o n 2 0

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/ no 1 \

/¤ Episode ¥ 1: ¥ The Clubs Commence ¤/

Crecheb University: A standard academic environment for students, in
the heart of rural New England, boasting a diverse and open-minded
student population. An absolutely normal college.  Nothing odd about it
at all.  Really.

Shuji's eyes flashed as he lept forwards, energy gathering in his palms.
"This time is really the end, fool!" he snarled, thrusting forward as
his quarry began to move sideways.  "Chouhameouha!"  Energy crackled and
thrust forth, slamming hard into the lawn where freshman Edward
Delacroix had been standing mere moments before.  As Shuji landed, he
scanned the sky and found Delacroix, as he expected, in the air.
"Coward!  Come back and let me defeat you with the honor you do not
deserve!"

Delacroix didn't respond, just hovered for a moment.  It wasn't until
green force ensheathed him and he dove towards Shuji that the practicing
Shaolin warrior realized he had been thoroughly duped.  His dodge came
too late, and he was sent flying backwards as Edward gracefully lighted.
The young man looked up at Shuji, his blonde hair blowing lightly in the
breeze, his large green wings oddly matching his dark green shirt.
"Christ, Kuroki, I've been here two days! What did I do, rape and murder
your family without knowing it?"

"You are not worthy enough to speak my family's name, dog!" snarled
Shuji with a dashing punch.  Edward rolled sideways, then tried to
counter with a foot sweep, but Shuji saw it coming and blocked.  "The
mockery you made of me on your first day doomed us to be enemies!"  He
grabbed Edward and threw him skyward, then hit him hard in the gut with
an uppercut.  The freshman toppled to the ground, wings akimbo.

"Get a sense of humor, man," gasped Edward.  His next comment was cut
short as Shuji kicked him hard, and Edward rolled along the ground.
Springing up, he dodged another Chouhameouha from Shuji, then snarled as
Shuji charged again. "Look, I don't want to have to really beat you
senseless -"

"Not a risk," replied Shuji.  "Shochououken!"  The red energy laced
around his fist gave Shuji's uppercut even more force, drawing blood as
Edward fell back. "I am a master of Shaolin Kung Fu!  I have trained for
years in the ways of Bushido!  You cannot hope to best me!"  A spinning
kick and a shoulder throw left Edward looking half-dead, and Shuji moved
in to finish the job.  Before he could lay a hand on Edward, however, the
young man glided to one side with an uncanny grace, suddenly revitalized.

"Good shot, Kuroki," he snarled.  "My turn."  Spreading his wings, Edward
let green energy pool around him, pulling it into a focal point in his
hand.  He pointed his hand towards Shuji, and the maneuver became
instantly noticable to Shuji.  He was already too late to avoid it,
however.  Edward's energy reached a critical level as he screamed a ki-ai
borne of rage and power - "Force!  Judgement!  Cannon!"

Energy tore towards Shuji, and he was thrown away from his rival, consumed
by the crushing force of the vicious power.  Edward stood rigid as the
blast sent Shuji tumbling back, until finally the move came to an end and
Shuji stumbled to a halt.  He knew that he couldn't take Edward now - that
the stinking dog of a freshman had once again snatched his victory.  "I
give you this time, Delacroix.  But we will end this soon!"  With a
flourish, he sprang towards his dorm, trying his best not to show his
injuries.

For a moment longer, Edward stood.  Then he collapsed backwards,
breathing heavily.  "That sucked," he groaned.  "Kuroki's really
serious about taking me out of the picture for good..."  He lay for a
moment longer, sucking in air, then noticed an unusual sensation in his
left wing.  As swiftly as he could in a rather incoherent state, he
realized the sensation was pain, and the pain was because someone was
standing on his wing.  He groaned, turned his head, and looked up. 
"Chisato?  You're standing on my wing."

The young girl acquiesced, moving to help Edward stand, assistance the
young man accepted without protest.  Her black hair swayed in the breeze
in time with the lower half of her black t-shirt, draped over her blue
jeans.  "You know, Edward, Kuroki Shuji is kind of an important person on
campus.  I really don't think that a winged freshman is going to get very
far with him as an enemy."

Edward sighed, running his fingers through his hair in hopes of fixing it
at least slightly.  "You're not an expert on this campus.  Besides, you're
not in any position to be passing judgement, Antenna-Girl."

Chisato's eyes flashed.  It was true - the small, curling white bulbs of
flesh coming from the center of her forehead were antennae.  But she was
not one to admit it.  "Don't CALL me that!" she snapped.  "It's not my
fault!  They're a birthmark!"

"Hell of a birthmark," replied Edward.  He sighed and ran his hand through
his hair again.  "Any particular reason why you came after me, or did you
just see the fireworks between me and Kuroki again?"

"It really pisses him off when you call him Kuroki."

Edward nodded.  "I know."

Chisato stared at Edward for a moment, and he began to get the sensation
that he was supposed to be remembering something that he had absolutely
no clue about whatsoever.  She began to get angrier, and Edward tried to
feign a sheepish grin.  Finally, she slapped him across the face, at
which point hs was certain that his cover attempt had failed.  "The Club
Fair is today, Edward!  Have you already forgotten?  We agreed to go
together!"

"Right.  Clubs.  Ow."  He rubbed his cheek.  It wasn't that he didn't
like Chisato - he did.  She was a great friend, and he'd hate to lose
her. But... she didn't just want to be "friends", or so it seemed.  And
that was a problem.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of his head, he
shook his head to clear it and looked at Chisato.  "Well, all right -
now that every square inch of my body is in excrutiating pain, I guess
we can go to the Club Fair."

"You GUESS?  Edward, the Club Fair is, like, the absolute most important
get-together on campus.  You know how much power the Clubs have in the
university, right?"  Chisato was raising an eyebrow, and he could tell
she was reading his surface thoughts again.

"Um... must've missed that in the viewbook, Chisato."  He half expected
her to slap him once again.

Lucky for Edward, Chisato instead beamed widely and then snapped into
her professor pose, one hand on hip, the other gesturing wildly, her
back rigid and her eyes squinting in joy.  "The clubs are the main
social delineation of Crecheb University.  Each student is allowed
membership in one and only one club, and they then become a card-
carrying member of that club.  It is their task from that point forward
to defend the honor of their club's name and the wishes of their club,
through combat if necessary."  She looked at Edward.  "Kuroki is a
member of the Perfect Dojo, by the by, so you should rule that club out
right away.  They've been at the absolute head of the power structure
for years now."

Edward nodded.  "Somehow that fails to surprise me, Chisato.  Come on,
let's see if we can't catch on the coattails of some obscure club so I
don't have Kuroki trying to beat the living crap out of me for more than
one imagined reason at a time."

Chisato raised an eyebrow.  "Why do you hate fighting Kuroki so much,
Edward?  You win every single fight, after all."  She smiled again.
"And you look so good doing it, too.  I mean, you just SLAMMED that jerk
with that Force Judging Capon or whatever you call it..."

