The commissary at Seijun Campus was very much like any other cafeteria she'd ever been in.  Which really was a good many, when Yurika thought about it, as the less relevant bits of her education had been farmed out to respectable private institutions ever since she was very small.  Somewhere deep in the bowels of the Kirishima manor, in a closet space that likely could have been rented for hundreds of thousands of yen given the extremely pricey location, there lay a veritable graveyard of embroidered blouses and pleated skirts.  Stockings and patent leather shoes littered the floor as much as cleaning staff and her own compulsions towards neatness would allow, and one first sight one could likely divine at least a dozen crests of generally European heraldic origin. 

Seijun, then, was nothing beyond a comfortable typical. Although she might admit under a certain duress that yes, she was rather fond of the swan and tulip emblems.  It was certainly preferable to that dreadful gaudy thing they'd been saddled with at her poor brother's educational home. 

Most normal, perhaps, was the fact that she was sitting alone in the back left corner of the room.  A gravitation, if you will, that had not gone unnoticed as she reviewed her own behavior from years past.  Certainly there must be some sort of symbolism to it.  Left - the Sinister Path.  A natural proclivity strengthened by her own unconscious desire to both avoid any undesired limelight and fulfill the subconscious need to express her own less than legal activities. 

Or maybe she just liked that that was where the sun came in, and it was easier to read that way. 

Upright, legs crossed, the Kirishima exchanged one page lightly washed with yellow for another, and peered unobtrusively over the top of her copy of Grey's Anatomy.  She was not enrolled in Biological Sciences this term, but one never knew when the exact location of the human spleen could come in handy. 

A pointed turquoise stare always seemed to be less than inviting, and that too was something she liked.  The corner in the left back was not meant for greater things than questionable salad and literature.

The girls at which she stared, and who after a certain incident involving the use of her bowstring to sever several vital bits of school clothing from the body one fine initiation day, ignored her.  This was good, as she was more than passingly acquainted with their table as well.  To put it in crude American terms, it was a 'popular' place to be.  The sort of table that had things carved into it - that saw alot of action.  There, amidst quietly meandering collective chat of the student body, was an island of inconsequentialities.  They were richer than most, of course, though likely not as rich as her.  There too lay the self-esteem problems of the world.  And girls so given over to the purpose of beautiful that they practically glowed.  Which was not to say that some of them were not indeed successful, and that they did not indeed learn relevant social maneuvering skills in their current positions.  But surely it must be obvious to any conscientious observer that they isolated themselves so much from the rest of the miniature world - a diamond in the river - that they lost touch with the reality that they were admittedly masters of.  The United States of social scene. 

It amused her to see her erstwhile friend's roommate in the thick if that little melieu.  A shame, that she must work so hard to support such a strange habit.  But then, American was all about the so-called 'pursuit of happiness', and who was she to deny the unsubversive pleasure of adulation brought on by a pair of Manilo shoes?

The assassin, of course, was Switzerland.  She enjoyed money.  And chocolate. And numbers of a tenuously legal nature. And her invisible little table in the left back corner. 

Before her stretched dozens of balkanized tartan states - trussed up in a play just for her if she deigned to observe. Two tables over the fine arts students cluttered together in the semblance of gloriously cultural arrogance.  They pantomimed and indulged the excesses of a 'creative' spirit, and injected transcendental meanings into chipped paint on the wall.  They also smuggled in a great deal of cigarettes.  Perhaps a little extasy, if it could be found.  Fitting, for France. 

Nearby an industrious pack of medical aspirants tried pointedly to ignore their neighbors antics, and focused on books very similar to Yurika's Grey's.  Obsessed with resumes and fact sheets - banners of their own success and Meaningful Dissertations on the Good they would do if only they achieved four-point-oh - the number of both death and perfection.  A few had the dedication to be on speed.  Many weren't.  In either case, she had to admire Germany's insular little work ethic.

Back right corner.  Someone giggled - screeched.  Brazil.  The immigrants.  International exchange students.  Lets get ready for the rainbow tour girls.  Strange, how they kept to themselves.  Chattering in languages no one else spoke for the sheer taunting value of it.  Or else they might just be afraid. They were different, after all - loud at all the times it looked od too here, and quiet in much the same way.

Shifting in her laquered-pine seat, Yurika took a quick sip at her orange juice.  It would not do to get less than the recommended daily allowance of vitamin C.  Further off, in the wilderness of... 

"Hey." 

Yurika started at a voice in her direct field of vision. Switzerland is not a tourist attraction. "Hello?"

"Ummm... can I sit here?  Would you mind?" the alto rasped quietly.  Two weeks since the incident, and she still felt the need to ask.  It was polite, at least.

"Go right ahead," Yurika said smoothly - partially to cover for the fact that she had little idea what to say. 

And the biker started eating - tearing into the lasagna that Yurika had passed on. She was using the wrong for, but it might not be entirely diplomatic to point that out.  Akira was uncommunicative as it was. 

And the biker kept eating.  Yurika should say something.  What was she supposed to say?  She was trained in small talk for polite company, but this was entirely.. no.  Now she was playing with her food, and that was entirely inappropriate behavior.  This was more difficult than initially anticipated. 

How could this place be so quiet when so many people were talking? 

"You see that table up there?"

"Hmmm?" Akira sounded around her food.

"Russia."

"How d'you figure?"

"They're outcasts.  Would-bes. Their parents went bankrupt when the stock market crashed, or they came in on scholarship."

"No way," Akira shook her head and pondered a forkful of what looked like cottage cheese that had somehow crept into a perfectly good pasta dish.  "It's gotta be Italy."

"Why do you suppose that?" 

With a shrug, Akira scraped the offending substance off her utensil and on to her bread plate.  "Because there goes the mafia."

Ah.  Yes.  Saori was walking in.  It was a marvel how she had tapped into the market like that, acquiring a duo of nondescript henchwoman after making some alternate contacts with the local Chinese syndicate eager for expansion.  The stocky girl smirked their way as she wafted past. 

"Or Columbia, perhaps?"

"Nah.  It's gotta be.. maybe they are Russia.  Columbia and Italy have no amateur mobs.  They know that's they're doing."

"Good enough."

