular and beautiful idol singer.

Using some paper towels he'd snagged from a restroom (not the same one the
monster had come out of, thankfully), Shingo gingerly began working the five
pairs of Senshi shoes (well, two pairs of boots, two pairs of shoes, and one
pair of somewhere-in-between) free of the crusty, smelly crud they'd been
mired in. Mercifully, the fetid fecal filth flaked off fairly freely, having
crystallized to the consistency of coffee grounds once the monster was
destroyed. Still, they were rather badly soiled, and Shingo was careful to
keep them well away from his nose as, one by one, he stashed the prized
footwear in the shopping bag. Once ten unique items of apparel had been
collected for posterity, he stood, brushed himself off with the last paper
towel he had, and began making his way home.

(==================================)

"Tadaima!"

"Okaeri nasai, Shingo-kun!" Ikuko called out as her son walked in. She
frowned. "Mou, isn't it a bit early for you to be home?"

"A monster attacked the school," he said with a shrug. "The whole campus is
filthy and half the students and teachers had to be rushed to the hospital,
so..."

"Oh my, how horrible," the woman said. A few years ago, she'd never have
believed such a story, but it had recently become rather well-documented
that there were bizarre monster attacks in Juuban on a regular basis. Of
course, the Sailor Senshi were always on hand to deal with any threats, and
to date there hadn't been many, if any, fatalities from the attacks. Still,
Ikuko often worried about the safety of her children... "Were you hurt? Are
you okay?"

"Yeah, I wasn't anywhere near it," Shingo replied. "Hey Mom, can I borrow
some of your cleaning stuff? I've got something I wanna clean up and
polish."

"Oh? What is it?" Having come out from the kitchen, Ikuko now noticed her
son was holding a shopping bag (where'd he get it? she wondered), and
assumed whatever he wanted to clean was inside. "Is it in there?"

"Yeah, but I wanna get it cleaned up first before I show everyone." He
grinned. "But it's the coolest thing in the whole world!"

"Well...okay, you can borrow whatever you need, just be sure to spread some
paper or something if you're going to be making a mess."

"Okay Mom," Shingo replied before heading to the closet where the household
cleaning supplies were kept.

Retreating to the kitchen, Ikuko smiled to herself. Her children kept her
entertained, if nothing else.

(==================================)

"So you were running around barefoot after the fight?" Luna asked, barely
suppressing a feline snicker. "I really wish I'd gotten there in time to see
that."

Usagi glared at the cat walking along the fence beside her. She'd found Luna
waiting for her not far from her school, and proceeded to fill her in on the
day's activities. "It's not funny, Luna! That ground was really hard!" She
frowned. "I just hope we're not all barefoot again the next time we
transform; that'd be embarassing."

Luna shook her head. "Won't happen...the uniforms completely reform every
time you change; that's why no matter how torn up they get, they always look
brand-new next time you fight. Remember when Mars snapped a heel? It didn't
stay snapped."

"Yeah, I guess." Usagi shrugged. "Maybe I'm worrying about it too much."

"You certainly are, and it's not like you," Luna replied. "Not that I mind
hearing you talk about something else besides boys, manga, or stuffing your
face for once, of course."

"Luna!" Usagi growled, and swiped at the cat with her bookbag.

(==================================)

Shingo frowned at the pile of shoes and boots, spread out on a thick mat of
manga pages he'd spread out on the ground. He'd had to sacrifice a weeky
shounen magazine he hadn't had a chance to read much of yet, but he decided
this was more important than some manga, and he could probably get one of
his friends to give him their copy when they were done with it.

A roll of paper towels...the white, absorbent kind, not the evil, rough,
flimsy brown kind like he'd found in the restroom...rested beside him,
several wads of used towels already stuffed into a wastebasket after he'd
used them to remove the dried, crusty flakes of shit from the Senshi
footwear. Now they lay there, still filthy, but no longer encrusted with
crud.

He pondered the problem of polishing them. No shoe polish he knew of would
work well on these; he didn't know much about shoe polish beyond the black
and white varieties, and he was fairly sure that would ruin these rather
than clean them up. With a sigh, he dipped a sponge in a basin of soapy
water, picked up one of Sailor Moon's red boots, and began to wipe at it.

To his surprise, the filmy muck on the boot wiped right off. Encouraged, he
continued the process, occasionally squeezing out the sponge and dipping it
back into the basin. Several minutes later, a pile of wet, almost-clean
shoes sat on an edge of the paper mat, glistening with the water he'd used
to wipe them down.

Setting aside the basin and sponge, he selected a thick, fine rag, the kind
you use to clean expensive stuff with, and began slowly, meticulously wiping
each of the ten items of footwear clean and dry. By the time he was
finished, five pairs of Senshi shoes gleamed brightly in the sunlight coming
through the window, ready for action or proud display.