"Force Judgement Cannon," replied Edward.  "And it takes a fair bit out
of me to throw those out, anyways.  Just because I can fight and can
beat Kuroki doesn't mean I enjoy it - and it doesn't mean that I've won
so far out of much more than a healthy dose of luck combined with the
common sense not to stand in front of him when he starts trying to hit
me."  His wings twitched, and he glared at them.  "And the wings.  The
blasted wings help."

His next quip was cut short as Chisato uncerimoniously grabbed him by
the wrists and yanked him towards the Convention Center.  "Don't go
all World of Darkness on me, Delacroix.  It's time to get signed up for
a club!"  She ignored the indignant grunt he replied with, and kept
tugging him along behind.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

*Thud*.  It was loud enough for everyone to hear, as Kuroki Shuji, not
for the first time and not for the last, indoctrined another new member
into the Perfect Dojo by beating the living crud out of him.  Edward
watched with slight interest as the slim hispanic man beside Shuji
shoved a membership card in the pocket of the hapless fool, then waved
the other Perfect Dojo flunkies to bring him back to his dorm.  "Hmmph.
Wonder who he is."

"His name is Rodrigo Sanmartin," replied Chisato, still not looking up
from the Art Club's booth.  "He's Kuroki's best friend, and an expert
in Ninjitsu.  He's the second-best fighter in the school.  Think of him
as the second fiddle for the Evil Empire you have Kuroki leading inside
your mind."

Edward's head snapped around to glare at Chisato.  "Hey!  I do not have
Kuroki leading an evil empire inside my head!"  Chisato shrugged, still
not turning to face him, and Edward turned away as well.  "It's more
like an evil clique of incredibly stupid and self-righteous overblown
peacocks," he muttered mostly to himself.

Kuroki looked up from the mat where he had just finished his last
battle, still not having broken a sweat.  "Come on, now!" he cried to
the assembled petitioners for the Dojo.  "Can't you produce something a
little more worthy of my talent?"  There were a multitude of shouts
from the crowd, and then another competitor stepped forward into the
ring, no doubt to a thorough pounding.

Chisato leaned back from the Art Club.  "Nothing.  I can't find a
single club I want to sign up with."  She leaned back and looked at
Edward.  "You haven't either, and you kind of wish that I hadn't made
you come, because now you just have to watch Kuroki beat the living
crud out of another jerk who thinks they -"

"Chisato!"  Edward glared at her once again.  "You know how much I
hate it when you read my surface thoughts."  He sighed and twitched
his wings.  "Cripes, that's really annoying.  I mean, just because
you're a telepath doesn't mean you have a God-given imperative to
read other people's minds, Antenna-Girl."

That got her attention, as he knew it would.  She spun to face him,
eyes blazing with anger.  "DON'T CALL ME THAT!" she screamed, her
anger almost tangible.  "They are NOT antennae!"

"Do the two of you MIND?"

Neither Edward nor Chisato had been expecting that, and they both spun
in time to face the booth behind them.  A rather tired-looking young
man sat in the booth, with ruffled black hair, a white t-shirt, and
black jeans.  "I mean, it's bad enough that you two are standing in
front of our booth and keeping anyone from coming over - not that
anyone does - but now I have to listen to you two argue?  Please."

Edward raised an eyebrow.  "What club are you, anyways?  I read the
entire pamphlet - the Art Club was the last one on there.  We've hit
all the others on the list."

"Oh, yay.  We actually got cut from the list this year.  Probably by
Conrad, he's still holding a grudge with Rick."  The young man stood
and shook both Chisato and Edward's hand.  "Mark Tyrell, official and
card-carrying president of the chronic underdog, the Drama Club.  We
act, we sing, we debate, we write, and if we can get our acts together
sometimes we even run a few RPGs.  You can turn away in disgust now."

Chisato and Edward looked at each other for only a second, then they
both leaned towards Mark.  "We want in!" they exclaimed in perfect
unison.

Mark raised an eyebrow now.  He looked at Chisato, then at Edward.
Then he looked at Chisato's forehead, and at the wings sprouting out
of Edward's back.  "Um.  You sort of have wings."  He looked back at
Chisato.  "And you have... antenna."

"THEY'RE A BIRTHMARK!" screamed Chisato, forgetting for a split
second that she was supposed to be trying to get Mark to like the
idea of having her around.  Apparently, it didn't much bother Mark.
He shrugged and sat back down.

"I'll let you in, but first it's story time."  He sighed as the pair
gave him absolutely blank looks.  "Guys, I'm sorry, but normal
peole do not have wings, or antenn- I mean, birthmarks that look very
suspiciously like antennae.  So... what's the deal?"

Edward sighed.  "I don't know, really.  When I was twelve, I started to
get shooting pains in my back every so often, and these started to grow
until they were about this size.  I can fly, yes.  I spent most of my
high school career trying to deal with people asking me about why I had
wings sprouting out of my back.  I personally just try not to notice
them."

Chisato looked at Edward and Mark blankly.  "What?  I said they were a
birthmark.  Really.  I was born with these."  She fiddled with her
antennae for a second.  "I have no more idea why I have them than
Edward has an idea why he has wings.  We're just... y'know, oddities.
Really big oddities."

Mark looked at both of them.  "Those are piss-poor stories, guys."
Both Edward and Chisato started to protest, but Mark stopped them.  "I
never said that they had to be good stories, just that you had to
explain all that.  If I wanted to know the really in and out of it, I
would call in a favor with the Science Explorers."  He reached under
the table and pulled two cards out of a box, handing one to each of
the freshmen.  "Congratualations - the two of you are now proud new
members of the Drama Club.  May you enjoy getting spit on by every
other club."

The look on Chisato's face visibly darkened.  "What do you mean, spit on
by the other clubs?  I thought that being in a club meant being accepted
by the rest of the school!"

Mark chuckled.  "Chisato, EVERYONE is in a club!  All it means is that
you're not a complete persona non grata, and that you're involved in the
same old power politics that are so rampant in this school."  He patted
her on the shoulder as her face drooped, as if she were about to burst
into tears.  "Cheer up, Chisato.  I'm sure you'll get used to it.  It's
not all bad."

"Delacroix!"

"Crap," muttered Edward as he looked up to see Kuroki, flanked by
Rodrigo and another member of the Dojo who looked to be about seven
feet of pure muscle, approaching the stand.  He didn't want a fight,
but still the first thing that came out of his mouth wasn't very
conciliatory - as usual.  "What do you want, to revel in your glorious
scent of snot from defeated opponents and sweat that makes you smell
like a month-old open grave?"

Shuji's jaw dropped for a moment, but this time he regained his
composure immediately.  "I'll attribute your infantile remarks to awe
in the face of greatness this time, Delacroix.  I simply wish to find
if a mongrel such as yourself has found a club that will take you in?"