The mechanic searched about for some creamers for her coffee while trying to avoid the large lump of text in the middle of the table.  "So who do you peg for the UN - the Capo Regime, the Soubanchou?"

Ah yes.  That was always the trouble with these places, wasn't it?

"There isn't one."

"...Figures."

Chatter chatter chatter all around.  Gears and pendulums back and forth in minuscule little plots. Akira pulled out something entirely too innocuous for having such arcane diagrams in it out of her bookbag, and settled in while Yurika took up Grey's again.  If the stares and the funds had not settled it, then the flame-colored motorcycle and gym-class displays of independent martial arts training certainly had. 

It was good to be them. 

***
 

Sakura Yugure, meanwhile, was wandering the streets of Tokyo after the events on Mount Fuji. {It's easy to *talk* about finding a place, finding acceptance - but where do I start?} she wondered. {It's not as if I have a map saying 'Darkstalker-types accepted on Earth here.'}

Her absent ponderings went on for some time - even *she* wasn't sure how long - before a familiar sign on a shop caught her eye. {Hey, that's the Oishii Snack Shop - where I always used to meet Hinata Wakana. Good ol' cheerful Hina-chan...}  She paused wistfully, and then shook her head. {Arrgh! That's not *my* life! That's Sakura *Kasugano's* life I'm remembering!}

Still, the temptation was strong as she gazed upon the shop. {It would be so simple... to just go in, wait for Hina-chan, get her into a corner booth and explain what happened - if *anyone* would accept me, she would...}

A pause, and then she shook her head. {And if there's a single rejection that would be the worst, it would be hers,} the Satsu fighter thought with a cringe. {No. Well, maybe... Oh, if I only had some way to predict how she'd react! ...No. I'm - I have to admit it, I'm *scared.* After my friends attacked me like that in the Hikawa Shrine... I just don't know if I could bear that again.}

A thought occurred to her, another snatch of memory - the fellow fighter against the corrupted Justice High, a forceful, leather-wearing biker who had transformed into a shy and demure girl once she'd shown her face. {Oh yeah, the sister of Gedo High's *soubancho...* Akira, that was her name! She was fun to talk martial arts with when she had the helmet on, and she became 
as shy and retiring as Hinata's friend Iinchyo with it off... maybe *she'd* understand what it's like, to be two things at once.} Sakura let out a long sigh. {I have to start somewhere! Gedo it is, then!} she decided, and after a moment to get her bearings, jogged off for the seedier part of the district.

***

Upon her arrival at Gedo High, however, Sakura found two obstacles to her plan.

First, Akira was not in her homeroom or the garage.

Second, everyone whom she might have asked about Akira was in a panic. Daigo was apparently agitated about something and looking for a sparring partner - and Gan, the usual cantidate, wasn't around, which meant everyone was trying to make sure someone *else* was first in line.

{That suits me fine,}</i> Sakura thought. <i>{I could use a good fight too.} With that, she attracted a number of stares ranging from incredulous to disbelieving and all the way into horror when she walked into the Gedo gym and cheerily called out, "I'll spar with you, Daigo-soubancho!"

***

Some time later, Sakura was deposited with a *crash* though a cracked table and bounced to a halt against the wall. Shaking off the hit, she rolled to her feet, but Daigo was no longer relentlessly advancing on her as he had been for the rest of the match. "Does this mean you've worked off the worst of it?" Sakura asked, rolling her shoulder and popping her neck and back. {That was actually fun,} she thought to herself. {Daigo's tough enough that I could take a few full-out swings of my own. I needed that.}

Daigo, for his part, nodded and let out a breath that sounded like the prelude to a hurricane. "Yes. Thank you, Sakura-san," he replied, then asked, "Did I hear you asking about Akira when you were on your way in here?"

"Yes," Sakura admitted. "I wanted to talk to her about - well, the stuff that's happened since Hyo and all that. But she doesn't seem to be here."

Daigo nodded. "I sent her to Seijun - the local Windermere campus - so she could be separated from all this." His wave took in the school and the students, two of whom were doing a drug deal under the *soubanchou's* eye.

Sakura wanted to nod in understanding and choke in disbelief at the same time. {I can see her quiet self getting along well there - but what about the side of her that took to Gedo like a fish to water??} she wondered, and finally managed the nod.

Daigo gave her a sudden serious look, and then stared her in the eye. "Yugure-san... can I trust you to give Akira a message from me? Akira has... encountered some difficulty at Seijun. I can't go there myself or I'd make matters worse... but you wouldn't arouse the same suspicions. I dislike 
asking favours, but nobody here at Gedo is suitable to send to Seijun this way..."

Sakura nodded. "Of course you can. I know you'd never harm her, any more than she would you."

Daigo let out a gusty sigh - part relief, part preparation. "Then tell her she's to break off all contact with the girl who's posing the problem. She'll understand - I hope *why* as well as what."

Sakura nodded solemnly. "Break off all contact with the girl who's posing the problem. Got it." She turned away, and paused. "By the way... I'll also give her your love, even if you can't tell me to here in front of the gang."

And with that, Sakura jogged out of Gedo on her way to another school entirely.

***

She found herself stonewalled later on, however, at the very gates to her objective.

By a Gatekeeper from Hell.

{Damn, I've met more reasonable sorts *in* Makai,} Sakura thought, though her annoyance level left her unable to find any humour in her statement.

Taking a deep breath, she summed up the one-sided debate thus far. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You can't let me in to see my friend Akira Kazama because I'd need the sponsorship of a Seijun student or staff member who knew me. You can't sponsor me to go in. You can't leave your post to go find someone who can. I understand that much. Can you use your intercom to call Akira so *she* can sponsor me?"

"No, I'm sorry," the officious little woman said from inside the gatehouse. "Not unless you know her schedule so I could call a particular room."

{That thin, nasal voice of hers is *really* starting to bother me,} Sakura growled to herself. "Then can you call the registrar so we can ask 
them?"

"No, miss. I'd need special authorization to get schedule information."

{Arrgh!} "Um, who could give that authorization?"

"Hmm. Maybe the headmistress could."

{Ah! Finally, progress!} "Then can you call her on the intercom and ask? Then we can find out where Akira is and you can call her for me!" Sakura asked, performing her best Puppy-dog Eyes as she did.