"Shingo, I just wanted to let you know there's a snack waiting downstairs
when you're finished..." Ikuko poked her head in.

"Okay, Mom," he replied.

"So, what've you got there...oh my!" Walking in and squatting down beside
her son, the woman looked at the items her son had been meticulously
cleaning, eyes wide. "Shingo?" she asked. "Is there something you want to
tell me?" *Why is my son collecting women's shoes?*

Shingo beamed. "What do you think? This is gonna be the best part of my
collection...nobody else'll have anything like this!"

"Uhhh...they're very lovely, but...shoes and boots? Women's shoes and
boots?"

The boy looked at his mother, and huffed. "SAILOR SENSHI shoes and boots,
Mom," he replied in the tone one takes with someone who should get it but
doesn't. "The Senshi left these behind after the monster attack, and I sorta
picked 'em up when nobody was looking."

Ikuko blinked. "These...belong to the Sailor Senshi?" she asked, looking at
the footwear. *They DO look a bit...unusual...*

"Yeah. See, the monster shot some gunk that stuck them to the ground, and
they couldn't move, so before it could attack they jumped right outta their
shoes and finished it off. I guess they either forgot about them or just
didn't want to try pulling them out of the gunk."

Ikuko examined the filthy water in the basin, the pile of wadded paper
towels in the wastebasket, and the flecks of detritus scattered about on the
manga pages. "Hmm..."

"I mean, it was really gross. I almost didn't, but..." Shingo shrugged. "You
know me, Mom. How could I pass up a chance like this?"

"Well...I guess it's okay," Ikuko replied. "And you did an excellent job of
cleaning them up." She frowned, and turned a stern look toward her son. "But
if the Senshi show up wanting these back..."

"I'll give 'em back, but I don't think they will. I hope not, anyway. Nobody
else has stuff the Senshi actually *wear* in their collections."

The mother shook her head and chuckled. "You kids and your hobbies...well, I
have to go finish dinner. Clean up this mess and come down for your snack if
you want it." With that, she left.

(==================================)

"Tadaima!"

"Okaeri nasai, Usagi-chan," Ikuko said as she walked downstairs. "How was
your day?"

"It was okay," the blonde girl said, shrugging. "You?"

"Oh, fine. Your brother had an interesting day, you know."

"Hontou?" Usagi feigned surprise; she couldn't let on that she knew a toilet
monster had attacked her brother's school.

"Un," the woman replied. "There was a monster attack at his school. A lot of
people had to go to the hospital, but the Senshi stopped it."

"Sugoi!" Usagi said, going into her
'pretend-the-senshi-are-cool-like-Sailor-V' routine.

"Why don't you go up and see your brother later, he found something rather
interesting today," Ikuko said. "Oh, and I have a snack whenever you're
ready for it."

"Thanks, Mom," Usagi replied, accepting the offered plate of cookies and can
of calpis water and making her way upstairs.

(==================================)

Shingo had an interesting puzzle before him.

He'd cleaned up his mess from earlier and washed his hands thoroughly, and
was now examining his find in closer detail. As he did so, he noticed
something peculiar about one of the pairs of shoes before him. Specifically,
Venus' shoes.

"How the hell does she get these things on, anyway?" he asked, turning one
of the orange high-heeled sandals over in his hands. There was a thin
leather strap that didn't seem to be connected to any other part of the
shoe, and yet was still somehow connected. It had no buckles, and by all
rights it looked like anyone trying to wear the shoe would end up with it
sliding off the first time they took a step. It mystified him.

The others were interesting in their own ways. Jupiter's were part boot,
part athletic shoe, with laces and lower heels. Mars' pumps were just what
they looked like...red, patent-leather pumps. Mercury's boots and Moon's
boots seemed to have the same general design, with the exception that the
heels on Moon's were higher, and those also had the only ornamentation to be
found on any of the shoes, the small crescent moons near the tops.

It never occurred to him for even one minute that some might construe it as
odd that a young boy was obsessing over womens' shoes the way he currently
was. Otaku just don't worry about things like that.

(==================================)

Usagi paused in the hallway as she heard her brother muttering in his room.
She leaned closer to have a listen, not really interested in what he was
saying or doing, but sparing the attention out of boredom and the sisterly
desire to know what her brother was up to so she could use it against him at
some point in the future.

"...the hell does she *fight* in these things?" Shingo muttered from the
other side of the door. "Weird..."

Curious, the teen pushed open the door a bit, and was rewarded by a sight
that almost made her drop her afternoon snack.

Her brother, sitting on the edge of his bed, turning a red leather pump over
in his hands.