"You are big on dogs, aren't you, Kuroki?" replied Edward.  Now he just
felt like cutting loose.  Fighting be damned, he was sick of Kuroki
beyond all words.  "Is that what gets your family turned on?  Did your
dad have a big collection of /Lassie/ tapes he used to watch when he
thought your mother was asleep?  Or is it just a personal thing, and
you're not being a dick because you dislike me, just because there's a
rule against bringing dogs on campus so you can't see your girlfriend?
She's that nice little Labrador, right?  Do you have a picture in your
wallet, or just her tags?"

This time Shuji's jaw dropped and he did not regain his composure at
all.  Edward suddenly felt a little bad about cutting loose - he was
being pretty nasty.  Then again, so was Shuji, and he had never tried
to beat Kuroki to death.  Shuji's jaw was moving like a half-animated
puppet - one moment it would jerk open to say something, then snap shut
and seem to chew on words for a moment.  Finally, Rodrigo stepped
forward to cope for his rather incapacitated superior.

"What Kuroki was trying to say, Delacroix -" the young man pronounced
the name as if he were refering to something too horrible to speak in
public "- is that if you do not have a club, he has been impressed by
your fighting prowess, and would be willing to accept you into the Dojo
and help you to learn some respect."

Edward had a response ready, but Chisato beat him to it.  "Thanks, but
Edward and I have a club already.  We wouldn't want to change clubs at
this point, and besides, our club doesn't involve swaggering self-
righteous peacocks with some strange dog fetish."  She smiled brightly
as Rodrigo's face darkened.

"The Perfect Dojo does not take lightly to insults, woman!" snapped
Rodrigo, gesturing for Muscle-boy and Kuroki to start departing.
Kuroki was still in a state of near-catatonic shock, so Muscle-boy had
to pick him up and carry him back to the Perfect Dojo booth.  "We will
preserve the honor of this assembly and not fight you now - but rest
assured that your club has made a passionate enemy of us today!"

Chisato and Edward watched for a moment as Rodrigo walked away from
the booth.  Then they winced in near-unison as Mark smacked both of
them in the back of the head.  "Ow," grumbled Edward, turning to face
Mark.  "Was that entirely necessary?"

"Are the two of you incredibly dense, or has being freaks of nature
somehow warped your brains completely?" exclaimed Mark.  He was livid,
and neither Chisato nor Edward had the callousness required to whip
out a snappy retort at the moment.  "You just made us the enemy of
the Perfect Dojo!  Those guys are MACHINES!  There's no WAY we can
ever defeat them!  We're doomed, doomed, doomed..."

"Oh, shut up!" replied Chisato, now slapping Mark herself.  Edward
sighed and was resigned upon letting events take their usual course,
but then he heard what Chisato was explicating to Mark - loud enough
for everyone in the hall to hear her.  "Edward's fought Kuroki a bunch
of times, and he hasn't lost once!"  She continued, despite Edward's
wild gesticulations for her to stop.  "He mouthed off to the jerk when
we first arrived, so Kuroki tried to fight him THEN, and Edward did
this cool energy thing that I think came along with the wings and beat
him up, and ever since then Kuroki's been trying to - mmmph!"

Edward grinned broadly, hand clamped firmly over Chisato's mouth and
trying wildly to figure out a way to disperse the crowd that was
gathering.  "Um... boy, what an imagination Chisato has, huh, Mark?  I
mean, beating Kuroki Shuji, that's, like... ha... um... well, really
funny, right?"

Mark was also ignoring Edward, however.  At least, what he was saying.
"You've beaten Kuroki Shuji?  THE Kuroki Shuji?"  He was staring at
Edward slack-jawed, as if Edward was a baseball hero and Mark was a
snot-nosed four-year old.

"Um... well, yeah, I guess I did kind of beat him a few times, yeah,
but I really don't think -"

The reaction was instantaneous.  Mark was dancing like a man possesed,
nearly breaking the booth apart in his exuberance.  "HE CAN BEAT SHUJI!
THE DRAMA CLUB HAS A MEMBER WHO CAN BEAT KUROKI SHUJI!  God, this is
going to be great!  We can finally show up all the clubs that have been
kicking us when we were down all these years, and we'll have power and
prestige and maybe then girls will finally be flocking to date me -
well, maybe Edward too, but the wings will turn them off and I'm better
looking anyways -"

Shuji's voice could be heard clearly even if he had just talked in a
normal tone, since the Dojo booth was so close, but now that he'd
fully recovered from Edward's dog tirade he was far too incensed to
simply speak.  "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, YOU WORTHLESS AND HONORLESS
PIECE OF TRASH!" he bellowed, as if the voice of God himself.  "I WILL
DEFEAT YOU SOON, AND I PROMISE YOU THAT YOU WILL WISH YOU HAD NEVER
DISRESPECTED KUROKI SHUJI!"

Chisato squirmed and tried to bite Edward's hand.  Edward let her go,
then sighed and let his head sink into his hands as Mark danced and
Shuji bellowed.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

"All I'm saying," explicated Chisato, tossing another piece of chicken
her plate next to the mashed potatoes, "is that you didn't have to go
and nearly strangle me to get me to stop talking.  Heck, if you didn't
have such a problem with me reading your surface thoughts, it wouldn't
be a problem in the first place, because I would have read your unease
and I would have -"

"How am I becoming the bad guy here?" moaned Edward, who was no longer
paying attention to what he was doing and had begun to form a pile of
mashed potatoes on his plate tall enough for sculpting purposes.  "Come
on, Chisato, I really don't want to talk about how my life is now going
to become one long duel with Kuroki from this point on."  He looked at
the pile of potatoes, then sighed and shoved some of them back.  "Can
we please talk about something else?"

Chisato shrugged in acquiesence and began moving towards the drinks.
They didn't have to eat at the dining hall just yet - it was still a
couple weeks before classes started up - but they had gotten accustomed
to the faux wood and linoleum atmosphere of the place.  Edward had once
briefly admired the archtecture, but that was about all that could be
said for the squat brick building.  "Okay," she replied.  "What do you
want to talk about?"

Edward sighed as he grabbed a diet soda.  "Anything that does not
involve the name 'Kuroki Shuji' would make me happy beyond words right
now, to be honest."  He started heading towards the closest available
booth, Chisato close behind.  "Pick something, anything."

Before Chisato could even make a noise, she was cut short by Mark.
"There he is, the man that can beat Shuji!" he cried loudly, rushing up
to both Chisato and Edward, who seemed to have become his new favorite
people since had found out about Edward.  "So, how you guys doing?  Can
you wait until the first meeting?"

"Eternally," replied Edward.  "Mark, really, I wouldn't bet everything
on me being able to beat Kuroki.  I've beaten him in the past, but I
could run out of luck in that department at any time.  Heck, I'm not
that confident that -"

"I think you'll be our official warrior, Edward.  Now that we know that
there's a member of the Drama Club that can beat Shuji, we could use an
official warrior.  How does that sound?"