The gatekeeper was completely unmoved. "I'm sorry, but I don't know the headmistress's schedule for the day, so-"

Sakura groaned. "-you can't just page her everywhere, I remember. So who *would* know his schedule?"

"Hmm. Her secretary's on a week's holiday. The only others who would know are... the registrar's office."

This time Sakura shrieked aloud. "ARRRGH! That's it! I'm out of here, you obstructionist stonewaller! I don't know *why* you're giving me the runaround, but you can bet there'll be recriminations!" she ranted as she stormed away, stomping off around the curve of the Seijun compound wall.

Once she'd gone a few hundred yards, she stopped. {All right, I'm doing this the way I should have in the first place,} she thought, still almost growling at herself. A moment's concentration served to modify Sakura's Tamagawa Minami uniform into the more prim and proper Seijun fuku. 
That done, she strode farther around the wall until she saw trees in the compound that would shield what she was about to do from prying eyes... and jumped, clearing the high sandstone wall by a good five feet.

A quick look around revealed no one who seemed to have seen her entrance, and Sakura walked calmly out of the stand of trees and asked one of the local students where the garage was for the Academy. {If there's anywhere that I'm most likely to find Akira-chan, it's there,} she reasoned, and set out in the indicated direction.

***

After a short walk, Sakura arrived at the Seijun garage, and grinned a bit at the scent of grease, even if it *was* enough to wrinkle her nose a tad. Peering inside, her cursory glance revealed a young boyish figure in overalls working on a motorcycle. {Probably a staff mechanic - or maybe 
apprentice, since he seems kind of young,} she thought. {Still, if there's *anyone* who would know Akira here, it's the mechanics.} Stepping inside and pulling the door mostly closed to fend off the wind, Sakura asked, "Um, excuse me? Sir? Could you tell me where Akira Kazama is? I was told she was at Seijyun, and the other students seemed to think she'd be here..."

The figure stiffened at the question, and whirled about, trying to hide behind the bike and revealing *HER* blushing face - a familiar face to Sakura to boot.

"..exCUSE me?" Akira Kazama asked.

Sakura, of course, was mortified. "EEEP! A-a-Akira-chan!! Gomen gomen gomen! I - I didn't know it was you!! With the mechanic's jacket covering everything, and... and... Oh I'm soooo embarrassed! Sorry..." she babbled, covering her face in her hands just like Akira was starting to.

Akira paused, seemed to muster her courage, and spoke.  "Oh. Ummm...... hi.  Is that... is that you, Sakura?  You look... different."

"Um, yeah, it's me," Sakura replied, still a deep shade of red from embarrassment. "I look different?" she went on. "..It must be the Seijyun fuku... or the blush. I'm really really sorry!" she apologized again.

Before Sakura could go on, a soft, cultured voice drifted in from the hallway. "Is everything quite alright in there, Akira?"

"Oh? Who's that?" asked Sakura, hearing the voice.

"Oh.. I see," Akira answered, not replying immediately to the latter question. "Why... are you here, now?  Going here, I mean?" she asked, still almost hiding behind her motorcycle.

From the hallway where the voice had come strode in a girl in a formal dress and carrying, of all things, a violin. "Yurika Kirishima," she introduced herself with a nod to Sakura. "I did not see you come in."

Sakura, for her part, nearly stalled over the introductions. "Sakura," she began, and paused as she wracked her brain for any recollection of whether Akira had been given Sakura *Kasugano's* full name. Giving up, she gambled. "Sakura Yugure." Turning to Akira, she answered the shy girl's question. "And why I'm here? Well, I stopped by the area and your brother pointed me 
your way," she finished with an easy smile. "It's OK, I know we were all under a lot of stress back at Justice High. I just thought I'd like to see you again."

Akira blinked. "Oh.  It's... umm.. nice to see you?  That is.. I was just saying.. if you'd like to..." she stammered.

Yurika stepped in, seemingly trying to smooth things over. "Perhaps the both of you could catch up on old times now?  It must be interesting to meet again after that... regrettable incident." The pale girl shook her head.  "The power was wielded entirely irresponsibly in that case..."
 

***

Well.  This was turning out to be a.... day.

Yeah.  A Day.  That's what she could call it. 

Where on earth had Sakura Yugure come from? This was... ack.  People wanting to see her always flustered Akira.  And the great thing about the garage was that you always knew when people came in even if she hadn't heard Sakura who was a martial artist and they weren't really close friends or anything but Sakura was probably only trying to be nice and...

Breathe. 

Stop looking at the floor. 

You're a big girl.  You can handle this. 

"Do tell," the tomboyish-looking girl grinned.  It took a special sort of person to still look like a tomboy in Seijun clothes, with the little blouse and blazer set.  The tulips and the swans.  Akira would have preferred something in black, but... well.... hey, how had she gotten a Seijun uniform anyways?  Was she going here now? " I take it you heard about that debacle then? You've probably been trying to get details out of Akira here."

The uniformed girl turned towards Akira, and she retreated backwards into the baggy folds of her mechanic's uniform.  Oh... this was so... and then Sakura would see how she had not many friends here and there was just so much pressure and... 

"Daigo sends his regards," Sakura extended her hands with a  coaxing little gesture.  "Come on, you 
don't have to hide. We're friends, right?"

Friends? 

Akira didn't have friends that were all bright like that, playing Pokemon and listening to Shounen Knife and buying doujinshis.  She'd never had a friend like Sakura Yugure.  And she wasn't sure she was starting now. 

In the ether of her imagination, the usual doomsday scenarios started circulating.  Of course with someone normal around she'd embarrass herself and...

" I... suppose so." Akira shook a strangely cold hand, because it seemed like the sort of thing that Daigo would do. "I guess I don't really... I mean.... it seems like a long time ago, I guess..."

Oh yeah, yeah.  There was a good response.  Most people caught her 'go away' vibes by now...

A slight clearing of an even slighter throat charged in as sonic cavalry from the corner.  Yurika to the rescue. 

"If you'll allow me to interrupt..." Yurika almost... drawled?  Yurika never drawled.  She commented, or asked politely, but she never ever drawled.  It was like... knowing Kirishima was kind of like watching a lake.  One of those high-up mountain lakes where the water is still and gleaming pure because too much acid rain has killed off all of the fish and the plant life. Even though it's pretty toxic, it just looks really peaceful.  You'd never know that someone had caused a few small rebellious ripples unless you looked very carefully, and knew the secrets of telling stones from the bottom from displaced water. 