Now, most older sisters, confronted with the sight of their little brothers
fondling high-heeled shoes, would have a field day. But at the moment, Usagi
found herself unable to formulate any coherent plan of sibling rivalry
attack, because she recognized that particular shoe.

And its twin, which was lying next to a pair of orange shoes she knew all
too well. Which lay beside green ones, which lay beside blue boots...

Which lay beside an all-too-familiar pair of red boots she herself wore on
occasion.

She slid the door open further, and called out, "Shingo?"

The brown-haired boy looked up, and for once didn't make the usual retort
about his sister invading his room. In fact, he was too lost in otaku
rapture to remember to fight with her. Instead, he waved her inside. "Look
what I got today, Usagi!" he said.

Walking in, the odango-haired girl examined the pile of footwear on the
floor and looked at her brother strangely. "What...?"

"The Senshi were at my school today fighting a monster!" Shingo exclaimed.
"They left these behind, and I grabbed 'em and cleaned 'em up! Aren't they
cool?"

"Uh, yeah...but what...?"

"Nobody else in the whole world has anything like this!" Shingo ranted, lost
in his own little fanboy world. "Isn't it the greatest?"

"Sure, Shingo," Usagi said weakly. She picked up one of the tall red boots,
examining it carefully. Her brother, she had to admit, had done a rather
thorough job of cleaning the toilet monster muck off the shoes. "So, what're
you going to do with them?"

"I'll keep 'em, of course," he replied. "For my own little Senshi
collection. Like I said, nobody else has anything like it. Everyone I
know'll be so jealous!"

"Right," the blonde replied. "You're not...gonna do anything weird with
these, are you?"

"Huh? Weird? What do you mean?"

"...nevermind." Shrugging, Usagi turned to leave, forgetting all about the
cookies and drink she'd left on the desk in her brother's room. By the time
she'd even think to remember the food, Shingo would have already consumed
it.

(==================================)

"What's wrong, Usagi?" Luna asked as the teen walked into her room and
plopped down on the bed.

"Shingo has my boots," she said. "And Ami's, and Rei, Minako, and Makoto's
shoes. He's got all of 'em."

The cat blinked. "He does?"

Usagi nodded. "He must have stayed behind after the attack and collected
them. He brought them all home and cleaned them up for his 'Senshi
collection.'"

Luna laughed softly. "Well, there's no harm in that, I suppose."

"No harm? Don't you think that's a bit weird?"

Red eyes peered up at blue ones intently. "Would you rather some stranger
had them? Maybe taking DNA samples and trying to figure out who you are? Or
putting them in a museum, or copying the designs to make a fortune in the
shoe market, or just being perverted with them?"

Usagi blinked. "Well, when you put it that way..."

"They're just shoes, Usagi. Like I said, you'll have more when you transform
again. They can't do any harm, and it won't hurt anything for Shingo to add
them to his little collection. Though why anyone would want boots you'd
stuck your smelly feet in is beyond me..." The cat nimbly dodged a thrown
pillow.

"My feet do NOT smell!" Usagi complained.

"Whatever you say, stinky," Luna said with a catty grin.

(==================================)

Chapter One

(==================================)

Three years later...

"Shit...shitshitshitshitshit," Shingo muttered as he stormed through the
front door.

"Hey! Don't talk like that, dammit!" Chibiusa snapped from where she sat
with her friend Hotaru in the living room.

Hotaru giggled, then looked up at Shingo. "What's wrong, Shingo-kun?" she
asked.

"It's Mika's birthday, and I totally forgot," the boy moaned miserably. "I
asked her over, and she'll be here in a bit, but I don't have a present for
her..."

"Oh, that's terrible," Hotaru said.

"Baka, forgetting your girlfriend's birthday. It serves you right," Chibiusa
huffed.

"Chibiusa! He feels bad enough about it already...don't you, Shingo-kun?"

"Yeah." Shingo plopped down on the couch beside the two girls, putting his
head in his hands and moaning pitifully. "What'm I gonna *do*?"

"Well...do you have anything you could give her, or make something out of as
a last-minute gift?" Hotaru asked.

"I don't know..." the boy said. "I just don't even know what to give her,
really. I'm never any good at this kind of stuff."

"Tell you what," Hotaru said, standing. "I'll help you find something,
okay?"

"Hontou?" Shingo asked, looking up at the small, dark-haired girl.

"Hai," she replied, smiling brightly. "I'd be happy to help!"

"Arigatou, Hotaru-chan!" Shingo stood, and bolted upstairs. Hotaru followed
him at a more sedate pace.

"Hey, wait up!" Chibiusa groused, following the two of them for lack of
anything better to do.

(==================================)

"You sure do have a lot of unusual stuff," Hotaru commented, leafing through
a binder stuffed with news clippings detailing the exploits of the Sailor
Senshi. There were also action figures and models of the Senshi, a few
T-shirts, and some other such paraphernalia stuffed in a box.