Edward raised an eyebrow at Mark.  "Mark?  Are you even listening to me
any more?  Hello?"  The Drama Club president didn't even notice, simply
kept ranting about the glories of beating Kuroki Shuji fair and square.
Edward sighed and looked forlornly at Chisato.  "Help."

"Look, there he is!"

There was the noise of twenty chairs being pushed back in perfect
unison, and Edward glanced over to see twenty students, all of them
looking to be variously between angry and enraged, approaching himself,
Chisato, and the still-ranting Mark.  Edward didn't recognize most of
the students, but he did recognize Rodrigo leading the group.  "Bloody
hell," he muttered.  "Just what I need."

"Edward Delacroix!" shouted Rodrigo, standing atop a table and having
his flunkies group around him.  "You have made an enemy of the Perfect
Dojo and our leader, the honorable Kuroki Shuji!  The only answer for
this is in combat!  Come, and we will make your defeat painful but
mercifully quick!"

Mark shoved Edward in the back.  "Come on!  You can take them!  I'll
be over getting lunch until then!"  Edward glanced back, and saw that
Mark was already making a beeline for the relative safety of the salad
bar.  Rodrigo had jumped down from the table, and the group was
marching towards Edward and Chisato.

Edward looked at Chisato.  "Please tell me you aren't running for the
salad bar too?"

Chisato shook her head.  "I'm with you to the bitter end, Edward.  And
besides, you've beaten Shuji!  Rodrigo can't be anything compared to
him!"  She glanced back at the rapidly advancing horde.  "Of course,
there was only ONE of Shuji..."

A blast of energy from one of Rodrigo's flunkies smashed into the
ground near Edwards feet, and he flapped his wings lightly, sending him
skidding back from the horde.  He looked to Chisato, who was
backstepping as fast as her legs would carry her.  "Chisato!" he
shouted, grabbing her attention.  "You're a telepath!  Can't you do
something to these guys like that?  Maybe even the odds a little?"

"Oh.  Right.  Good idea."  Chisato stood perfectly still for a moment,
and violet energy lightly wisped around her body.  Then, in an instant,
it began pooling into her antennae, flashing brighter as wisp after
wisp traced around her and into the growing globe of psionic power.
She opened her eyes, letting them crackle with the selfsame power, and
stared dead at the group.  One last wisp traced into the center, then
the collection poured outwards and into the foreheads of half the thugs.
Purples wisps surrounded them for a split second, and they fell forward,
eyes open in shock.  Chisato stood a moment longer, then swayed and fell
backwards into Edward's arms.  "That's... kind of... draining..."

"Not fair!" cried Rodrigo, bounding towards Edward with his remaining
helpers.  "This is supposed to be between us and you, not the girl with
the antennae!"  As they closed on his position, Edward crouched and sent
both himself and Chisato skyward, flapping his wings to bring them over
the crowd in a sudden rush of movement.  Balancing Chisato in one arm,
he lashed out with an energy bolt from his other hand, smacking one of
the warriors dead in the back.  The others turned and started back
towards the now-airborne Delacroix as Chisato began to stir once again,
those who were able hurling their own energy blasts at Edward.  "I don't
know how you can use a ki blast without any training in the martial arts
or magic, Delacroix, but I do know that I will not allow you to escape!"

"It isn't a ki whatever!" replied Edward, fairly certain that it wasn't
whatever Rodrigo was rambling about.  This... energy had been in him
ever since his wings had finished growing, he knew that.  It had nothing
to do with the martial arts or any such thing.  He wasn't even really
clear on how he used it.  He just did.  But another pair of blasts from
his pursuers snapped Edward back to the present, and he dove out of the
way, dropping Chisato in a chair in the process.

Two more warriors fell as Chisato stood up and lanced out with more of
her trademark energy, leaving Rodrigo and his consistently diminishing
group to split their attention.  "Take the girl!" he shouted to the
five still-standing Dojoists.  "I will take Delacroix out myself!"  He
rushed towards Edward, still on the ground, and Edward paused to figure
out a strategy before Rodrigo simply vanished.

"Where did he - ugh!"  Edward felt a kick strike him hard in the back
between his wings, and he lurched forward.  Spinning around, he saw
Rodrigo falling back to the floor and fading out of visibility again.
Diving towards Rodrigo's position, Edward slammed hard into the ninja
even as he cursed himself for not remembering all the stories about the
"Art of Invisibility" that ninjas were reputed to have.  Rodrigo took
advantage of Edward's distraction and kneed him in the gut, sending him
tumbling to the ground as Rodrigo landed on his feet.  He stood still
for but a second, then drew a small knife and dashed towards his foe.

"Weapons?  I thought those were off-limits," Edward spat out, beating
hard with his wings to send him skidding to one side.  "Perfect Dojo is
dramatically failing to impress me lately."  He drifted sideways
slightly as he rose upwards, bringing himself to a standing position.

Rodrigo said nothing, merely flipped the dagger around so that the blade
pointed to the ground.  "Under normal circumstances, dog, we do not
permit any weaponry.  But to take you out, unusual measures have been
allowed."  He smirked and slashed backwards through the air with the
dagger, letting a thin trail of hard white energy behind its tip.  "Now,
Delacroix... allow me to show you the true power of the Dojo!"

"You have absolutely no idea how cliché that sounds, do you?" asked
Edward, sounding as sarcastic as usual but steeling himself to move like
lightning.  He knew that Rodrigo was going to throw something big his
way now... all he could do was hope that he could move fast enough to
avoid getting skewered...

"Prepare yourself!  Deadly Art, Senjinzan!"  Fast enough to blur his
outline, Rodrigo rushed forward, dagger trailing the same line of energy
as before.  He slashed upwards, and Edward jerked himself backwards,
then instantly sideways as a lunging downwards slash came towards him.
Flipping sideways as Rodrigo circled the dagger around and slashed
horizontally, he noticed almost too late that the blade was streaking
directly for his heart.  Lurching backwards put him out of position to
avoid another stab at his heart, and he merely slid sideways, where
Rodrigo slashed towards almost instantly.  The speed was beginning to
wear Edward down, but he tucked into a ball and let the dagger whistle
harmlessly below him, then rolled aside and untucked as a trio of even
faster stabs hit his former position.  The trail of energy was unbroken
by Rodrigo's movements, and he slashed sideways towards Edward once
again, leaving Edward to lurch backwards once again.  Another three
sideways slashes drove Edward back, but he was badly off-balance and
saw another attack coming.  Rodrigo lingered for only a second before
stabbing forward, and all the energy trails converged at the point of
his stab.  Edward span as hard as he could, but still felt the attack
slice into his side and part of his right wing.  He sighed and fell to
the ground, panting.