"How DID you get in here?  I... of course, inquire as an extra entrance would serve as a convenient shortcut for myself or my compatriot,"  her friend's voice sank back into the usual calm, but Akira knew it was too late for that.  Catching Sakura out the corner of her eye, she went silently on guard.  Not because of Sakura, she was all... cheerful and stuff that Akira usually didn't bother with since it was kind of pointless, but still, she couldn't be anything weird but Yurika must have picked up on something, and she could probably be trusted since you'd meet alot of fucked-up people as a contract killer (kind of like drug dealers but probably less high and harder to beat down, Akira gathered)...

Damn. 

Raizo do bad thing.  Bad thing hurt brother and other people that are not brother.  End bad thing. Hurt Raizo.  Make brother safe.  End!  Hurray! 

Why wasn't anything ever simple like that anymore? 

"Eh?" the foreign schoolgirl blushed a bit again, and it was a bit disarming if Akira let herself admit it.  Which she didn't.  This was just.. too fucked up.  " I.. er...  I jumped over the 
wall," Sakura continued with a murmur.  Murmurs didn't sound right on her, which was why it was good that they stopped.  "Stupid gatekeeper... I *said* I had a friend and identified her by name! Would it have taken *that* much to check??"

See?  That sounded so normal.  It sounded so.. Sakura!  But Yurika... something couldn't be right, though damned if Akira knew what it was. She would probably read people better if she actually looked at them. 

"I... see," Yurika paused, getting that pondering look that was one wrinkle of her forehead past serenity. 

"As I was commenting then, the misuse of such power was regrettable to an extreme.  But," Yurika shot Sakura a... a... look, and then the whole normal thing was shot to hell again. She was right.  Right, dammit.  Something was off and the mechanic (who specialized in workings) was chagrined to find she had no idea what. "  If something unfortunate were to happen, then I assure you my 
brother would be able to work more incisively.  You know that, right Akira? We've never spoken of it, but I assure you, we'd never be.... untoward, or harm your brother."

Okay, okay, nooooo panic.  Personal situations are not a reason to panic, dammit.  But Akira couldn't help but feel a certain chill of discomfort.  This was really strange.  Yurika was just talking about her brother and everything in front of a stranger?  The way her voice went dark.. it was almost a threat.  And it make Sakura look darker too, somehow, as a cloud of annoyance passed by her.  Less normal than she was supposed to be. 

Maybe... no, Sakura'd always been the classically  'good' one.  The one without problems.  Yurika was just.. in a mood or something. Right. 

"Hah? Um, okay, suuuure..." the brunette blinked, casting an aside at Akira.  Of course she wouldn't know what Kirishima was doing.  Playing with the edge of her violin bow as she settled herself with a graceful hop onto the counter.... "She's odd. Is she like this often?"

"Yurika is concerned about my thinking bad of her and her brother, since he goes to Justice High," Akira... well... the martial artist attempted to shoot a Look at her friend, but somehow had the feeling that it had taken a nosedive halfway to destination.  This was just not her thing.  "   It's nothing to do with you.  And a very long story.  It's nice to see you, though.  After the battle it seemed you'd disappeared."

Yes!  Umm.. subject change was good, right?  Maybe class would be soon.  yes. Class.  Never had she looked quite so much forward to lit with Ms. Meiji. 

"A-ahahaha! Disappeared? I... I guess it would, wouldn't it? Sorry, Hinata knew I was going to look for Ryu again, and I guess I kind of assumed everyone else did too. Gomen... "  Sakura looked embarrassed then.  Oh well.  At least she hadn't noticed Yurika being... not Yurika. 

The sometimes-biker took her time to reply slowly, levering herself up from her semi-crouched position behind the most beloved of steeds and onto it's leather seat. Somehow, she got the feeling that this was going to be a long conversation.  "It's all right.. we were just wondering.  With... being in things like that, you always seemed different from the rest of us.  I.. I mean.. not in a bad way.. but..."

Arctic-blue eyes flared back to life from their languid (forced?) semi-boredom and snapped to attention.  Great.  Now Yurika was interested.  Not another thing she'd messed up.  Couldn't people just leave her alone? 

"Different?" the albino's remark seemed innocent enough. 

"Yeah, " the still-standing street fighter slumped a bit. "I'm a Street Fighter. I've had matches with 
World Warriors and I've traveled the world seeking the Grand Champion Ryu Hoshi."  Suddenly, the slump pulled itself up into annoyance and an exaggerated sigh. " Are you going to freak out now, Kirishima-san? That's how I could jump the wall. Oh wait, I know, another horrified lecture on how that is Not the Place of the Girl in Japan..."

Sakura was glaring expectantly.  But Sakura would not glare expectantly.  Sakura would fight the good fight, be that bouncing thing that, really, Akira hadn't been much able to tell from that trivial  Hinata except in terms of superior skill.  Girls like that did not glare and make threats unless you did something like beat up a  kitten. 

Yurika had been right. 

Well, fuck. 

"You fight for money, then, from these backalley tournaments?  That I can understand better than you know... you attract interesting friends, Akira. Is there a possibility she..."

Business?  Oh no.  That Sakura would cause a scene.  GOddamit.. where was her.. she couldn't deal with this.  What was she supposed to do?  Brown eyes searched out salvation in the asymmetrical breaks between bricks in the walls. 

"NO." 

That should be plain enough.

"*Please,* I don't fight for the money, it's the best way I know to improve my skills and my self." the 'World Warrior' smirked in response. "and the World Warrior tourneys are *not* back-alley! Where have *you* been for the last few years, in an ivory tower?"

Or maybe it was Sakura, then.  She and Hinata were such... punks.  Easy to destroy for personal growth when you've never been hurt. 

But then, who was she to talk?  The mechanic elected not to. 

"You train to destroy, but.. do not?  Then what, pray tell, is the attraction? And I am far too busy for television spectacles, if you'll excuse my ignorance."

Oh, nono.  Leave it alone, Yurika... 