"Heh...well, I used to collect anything I could get hold of about the Sailor
Senshi," Shingo said, blushing. "I was kinda obsessed. Then I got to junior
high, and I didn't really have time for it anymore, and they haven't been
seen much lately, so...I kinda grew out of it, I guess." He shrugged.

"Sou ka," Hotaru replied as she repacked the box and pushed it back into the
closet. As she did so, she bumped against another, larger box, and carefully
removed it, trying not to dislodge any stray junk from the haphazard pile in
the corner.

Shingo saw the box Hotaru was pulling out, and his eyes widened. "I'd
forgotten all about those," he said quietly.

"Hmm?" Hotaru asked, opening the box...and staring at its contents. Beside
her, Chibiusa was similarly wide-eyed.

"I used to call that my greatest treasure," Shingo said. "I guess I could
still think of it that way in a sense. It's still pretty unique."

"What...?" Hotaru gasped, lifting a familiar boot out of the box.

"Sailor Senshi footwear, left behind after a monster attacked my school
about three years ago," the brown-haired boy explained. He laughed.
"Everything was dirty and smelly, and most of the kids were eager to get the
heck outta there, but I stayed behind despite the mess and the stink just to
get my hands on those. I was really, really obsessed."

"Sou..." the dark-haired girl examined the contents of the box. "You took
really good care of them, I see."

"Polished them nearly every day," he replied, a touch of pride entering his
voice. "Well, until I didn't have time and then forgot I even had them.
They're easy to take care of, though." He paused. "Say...you think Mika
would like...?"

Hotaru caught his meaning, and picked up the red pumps that had once
belonged to Sailor Mars. "I think she'd love these. They match her hair and
everything."

Shingo, being male, never once considered the possibility that taking
fashion advice from a girl who routinely wore form-fitting black outfits
that covered everything but her head and hands might not be a good idea. All
he saw in his mind was "Girlfriend's Birthday + Expensive-Looking Shoes =
Happy Girlfriend = Not Getting Killed or Dumped = Maybe Getting Laid".

"Let's find a shoebox and some wrapping paper then, quick!" Shingo decided.

(==================================)

"Hello, Mika-chan!" Ikuko said. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," Kayama Mika replied as she slipped off her shoes and stepped
into the house.

"I heard Shingo run upstairs a bit ago; I think he's wrapping your present."
She smiled. "I figured you'd be coming by, so I made some special cupcakes
for you kids today."

"That's very nice of you," Mika said, blushing as she walked in. A moment
later, Shingo came down, along with Chibiusa and a girl Mika recognized from
the school she and Shingo attended...Tomoe Hotaru, she placed the name after
a moment.

"Hi Mika-chan...happy birthday," Shingo greeted, walking over and hugging
his girlfriend.

"Thank you, Shingo-kun," Mika said, smiling. As the group seated themselves,
Shingo held out a box to the redhead, his face approaching the color of her
hair.

"Ummm...for you," he said with a blush.

Ikuko emerged from the kitchen at that moment with a tray of cupcakes. "Oh?
Is that your present from Shingo-kun?" she asked. At the girl's nod, the
woman seated herself and said, "Well, why don't you open it and show us what
he got you?"

"Hai," Mika said, joining the others around the living room table. She
carefully unwrapped the box, then lifted the lid...and her eyes widened.
"Ara..."

"I hope you like them," Shingo said.

The redhead extracted the pair of red leather pumps from the box, and
beamed. "They're beautiful..." She looked at Shingo. "They must have been so
expensive...I can't..."

"Don't worry about that, Mika-chan," Shingo said. "Please don't worry. All
that matters is making you happy."

Mika's eyes shone. "Oh, Shingo-kun..."

Ikuko smiled. "Why don't you try them on, dear?"

"Are you sure?" Mika asked. At the woman's nod, she slipped off her house
slippers and socks, and gingerly stepped into the shiny shoes. She carefully
stood, taking a few shaky steps in the high heels. "They fit great," she
said. "Thank you, Shingo-kun, they're perfect." She sat down and took them
off, putting them neatly back in the box and slipping back on her socks and
slippers. She then leaned over and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek.

Shingo blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "You're welcome, Mika-chan.
You'll have to wear them when we go out sometime."

"Hai!"

(==================================)

Wow, I'd actually honestly forgotten some of these even existed. @_@

There you have it. Twenty-four random pieces of fanfics in various states of
incompletion. Hope you didn't have anywhere important to go instead of
reading this crap.

And remember...C&C. ^_^

================================
Please do not stare at my crotch.
              ~~*~~
The Eternal Lost Lurker
www.lurkerdrome.com




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