Rodrigo looked at him, somewhere between awe and anger.  "You managed
to avoid Senjinzan; that's never been done," he snarled.  The dagger
dropped from his hand, anger visible in his eyes.  "That's all you do,
though - dodge and shoot energy blasts, with the occasional winged
tackle.  Am I right?"

Edward smirked.  He knew Rodrigo hadn't seen the energy building in
his palms, and he knew that Chisato had cleared him a clean shot out
the dining hall window.  "Pretty much.  But whatever works."  He
whipped around, and Rodrigo's eyes visibly widened as he saw the
attack powering up.  "Force Judgement Cannon!"  The blast slammed
into Rodrigo dead-center, lifting the lightly-built ninja off the
ground and sending him flying backwards, straight through the large
bay window on the other end of the dining hall.  The cannon followed
him through the window, and it wasn't until Edward let the attack
die out that Rodrigo fell from the beam of force and began to roll
down the hill on that side of the dining hall towards the stream at
the bottom.

Mark peeked out from behind the salad bar, and saw exactly what he
wanted to.  "You DID it, Edward!  You beat Rodrigo Sanmartin! Wait
until everyone hears about this!  There will be talk like you would
not believe, Edward, this is the biggest thing to happen since...
well, since Rodrigo himself!  The Drama Club is going to rise so
fast it will make the head of every single other club president
spin in amazement -"

Chisato put a hand on Edward's shoulder as Mark continued to rant
without any sign of cessation.  "Edward?  Are you okay?"

Edward looked at Mark, who was now drawing up plans for the Drama
Club running the school.  He looked down at the nineteen or so now-
dishonored members of the Perfect Dojo only now beginning to regain
conciousness.  He looked out the smashed window that he had sent
Rodrigo flying out of.

"I think I'm going to stop doing anything until the next millenium,"
Edward sighed, collapsing to the floor as Mark orated.  It wasn't
until Chisato knelt by his side that Mark noticed.  Edward honestly
didn't notice or care, because he had happily entered a dream world
where Kuroki Shuji had never existed and he had never sprouted wings.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

/¤ Episode ¥ 2: ¥ New Girl on Campus ¤/

Mark was in his element as he leaned back in his chair, sipping his cup
of coffee and rearranging papers with blinding speed.  His apartment
might be assessed as a pigsty by the untrained eye, but as Edward and
Chisato had seen, it was an organized mess that he was quite pleased
with.  "It's great to be a junior," he had explicated when they had
first entered his apartment, and it was a fact that was not lost upon
either freshman.

Chisato leaned back from the stove, which she had happily rushed to in
order to try out her cooking skills once again.  Never mind her repeated
failures to produce an edible dish - she was certain that eventually, it
would be her turn to create the incredibly tasty meals that everyone
would flock to.  Edward, on the other hand, was certain that grabbing an
apple before they had come over was a good idea.  "Lunch'll be ready in
just a few minutes, guys!"

"Be still, my beating heart," muttered Edward, leaning over the table.
He looked up at Mark, who had taken a break from the incomprehensible
paper-shuffling to finish off his coffee.  "Hey, Mark.  Other than the
three of us, who is in the Drama Club, anyways?"

For a moment, Mark simply stared at Edward, as if he were previously
unaware of Edward's existence.  Then he snapped back to conciousness.
"Oh.  Sorry.  I was just wondering exactly how I was going to announce
to everyone that we have the man who can beat -"

Edward's eyes flashed.  "DON'T say that name!"

"Right.  Sorry."  He smirked and shrugged, neither of which lessened the
glare aimed at him.  Edward was surprised that Mark still hadn't picked
up on the fact that he wasn't exactly gung-ho about beating up Kuroki
Shuji.  How dense could he be?  "Well, let's see... there's Sandra, the
only other freshman who signed up... don't really know her... then, we
have Rick, Sally, Jim, Chris, me... and you two."  He thought for a
moment.  "Yep.  That's it."

"You have eight members?  Only eight members in the club, and you wonder
why you aren't more powerful?"  Edward sunk his head into his hands.
Now he could see why Mark was so ecstatic that they had a member capable
of beating Shuji - it wasn't as if there was any other hope of the group
gaining anything but dust.

"Hey!"  Mark seemed offended.  "I have never once said I wondered why
we weren't more powerful!  I know full well!"  He sighed and leaned
back further in his chair.  "Once, the Drama Club was the most
powerful club on the campus, evenly matched with the Perfect Dojo in
every meaningful term.  It was a time of great prosperity, where both
intellectuals and athletes strove side by side in a harmonious dance.
But then, the -"

Edward sighed again.  "Let me guess - the Negaverse invaded the Drama
Club's moon kingdom, and we all got sent a thousand years into the
future?"  Mark blinked, obviously missing the reference completely.
"Forget it.  I don't CARE why, Mark.  With only eight members, I don't
think being able to beat an egotistical peacock of a martial artist
will be enough to make a difference."

He pushed his chair back, ready to walk into the kitchen for a drink.
Before he could leave, however, Mark grabbed his wrist and yanked him
over.  "You can, Edward.  The fact that you're a winged freshman doesn't
preclude the possibility of you being anything else.  If you want to be,
you can still be a lot of things - maybe even more than you know."

Edward stared down at Mark and rather unceremoniously broke his grip.
"When did you become so prophetic, anyways?" he muttered, stalking into
the kitchen.  The last thing he had wanted was the weight of savior-hood
thrust on his shoulders, but it looked like it was being placed there
anyways.  He sighed again and moved around Chisato, fished out a Diet
Coke can, took a sip, then headed back for the table.  He stopped for a
second to glance at Chisato's cooking, then decided to inspect a little
more closely.  "Chisato?  Is the food supposed to be smoking like that?"

"Yes, of course!" replied Chisato, trying to appear chipper but
faltering slightly.  "The smoke means that it's... um... flavoring
correctly!  Any good cook knows that!"

"Aha."  Edward leaned over the pot and looked in.  What may have at one
point been chicken was now covered in little flames licking its edges.
"And the flames?"

"YES!" replied Chisato, completely dropping the facade of the happy chef
as she dashed over to deal with the wreckage of the meal.  Edward rolled
his eyes and walked out to the table, vaguely aware of her sticking a
wooden spoon in the pot and then jerking it out as it caught on fire.
He looked at Mark, shook his head, and tossed him the keys to his car.
It was time for another dining hall meal.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

The morons around her were staring.  She knew that, even though she
didn't look up to confirm that fact.  It wasn't worth the effort to look
at them, much less bother trying to change their opinions.  It had all
been explained to her at great lengths, at the same time that she had
been given her mission.  But that didn't mean that it was any more
enjoyable.  Trying to push it out of her mind, she leaned over and got
ready to start eating her meal.

"Mind if we sit here?"