"Yurika.. she didn't mean.... please, Sakura, don't be angry.  It's just that.. not all of us have the option just to fight simply for the pleasure of it."

The student ahd never really tried being diplomatic before, but... a fight would draw even more people.  Was she doing it right?  Her fingernails scratched unvoiced questions into the seat-cover. 

"Before you ask, I kill for money," Yurika said matter-of-factly. " My whole family does.  Not all 
fights are shining like yours, World Warrior.  And... you'll pardon my rudeness, but you have to understand that with such people I have to be wary, as some of your own would no doubt love to have competition out of our... business."

Sakura was even more taken aback than Akira was.  What was Yurika doing? "Ah. Um, I see why you were a bit... wary of me coming over the wall then. You *personally* kill? I didn't sense anything- " the short-skirted girl paused for a second. "Um, maybe I do..." bending into the formidable musician's personal space, she began to murmur while a hint of care flashed across her cheekbones,  "Um, I hate to pry, but are you aware that that violin is not only magical, but borderline sentient? That can be *really* dangerous..."

The one among them who appeared to know least what was going on was seized by the sudden urge to call Daigo Kazama right now. 

"Why.. yes, I am, thank you for your concern.  But you shouldn't be, " Yurika congenially whipped out her opalescent blue cellphone.  "If you'll excuse me, I'll just ring up my 
brother.  You must understand that I can't let this come out, and the easiest way to do that is to erase the fact from your mind.  Not that I don't trust one of Akira's friends - it really won't hurt a bit, it's psychomystic instead of chemical.  But I really would feel safer knowing no one could find it in your head."

Sakura radiated a new sort of anger for her.  Not that thoughtless righteous indignation -  this was just plain old hate.  Primed and focused like her own had been so long ago (was it so long?) when Hyo Imawano had played devil to her archangel. Many had mistaken it for justice, or determination, but the biker knew better.  Just like she knew better about the well-muscled girl infront of her.

Wrong, then.  It was settled. But that didn't necessarily mean anything bad. 

Hadn't Sakura used to be simple?  Yurika wasn't simple - and neither was Akira, but hadn't Sakura been somehow safer than that?  Purer or.. something stupid that Edge would take in some damn pervert way?  This situation was freefalling, as most did, entirely out of her control...

A glance grazed the room for skull and crossed bones. 
 

***

Sakura's eyes, which had gotten very very wide at the casual mention of wiping her memories, narrowed to slits as she dropped a hand - gently, for the moment - over Yurika's cellphone. "Don't. Just... don't," she said evenly, doing her level best to keep her *voice* from growling... unlike her 
thoughts.

{After everything I've seen involving mind control... Hyo, Raizo, Justice High, Ryu when Bison forced him to fight me in Thailand, and worst of all, Acchan, poor Akiko Tendo... how DARE she suggest doing that to ME!?}

Yurika blinked at her and raised an eyebrow as Sakura worked hard to remind herself that this girl had seen none of those things. "I assure you that I am not going to harm you..." she paused, bringing her hand up in a sharp motion that jerked Sakura's hand off the phone, "but nevertheless, for the 
safety of my family, security measures must be taken." She blinked again then, as if something had just occurred to her. "My brother has 300 years worth of artisanship behind his work - he'll not do the sort of unfortunate hack job Justice did.  You'll not even miss a thing," she said in what had probably been intended as a reassurance.

"Yurika...." Akira said quietly, but Sakura hardly even heard it and Yurika ignored her.

After a brief struiggle, Sakura felt in control of herself enough to speak normally. "I still think you shouldn't. I *Don't* like mind control. I've seen it at it's worst - and I'm sorry, Akira, but Justice wasn't it. Not even close. Not close at all," she finished with a shiver. "So please, don't call your brother. I'd hate to end up killing him," Sakura finished, addressing Yurika with a glare - which had just a hint of the Satsu no Hadou's gray fire in it.

Yurika simply gazed.  "Really, World Warrior.. I though it pains me to cast doubt on your skill, I am uncertain that you could.  And Akira would ensure we behave.. would you not?" she asked, looking away from Sakura for a moment to glance at the brunette.

Akira stepped back - and incidentally closer to her helmet.  "I really don't want to get into this...." she protested.

Sakura's scowl deepened as her temper began to get the better of her. "Kirishima-san," she began. "The *last* mind-controller who accosted me only lived because he can teleport long distances. Can your brother? For that matter, since you're the one insisting on this, can *You?*" she finished, 
her foot starting to slide forward into her fighting stance.

Sakura didn't notice that in her efforts to keep control, her hand had begun to crimp the solid steel mechanic's railing along the wall of the garage. Neither did Akira, who had turned away in the effort to reach her helmet before calamity set in. Yurika did notice, however, and in a change of approach, arched a speculative eyebrow at Sakura.

"I see.  Perhaps it might be advantageous to put yourself in a position where you can be paid for such services, then?  I myself prefer to have a more.. material reason to be an arbiter of fate than judgementalism."

It took a moment for Sakura to realize that she'd just had an offer tabled to be a contract killer. A loud and vitriolic retort began to emerge, but died stillborn in her throat as a third voice, now authoritative despite being muffled in a helmet, rang out over them.

"Look, I don't know what the hell you people are talking about, but nobody is going to kill anybody today, alright?  Yurika is not going to have her brother brainwash Sakura, Sakura is not going to pound Yurika to a pulp because she has healing powers , and we are all going to have a normal day.  Is that understood? " Akira roared.

Both of the girls currently in Seijun fukus whirled to face the voice in the age-old reaction to sudden danger, and then chorused meekly, "Yes ma'am!"

There was a brief silence, as Biker Akira stared at them through her visor... then raised the plastic and glanced away, satisfied that there would be no trouble.

Sakura, reminded *quite* vividly of the firebrand fighter who had stormed Justice High to rescue Daigo Kazama, suddenly realized that the girl beside her might not have had the benefit of past experience with this. Tilting her head toward Yurika, she murmured, "It's okay, I've seen her like that before. I hope it didn't freak you out too much..." A sigh and a pause, and Sakura went on in a normal voice. "And I apologize for overreacting. Like I said, bad experience..."