She looked up at that.  There were three people before her, each with
their own lunch tray, two men and a woman.  The first man was fairly
normal, if a little on the painfully thin side.  The second man, on
the other hand... had wings.  Large wings, not scaly or feathered, but
a dark green sort of bat-like wings, except they lacked the usual
extended fingerbones.  And the woman... had antennae.  Two small, white
antennae extending from her forehead.  "Um... I don't suppose I can
stop you, so you may."

The first man didn't miss a beat - he sat right down.  The other two
remained standing.  "What's the matter?  Did we bother you?"  The
woman seemed genuinely concerned.

"Well..."  She looked at the woman.  "You sort of have a pair of
antennae sticking out of your forehead."  She looked at the man,
ignoring the woman's protests that sounded like something about a
birthmark.  "And you sort of have a pair of wings sticking out of your
back."

The man raised an eyebrow.  "You're not in much of a position to throw
stones."  He looked her over for a moment.  "For starters, you have
fur."  She shrugged.  "And you have a tail."

She scowled at that remark.  "Well, so does your girlfriend there, but
you don't see me staring at her rear -"

"No, I mean a real tail.  I mean a long string of bones attached to
your butt that waves back and forth like a cat's tail and is covered in
cat fur, as, apparently, is your entire body.  I have wings, she has
antennae, you're a cat woman, Mark here has a serious problem with
paying attention to the world around him.  Why pick nits?"

The girl smiled, and Edward and Chisato sat down.  "That was kind of
funny," she said, looking at all three of them again in turn.  "I'm
Nina Bartman.  The thin guy is Mark - I picked that up.  The two of you
would be...?"

"Chisato Smith," replied Chisato, nodding and smiling at Nina.  Her
expression suddenly darkened.  "And they're not antennae.  They're just
a really weird birthmark."

Edward sighed.  "Edward Delacroix.  Although according to Mark, my name
is just 'That Guy Who Can Beat Kuroki Shuji'."  He glanced over at Mark
as if expecting a response, but Mark simply shrugged, and Edward turned
back to Nina.  "Surprised we haven't seen you on campus before now."

"I haven't been on campus before now," she replied very matter-of-fact.
"I just got here yesterday."  She lapped up a little milk from the bowl
on her tray, then wiped her mouth on the back of her arm.  "In all
honesty, I don't really want to be at Crecheb to begin with, but I have
to be.  It's my mission."

Mark leaned forward, an expression on his face that seemed to say that
he now thought Nina was the most incredible thing in the universe - a
fact Edward hoped was true, as it would mean he wouldn't have to hear
about Shuji any more.  "Mission?" asked Mark.  "What sort of mission?
Or is it something for the government that you can't tell us without
having to kill us."

Nina shook her head.  "Nothing so interesting.  Just the whole destiny-
quest of the Bartman tribe and everything."  She popped a piece of meat
in her mouth, oblivious to the fact that her fellows at the table were
visibly dumfounded.  "Let's see... what were the exact words?  It was
something along the lines of 'when the stars are right, the youngest
Bartman shall journey forth and fight evil and crap like that'.  It's a
racial legend or something."  She shook her head and ate another piece
of meat.  "To be honest, I wasn't paying a whole lot of attention at
the time."

"Racial legend?"  Edward was confused.  His life hadn't exactly been
normal since he sprouted wings at age twelve, but this was sort of on
the lunatic fringe even for him.  It was as if he had suddenly become
the nexus for all things strange and bizarre.  "Do you mean that you're
not human?"

"Of course I'm not bloody human," replied Nina, as if it were as obvious
as the still-unrepaired glass window on the far side of the dining hall.
"I'm a fleman.  What tipped you off, the fur?  Besides, I might not be
majoring in biology, but I don't know of any humans with wings and
antennae."

Chisato's face metamorphosed from an expression of interest to one of
irrational rage.  She lunged across the table, grabbing Nina by the
collar of her shirt in anger.  "They're NOT ANTENNAE!  They're a
BIRTHMARK!"

"They're antennae, Chisato.  You know they're antennae, I know they're
antennae, and everyone else sitting here knows they're antennae."  Nina
gestured around the table, and Chisato followed her hand movement with
her gaze as both Mark and Edward reluctantly nodded in agreement.  "It's
okay to have antennae.  Really."

Chisato muttered something that nobody at the table could hear, then let
go of Nina's shirt and slumped back into her seat.  She looked visibly
deflated.  "All right, all right, I admit it, they're antennae," she
sighed, as if somebody had just kicked her puppy.  Nina raised her hands
in triumph, then leaned over and continued to lap up her milk.

Edward inspected Nina for a moment.  "You're awfully blunt," he said at
length, as she finished her milk and popped another small bit of meat
into her mouth.

Nina nodded, wiping her mouth with her napkin and licking her fingers.
"I know.  It's a bit of a problem."  She stretched backwards, seeming to
dislocate her spine in typical cat-like manner.  Her tail twitching from
what Edward presumed to be happiness, she stood, shook her head and made
a noise that sounded vaguely like a "meow", then blinked and picked up
her tray.  "Been nice meeting you all, I suppose..."

"Wait!"  Mark sat up like a shot, as if God himself had delivered a
message direct to his mind.  "You haven't signed up with a club yet, so
you could really be in trouble around here.  Like, socially, I mean.
So if you would like to hook up with the Drama Club..."

If Nina actually had any emotion on the subject whatsoever, she
certainly didn't show it.  "Sure, fine, whatever," she muttered, sitting
back down with a sigh.  Mark's face drooped visibly, but Nina seemed
thoroughly unconcerned.  "So what do I have to do?  Jump hoops, do a
dance show, what?"

"Um, just take a card -" Mark fished around in his pocket for a moment,
then produced another copy of the cards he had given both Chisato and
Edward the day before "- and be at the meeting tonight.  My apartment.
It's right there on the card."  He folded his hands in front of him,
then looked smugly at Edward.  "Ha!  Nine members, now."

Edward sighed and took a bite of pizza, then regretted it instantly.  He
should have learned by this point that the dining hall only produced
things that looked like pizza but tasted more like an unholy union of
yogurt and tomatoes.  "Y'know, Mark, sometimes it's amazing the extent
to which you can miss the point."  He dropped the pizza and decided to
toss it in the trash at the next reasonable opportunity.

Mark blinked.  "What?  I don't get it."  Edward did not respond, merely
took another swig of soda and tried to wash the taste of the pizza out
of his mouth.  Shrugging, Mark returned to furiously scribbling in his
notebook as Nina inspected the card he had handed her.  "Okay, so how
about we open with some video footage of you beating up Rodrigo when he
just attacked you out of nowhere and -"

"Hey, Nina, can I join you?" asked Edward, suddenly standing and trying
to catch up to the cat woman, happily disposing of the remainder of his
meal.  Chisato listened to Mark for a moment longer, then shrugged,
left her tray on the table, and walked after Edward and Nina.  Mark
continued to both write and talk for another few minutes, then realized
that the others had left, shrugged, and continued writing.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

The first warning to Edward that the night was not going to go well was
the banner, stretched wide over Mark's door, that proudly proclaimed,
"THE CLUB WITH KUROKI SHUJI'S NEMESIS".  He stared at it for a moment,
then tore it down, crumpled it into a ball as best he could, and hurled
it down the stairs.  He turned to look at Chisato, who was obviously
trying rather hard not to laugh out loud.  "You knew about this, didn't
you?" asked Edward, to which Chisato nodded.  Sighing, he opened the
door and went in.

Warning number two was the man smashing a chair against the wall the
moment Edward walked in the door.  Edward surpressed the gut reaction
to run away as fast as humanly possible, and looked at the smasher.  He
was a lightly-built young man, about as tall as Edward, with brown hair
streaked black and thin-rimmed black glasses.  "Oh.  Hi.  Sorry, that
probably scared the crap out of you."  He extended his hand.  "I'm
Chris.  I can tell by the wings you're Edward."

"Observant little boy, isn't he?" muttered Chisato, forced to squeeze
past both Edward and Chris to get into the apartment.  She looked at
the now-demolished chair.  "Um... I don't mean to sound rude, but don't
you think Mark's going to notice that?"  She leaned over to inspect
closer.  "For that matter, why, exactly, were you destroying a chair?"

"It's art!" replied Chris with surprising vehemence.  "Everyone has
their own style of artwork, you know.  Dali painted surreal landscapes,
Monet used vibrant colors, Michaelangelo sculpted, Mozart wrote some of
the greates music known to man."  Chris put his hands on his hips and
examined the wreckage of the chair.  "Me?  I break things.  Would you
like to see my 'Chris, I'm Leaving You For Sam' collection?"

Edward blinked.  "Um.  Not right now, but near future.  Really."  He
looked at Chris, hoping to gauge whether or not he bought the response,
but Chris was still admiring the kindling formerly known as a chair.
He had a flash of revelation of exactly how similar Mark was to the
rest of the Drama Club, and stepped lightly around Chris, who had now
picked up one of the bigger pieces of the chair wreck and was preparing
to smash it again, and found Mark pouring a bag of Cheetoes into a
large bowl.  "Mark?  Mark?  Hello?"

Mark looked up.  "Oh!  Edward!  Glad to see you made it!  Since I have
yet to see you without Chisato close behind -" Chisato blushed "- I'll
assume that now we're just waiting on Sandra and Nina.  Come on, I'll
introduce you to everyone."  He scooped up the bowl of Cheetoes, then
headed towards Chris, who was trying to splinter one of the chair legs
now.  "First off, this is -"

"Chris.  We met him."  Chisato nodded as sardonically as possible.  "He
likes to break things."

"Right."  Mark moved into the living room, or what passed for a living
room in a relatively small apartment.  Three other people were sitting
around the coffee table, two men and a woman.  The woman had long hair,
obviously dyed black but too well to determine the original color, and
brown eyes.  One of the men also had long-ish hair brown hair in a
ponytail, along with a pair of sunglasses that made him look completely
out of place.  The other had neatly cut black hair and bluish-brown
eyes.  "Guys, meet the rest of the Drama Club.  There's Jim -"

The man with long hair stood up and shook first Edward's hand, then
Chisato's.  "You meet to pleased am I," he said, smiling.  Both gave
him a blank stare.  "Backwards talking with experimenting am I.  Fun is
it."

Edward muttered something that Mark chose to pointedly ignore.  "Jim
likes to preserve individuality of speech patterns, so he experiments
with different onces every so often.  Then, this is Rick."

The other man nodded, stood, bowed, then knelt and kissed Chistao's
hand.  "It is a pleasure to meet someone so beautiful as you," he
intoned deeply, obviously trying to make himself sound more prophetic.
"I could not ask for a greater vision of loveliness before me, and I am
so totally consumed by your womanly charms that I could not hope to
oppose anything you wish to do to me.  I relinquish my life unto you,
o walking Aphrodite."

Chisato and Edward both looked at Mark.  "He's a theatre major, isn't
he?" they asked in perfect unison.

Mark nodded as Chisato wrestled her hand out of Rick's.  "Rick's a fine
guy, he just overdramatizes everything around him."  Chisato managed to
get her hand free, and accidentally pushed Rick back in the process.
Rick immediately began spasming on the floor and humming Taps between
hacking fits.  "And this is Sally."

Sally did not stand, offer her hand, or anything else.  She looked up
at Chisato and Edward, then shrugged.  "Whatever."  Edward bent over to
offer her his hand, and she pointedly ignored his offer.

"Um... this is Sally's apathetic period.  She's determined to go
through several emotional phases, just like artists go through style
phases."  Mark shrugged.  "It's okay.  She'll warm up to you eventually
if you hang around long enough.  Right, Sally?"

"WHATever," muttered Sally, placing plenty of emphasis on the first
word.

"Charming little club, Mark.  Can't see why it isn't at the top of the
list for popularity."  Edward smirked as Mark's face took on a look of
confusion.  It was cruel to do things like that to people, he knew, but
at times he simply couldn't resist.  "Sorry.  Gut reaction.  You have
any idea when Sandra's going to be here."

Mark shrugged as the sound of breaking glass came from the kitchen.
"Great, Chris has gotten into the cupboards again.  His art carries a
lot of overhead, but it certainly expresses rage well."  He stood and
headed for the kitchen.  "Chisato, Edward, make yourselves at home.  I
know you'll have no problems!"

Chisato and Edward looked at one another, then shrugged and sat down.
Sally did not look at them directly, although she seemed to be catching
them on her peripheral vision, and Rick was continuing his death scene
with more hacking and violent twitching.  Jim leaned forward, letting
the sunglasses drop to reveal light grey eyes.  "Right, Shuji Kuroki
beat can that guy that you're, so?" he asked.

It took Edward a minute, but he figured out exactly what Jim was asking
him.  "Mark's already told you?" he sighed.  "Yes, I've been lucky in a
couple of fights with him, but I wouldn't go to the lengths that -"

"Shuji Kuroki beat DID really you!" he exclaimed, leaning over and
shaking the now-moaning Rick.  "Rick, out it cut!  Truth the us telling
was Mark!"  Rick sat up, and Jim gestured at Edward.  "Here came Shuji
Kuroki since guy first the, Shuji Kuroki beat to managed he's!  Deserve
we respect the get to going finally are Club Drama the of members the
of all!"

Rick blinked for a minute as he tried to decipher exactly what Jim had
just said, then his eyes flashed and he jumped to his feet with ecstacy
and showiness.  "The stars of fortune have shined upon us once again!
Our noble leader spoke the truth when he said that he had found a most
worthy soul to enter the group that is the Drama Club!  Now, with the
assistance of the worthy and noble warrior Edward, we will once again
ascend to the heights of power where those such as ourselves were born
to roam!"