Yurika curtseyed briefly before replying aloud.  "That's alright.  It takes a very... rare person to detect the peculiarities of my ability, and I tend to find it rather suspect when one shows up out of the blue.  I am involved in a rather dangerous line of work, after all." A moment later, she too 
tilted her head and murmured back. "...indeed.  I'm just pleased she didn't start breaking things... that's always hideous to explain to the caretakers...."

Sakura giggled, then murmured back. "I know. After the event that let me sense magic, I was stronger and such, and it took me *forever* to get back enough control to keep from cracking my plates."

Akira, looking at them, crossed her arms. "Whispering is rude," she growled.

Had Sakura not been right beside Yurika, she would never have heard the stifled 'eep!' the elegant girl let out. "My apologies!" she exclaimed, wide-eyed.  "Perhaps we should retire to the cafeteria?  There's really nothing else here, and Miss Sakura seems to have somehow already acquired a 
uniform..."

Sakura blinked, remembering her altered outfit. "Oh, this? I kind of... modified my old fuku once I heard Akira was at Seijyun - I heard at Tamagawa Minami High how strict they can be about the uniform here. Oh, Akira, Daigo says hi, and sends his love... and he has some stuff he sent me to tell you about some problem person." Casting a significant look at both girls, Sakura went on, "Apparently it's private. Sorry, Yurika-san..." she apologized with 
a small bow.

Yurika nodded.  "Very well, I should be going in any case.  It was... interesting meeting you, Miss Yugure," she said in farewell.

Akira, almost at the same time, asked,  "Daigo?  Is he alright?  I TOLD him that I would take care of that girl...."

Sakura smiled at Akira as Yurika headed for the dormitories. "I first stopped by Gedo looking for you," she commented with a grin. "Your big brother's as tough as ever," she went on, working her shoulder around for emphasis. "As for this troublesome person... Your brother says he thinks you 
should, quote, 'break off all contact with the girl who's posing the problem,' endquote. I gather he's worried she might have backers or something, since he and I *both* know you can take care of yourself really well," Sakura finished with a smile that was almost shy.

Underneath it all, though, one notion had boiled up to the surface. {So this Yurika is... a contract killer? Maybe... maybe I can talk to *her* about... about what Akuma made me do in that training... It's not as if I can confess it to anyone... normal.}

With that in mind, Sakura wrapped up her conversation with Akira more quickly than she'd originally meant to, trading a few quick stories about the Justice High events before excusing herself... and then homed in on the odd aura she'd sensed from Yurika and her violin, and Ashura Warped.
 

***

There was a picture on the wall of waves crashing on a seashore.  She had always been fond of that print, and had made a point of removing it to her academic retreat during the winter months when her Uncle was off on rounds and her younger brother studying at goodness knows what.  Surely Grandfather was there, but he was kept medicated for very good reasons indeed.  And really, what family-member using the place as a waystation would miss it?  No.  The house was dead during the school year.  And the painting made her longing for it - despite the estate having very little to do with the lull and pull of the sea - somewhat less acute. 

"I have been trained to recognize apparation in my immediate area so that I am not caught off-guard," inclining her head towards the space that had formerly been an unnatural rip in spacetime, the killer steadfastly refused to make eye contact with the creator.  That really only encouraged people.  Eye contact, that is.  "If you are thinking of carrying out your previous threats, I would suggest otherwise."

An art historian might have recognized it as a genuine work of Hiroshige, and promptly valued it as both illegal and worth at least a few million dollars on the black market.  But that was alright.  It was well-preserved enough to pass as a cheap if unique student copy.  Not often that acquisitions of this sort were geniune accidental heirlooms instead of the more colorful acquisitions and debt repayments they'd had over the years.  Maybe that was why she liked it so much. 

... or maybe just because it was a very pretty blue. 

Ah.  Of course, the matter at hand.  Did she appear to be suiteably absorbed and off her guard yet?  The paino concerto she'd begun to play did wonders for the nerves unless as a proper student of classical music you were inured. 

From her left, beside the mirror on her dresser, a rustle of cloth could be heard. 

"I'm not, but that hasn't stopped me before. Actually, this is kind of.. well, an apology, sort of. I didn't mean to cause any friction between you and Akira... I just sensed, well, the power, and I blurted it out to you because I wasn't sure you knew. Now you *know* something about 
me, as much as I do about you, anyway," the girl bowed. "I apologize for getting off on 
the wrong foot. *Not* the way a baroness should behave, however whilom the post..."

She was muttering.  A new-money baroness, if that was what she was, then. 

The Hiroshige was offering nothing new today.  Art of a famous brood was supposed to provoke new thoughts, but she supposed that she had been stuck in something of a rut with the thing.  It had been in her room for both years of her secondary education.  And yet... a change was not quite in order, was it?  The Hiroshige was comforting in it's own way.  The constant, roiling motion of the depths never changed. It was not overcome with vulgarities of time or internant mood swings.  The strength of the inert, Yurika believed, was far too undervalued in this world. 

A glimmer of silver sparked at the corner of here eye.  She ignored it. 

A slight smile was allowed to crease Yurika's placid front, "Apology accepted.  And I understand you not wanting her to get hurt... one cannot be too careful, in my business.  Or in our position... the duties of nobility are harsh, are they not 'baronness'?"

Again, to the matter at hand.  The girl beside her had teleported into her room and proceeded to create something of an outburst.  Ergo, she was a threat.  There was something inexocrable to that conclusion as well. 

"Tell me about it. I get appointed to a position and two days after I find out about it I have to help out at the *weirdest* wedding you have *ever* had nightmares about, "this Sakura took to muttering again. " Pushy Oneesan!"

Not the eldest.  Did that explain alot, or nothing?  Neglect is not something that one can explain. It is a disruption no one has the right to make.   And the mock-tradiational paper walls seperating her beroom from her study filtered a pale light through to the wealthy student. 

It did not do to admit that they hit the hackles risen at the back of her neck. 

How dare this creature threaten her brother?  

"Ah.  You are not the sucessor, then?" she felt it prudent to voice her query aloud. "  I would imagine that makes for some more.. offbeat responsabilities.  My own chancellor is almost finished with his term, after which I shall be responsible for for most family operations. Errrrr... if you don't mind my saying so, however, you seem not to have been raised to position?  Although my younger brother surely was, and he is a fairly unique individual as well."

That was a polite way of putting it. The polite way that had been hammered into her head for so long that she had forgotten nearly any other mode of speech.  And that was good.  What it would be like to be so... malleable and variant as Akira, why, it did not bear thinking. 

This Sakura, she let out a huff.  There was obviously something on her mind.  Was she usually this careless?  Akira must have better taste in people to watch her back than that.  And this girl did not even seem to realize how threatening she actually was.  Teleporting in and out of people's rooms, knowing their secrets on first glance, evading security systems with little if any discernable effort... who did she think she was fooling?  Was she that blind?  And then bandying about death threats as if they were admonitions for...

How dare this creature threaten her brother? 

Uncle Koji had always told her: be wary of those who do not think about power, because they have no reason to think of yours. Wariness is not a crime.  Be wary that your eyes do not narrow, your voice does not betray.  Well, alright, that final statement had not been Uncle Koji.  But he had his own distinct administrative style and Yurika felt it important to diversify. 

"No, I was adopted into the family,' Akira's acquantance grumbled, sitting herself down on the other end of the bed. "Didn't know at the time titles were involved."  And then suddenly she cheered.  How odd.  "I shouldn't complain, should I? Oneesan says that being raised like that was like a prison. Do... do you feel that way? I mean, do you ever feel... trapped?"

Ah.  And she seemed haunted then, and smaller, and not the unknown quantity she already so obviously was.  Almost like she was younger, somehow.  But she really was younger, wasn't she, to not even be aware of the reality of her own strength?

The rage in the back of her head screamed threat.  Threats must be eliminated.  How dare this girl threaten... no!   This... this.... would-be aristocrat had no idea... 

Calm.  Careful.  Hiroshige.  Do not be afraid, play out your bluff.

"I.... maybe.. no.  My father thought of things that way.  And he, in the end," the Kirishima did not notice that she had flinched, "was weak - distracted."

But sometimes even the guilty cast stones.  And sometimes lakes meet tide. 

Oceanic eyes caught Sakura's own heated, insistently chaotic gaze, "If you shy away, if you think the pain is too great and pull away from them, then you are nothing but a burden. And I can only afford to be their strength.  My family will NOT fall again.  I will not allow them to."

And she looked past the threat at Hiroshige, and the childhood she had lost, and she knew like most prophets know that all is right with the world.  "And if I am in a prison.. then my 
prison is my home, and I shall defend it unto my death.  Do you understand?"

Sakura rose, and bowed, in that way that implied she was not enigmatic despite appearances. "Yes, I understand. I salute your devotion to *giri.* {{Duty.}}"  a hesitant pause. " ... Yurika-san? You mentioned you were trained to kill. Have you? Killed, I mean? I have... "

And there was silence then, because that was an irrelevant question. 

"Of course I have.  It's what I do."

"...I see..." Yugure continued quietly, sounding slightly distrubed.  "I guess you were prepared for it. I wasn't, not really... Tell me, Yurika-san, do the feelings about it ever go away? And for the non-assassins among us, is it good or bad if they do?"

Hiroshige.. but that flash of silver was back again, the one that held more questions than answers (or was that answers she'd lost a long time ago?).  To the picture on her nightstand she oft refused to look at, of a ten year-old girl and her younger brother on vacation, seeing all the wonders of Hong Kong with their smiling Uncle Koji whilst mother and father attended important society business. They had been to a wonderful dim sum.  Actually about to go off to see the new translated version of Beauty and the Beast, and Kurow was teasing her about her ... something she couldn't recall, and they were happy. 

Really actually happy. 

"I think..... I love my family.  And I think that my family is preferable to alot of the 'normal' families in this world that cause so much hurt to one another.  But.. we're not normal.  Not really.  Because we're raised that way," the girl in that picture, who did not wear her hair in twists but long and flowing, held in her hands a small-ish violin while her brother carelessly balanced a flute with a bag of potato chips. They'd been on their way to Family Reunion the week later, when they woudl actually get to see mother and father along with all of their relatives.  It was not Christmas of Haunnukah or what have you, but for a Kirishima child, that was most certainly the best time of the year. 

"Myself?  I know I'm supposed to feel upset about our work, " and father would rage, some nights that were not in the picture, about the injustice.  And Uncle Koji would tell them not to worry, that father was just a sensitive soul.  And they would nod, because sometime it seemed as if he knew everything.  "Having read the articles and the movies and the books that show you all the pain I know I should want escape. Like some French spy heroine. But...." and when she killed that boy, she did not think of father, but that picture, and it hurt because she knew that her father would have hated her. He had not thought like Family.  "I can't.  I just can't.  None of us who make it past the test can.   Have you ever been tested?  Tested yourself?"

He had fallen to the ground, bleating misunderstanding and innocence.  Fallen into dust just like he was, with mother by his side.  Father would have hated what she was.  And at the age of twelve she had realized...

The near-silence was broken by a cynical alto laugh, "More than I care to think about. And the last 'test' was the cause of all this. Yurika-san, all my life I'd been focused on protecting others. That's part of what drew me into martial arts in the first place. Like your devotion to your family. And then... all that gets taken and in one test, one horrible few minutes, you find you have to violate your principles in order to succeed in them at all. I guess the best analogy would be... how would you feel if you had to kill a member of your own family? Through no fault of their own? I guess that's how I feel..."

The picture came to focus, and she could not help but touch it.  Run her fingers along the ends of teh frame, and absorb the contents.  Had she known even then that her world would fall apart?  Did she ever really realize the frightening ability she had to not care about what her own father thought?

"My father died because his principles told him that killing, that wanting to kill, was more wrong than wanting to abandon his family.  I am not of that opinion, and I am alive, because I am not my father," Yurika Kirishima.  Traitor.  More reprehensible than this being could ever be.  Because her father had died, but none of her Family had, and if she thought about it she was sure one day the paradox would kill her. 

Why was she letting their distraught creature upset her? 

This girl knew nothing.  She had not had to kill her principles.  She didn't even know what they were. And the breath of feeling the musician had let creep into her voice disgusted her, "If your principles are more important than your actions, then you will repent and try to start anew or maybe even do penance for your mistakes. If the result is more important then your principles, then you were never who you really thought you were in the first place, were you?"

Did she expect Akira and herself to help her grow up?  Just like that? 

"I know who I am.  I am Yurika Kirishima - the Heir to the Kirishima Dynasty and morally reprehensible person.  But I don't think you know who you are, and.. I don't think coming here and asking Akira will tell you, will it?"

"You're right - I *don't* know who I am. Schoolgirl, Street Fighter, part-time Darkstalker, force of protection, power of destruction, peasant girl and Baroness, copy or individual?"  Yurika observed the girl impassively as she began to rant.  "That's a lot of hats for one head. Though I don't think you wear just the one hat either. You're an Heir - but from what I've seen, you're Akira-chan's friend too. I don't know why you became that to her, but it can't have been easy... and she really needs one. Thank you. Um... to finish my apology..." The brunette looked at her feet, "Acchan - a good friend - she was imprisoned in her own body. She had to murder her own family against her will. That's why I reacted so badly to the mind control. Again, I apologize."

Well.  Things like that happened. 

The killer gave a slight nod, "I can't say I understand your confusion - I have always been Yurika 
Kirishima.  I am 'friends' with Akira - yes, I suppose we are friends in our own way - and also a killer at the same time.  Akira is friends with a killer because she is friends with I.  It's strange ... she puts on that hat herself, and she seems to become something completely different.  But even Akira knows who she is somewhere, I think, because she knows that she can be strong if she has to be.  She'd like to think she's someone else, but she's not," an entirely different affliction from that of the Yugure being.   A more stable of illnesses by far. 

And this was enough. Yurika Kirishima did not lose control like this.  This thing had to leave. 

"You, as far as I can tell, are a creature named Sakura, who is stronger than she should be and, if I may be frank, somewhat disturbing to my equilibrium here.  What that means to you is up to you."

Honesty was the best policy in this case.  This threat could not be allowed to become... dependant. 

And then the anger blossomed, and Hiroshige showed it off quite nicely.

"Yeah, I'm disturbing to a lot of folks. Well, I won't disturb you any longer then, Kirishima-san," the being snubbed, apparently intentionally.  Good.  A clean break from unrealistic expectations.  What happened... she bore no ill will, but this was no concern of hers. "I hope your friendship with Akira never brings either of you pain. Abayo. (informal, somewhat disparaging 'goodbye')"

After which she was gone. 

"Teleporter," Kirishima placed the photo of her family back on the mantle. "I was right, then."
 
 

***
 

Far away, Sakura Yugure materialized on a familiar stretch of ground - the same slope on Mount Fuji she had occupied earlier in the day. Without a word, she sat down, and thought.

{Well, that was nearly a disaster,} she mused bitterly. {I just hope that Kirishima woman isn't going to be trouble for Akira.}

She paused, then went on. {But she did at least prove a point to me,} Sakura thought. {Wherever I'm going to find acceptance and happiness, it's not going to be anyplace connected with my old - *Kasugano's* - life. There's just too much baggage there, emotionally and otherwise. I'm going to have to move on.}

Sitting on the mountainside, she drew in a deep breath and let it out. {Heh. The first breath of my new life - *my* life, not anyone else's,} she reasoned. {Still, there *is* one more thing I have to do, if I'm going to really let go of who I was.}

She stood up. {I have to say goodbye.}

And with that, she Ashura Warped again, and was gone.
 

***

There was noise in the bacground - in everywhere, really, it being not quite that stage of fall where most find it more comfortable to retreat back inside and huddle in tastefully-wallpapered corners. 

But they coud hear each other, because they were under the tree they studued under, as opposed to the trees that everyone else studied under.  There was a natural order to these things.

"You drove her off?  I was surprised you told her about your job."

"She's a teleporter. It seemed prudent."

"I see."

Akira was pensive.  Not many of them seemed to be pensive.  Blue-blooded girls of independant means rarely are. 

".... what was it about her?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"You didn't like her.  Even I can tell that.  But even if she was an enigma, Sakura was never a bad person.  I remember that.  Both of us could be called far worse people than her.  I mean.. umm.. no offence about your job and... I'm really sorry but.."

"Would she be Chechnya, then?"

Did they seem offhand?  Did they seem the same as the rest of the pack?  Oh, surely.  Teenagers amoung others like to think that they are more special than they really are. 

"Chechnya.  Officially part of the remains of the Russian Empire, but in reality populated with people of a far different cultural outlook.  It could be said to be two things at once at least, if it has any identity at all.  That would seem to be an apt description, considering the confusion she felt the need to place before me - a complete stranger.  What could drive someone to that?  Confronting people she barely knows about such a personal issue?"

"... that's true."

"There is nothing more dangerous than a person with no clear loyalties."

And the babble kept on playing.

"I ... I don't mean to say that... but... total strangers?  I've only known you for a couple of weeks."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I read about the Justice incident while investigating my brother's current target. You risked everything for your brother.  I respect that.  And I can understand that.  I can even trust that, because I find that many people in this world have forgotten the meaning of Family," 

"... I.. do you think maybe that's a little harsh on her?"

"Powerful people should never be confused.  Powerful people should know better.  They have a responsability that is to be lived up to, wether they enjoy it or not, to be what they are supposed to be!  That is what I have always believed."

"She really got to you, didn't she?"

"What do you think, then?"

"... I think that Sakura is trying to do the right thing, but I also think that she doesn't really know what she wants.  I know I can't tell her.  I wish I could.  She always seemed so... young, back then.  I kind of envied her that.  I... I kind of disliked her too, in a way I knew that I shouldn't have.  I didn't like what she was, and that I couldn't be it.  Enough money to live, enough skill to pass judgement - how easy it must be to be her, never having to experience the depths of living she and that Hinata so despised.  Bad things just don't happen to girls like Sakura Yugure was - is, whatever.  Maybe she's had a shock to her system."

"Is that a good thing?"

"No.  Yes.  ...Maybe."

"I think that you believe it is a good thing.  I concur.  The innocent are ultimately a burden on those who must maintain their purity."

But maybe they were special, then. We are all special individual snowflakes.  The guidance councillors say that. 

"...sentient violin?"

"It's a long story."

"You'll have to tell me sometime.  It might as well be now."

Pity when the establishment is right, isn't it? 

"... I suppose you've never heard of "stands"?"