"Rick, Fantasy Final isn't this," sighed Jim, but he was still ecstatic
as he beamed at Edward.  Rick was now dancing around the room with a
series of gliding pirouettes, while Jim was continuing to barrage
Edward with questions that were completely incomprehensible due to the
speed at which he spat them out.  Edward sighed again, and glanced
towards the clock, hoping that the meeting was nearly over and that
Chris hadn't broken the clock yet.

What he saw floored him.  Chris, Mark, and Nina, were all walking in,
along with a girl that Edward hadn't met before now.  She was slightly
shorter than Edward - from what he could tell - but was slender and
beautiful, with wavy, shoulder-length brown-red hair and blue-brown
eyes that seemed to radiate light.  She smiled, and Edward felt himself
melt inside.  "Hi.  I'm Sandra.  You must be Edward."

"I must be," he said half-conciously, still completely focused on her.
He felt a sharp pain in his wing, but ignored it as he watched her sit
down.  It wasn't until the pain intensified that he spun and glared at
Chisato.  "Hey!  What was that about, Antenna-Girl?"

"Don't call me that!" she snapped back at him.  Her face softened a bit,
though his didn't.  "And... um... you were staring, and that's rude.  I
was just helping out a little."

"Wait, let me get this straight.  It's rude to stare, but it isn't rude
to nearly tear right through somebody's wing?"  He raised an eyebrow as
Chisato glared at him.  There was that uncomfortable jealousy again, as
if she honestly expected Edward to come to his senses some day and fall
madly in love with her.  He wasn't in the mood to deal with it.
"Whatever."

Sandra laughed, and Edward melted.  "I don't think that wing issues are
the standard question when it comes to manners."  She sat down next to
Edward, also ignoring the burning stare from Chisato.  "So, let me guess
about this: you're going to absolutely puke if one more person rants
about you being able to beat a certain swaggering peacock of a club
leader."  She smiled, and he returned the smile with a nod.  "I can't
blame you."

Edward inched closer to Sandra, extending his wing so that it brushed
her hand.  She didn't recoil, but seemed quite comfortable.  He smiled
again.  Chisato fumed, both at Sandra and at Edward, and their complete
ignorance of her expression.  She punched the floor.

Mark stood among the assembled members of the Drama Club.  "All right, I
now call this, the first meeting of the Drama Club of Crecheb University
for this school year, to - RICK!"

Rick was still dancing around the room, in some sort of demented ecstacy
from the news about Edward.  "...and verilly, I shall now be revered as
the glory of the wondrous and victorious Drama Club, and women who once
spurned me will flock to my side - not Edward's, for although he is the
one who is triumphant, he isn't much of a dater - and everyone who -"
He noticed the stares from everyone else in the room, and sat down with
a mumbled apology.  Edward and Chisato both sighed and sank their heads
into their hands.

\¤2*¥5¥*2¤/

"That was quite possibly the most sorry excuse for a meeting I have ever
attended," sighed Nina, getting an approving nod from both Edward and
Chisato as they walked beside her.  The three of them hadn't really had a
plan to walk back to their dorms together, it just sort of coalesced that
way.  And Nina was right - the meeting had more or less been a wash.  As
Edward had expected, Mark ranted about beating Kuroki Shuji, Chris broke
the coffee table, Rick overdramatized everything, Jim said nothing even
vaguely comprehensible, and Sally said nothing at all.  Near as Edward
could tell, the high point of the evening had been Sandra - and since he
had been getting glared daggers from Chisato the whole time, that had a
downside, too.

Nina leaned over, now looking directly at Edward.  "So, Edward, when's
the first date?" she asked, invoking a glare from Chisato and a rather
befuddled look from Edward.  "Oh, come off it, wings.  You DID ask the
girl out, didn't you?"

Edward rubbed the back of his neck, now evoking a disapproving glare
from Nina and a slightly more approving look from Chisato.  "Well... I
sort of thought about it, but... um... there was never really a good time
to do it, so I sort of... no."

Chisato's face split into a wide grin, and she shrugged at Nina.  "Well,
that's okay, isn't it?  I mean, they've just met, so there's absolutely
no reason for Edward to ask Sandra out!"  She put her hand on his
shoulder, as if content in knowledge that he was still free.  Edward
opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.

"What do you MEAN he doesn't have a reason?" shouted Nina, her face now a
scowl.  Chisato looked at her cock-eyed, and Edward realized that Nina
hadn't picked up on this aspect of Chisato's personality.  "I mean, come
on!  He and Sandra hit it off perfectly!  I haven't even seen Edward get
along that well with you, and the two of you are almost always -"

"Hey!"  Chisato was scowling now, leaning over Nina - a difficult feat,
considering she was shorter than the cat woman.  "That's an outright lie!
Edward and I get along much better than he and that girl do!"

"Are you blind?  They're absolutely made for each other!  You can't not
see that!"  Edward sighed and dropped his head into his hands as the two
women continued arguing, trading insults and arguments, neither one even
realizing the other's position.  Edward started to continue the walk back
to his dorm, then realized that there was somebody in his way.

"Good evening," said Muscle-boy.  Edward hadn't seen him since the rather
disastrous run-in with Kuroki and Rodrigo at the Club Fair.  He hadn't
really been upset about that fact, either.  From a distance, the man
looked like seven feet of bulging muscle that was dangerously near
making Superman look like a wimp.  Up close, it was pretty much the same
thing.  "I believe you remember me from before.  My name is Dimitri
Kokaroff.  You are Edward Delacroix, correct?"

"Um, no," replied Edward, backstepping as Dimitri approached him, hoping
to get Nina and Chisato's notice as they continued to bicker incessantly.
"You wouldn't happen to be here to offer a formal apology from Rodrigo,
would you?"

Dimitri shook his head.  "Actually, no.  Rodrigo wanted to be here
himself, but the... injuries his fall inflicted were rather...
inhibiting.  I volunteered to come here in his stead."  He pounded his
fists together.  "I'm mostly here to inflict severe amounts of pain upon
your person."

Edward sighed, then lurched upwards almost instinctively as Dimitri swung
his massive fist at the freshman.  The big man was rather put off by this
movement, obviously expecting his target to stay put.  "Here we go
again," muttered Edward, letting energy flow through him once again.
With a flap of his wings, he pushed back from Dimitri, hurling energy
blasts at the large man as Dimitri advanced towards him.  If Dimitri felt
the blasts, he certainly didn't show it - he simply stalked forward and
grabbed at Edward.  Panicking, Edward let his wings cut out and plummeted
groundward, then let himself be surrounded by energy once more as he shot
upward.  He slammed hard into Dimitri, staggering the big man ever so
slightly, then sprang backwards and away from his opponent.

Lunging, Dimitri grabbed Edward's leg, spun him around in a wide arc,
then let fly.  Edward felt himself losing control of his flight, then
forced himself to focus and steadied himself once again.  The fight was
going poorly.  He had no chance of beating Dimitri's strength, and he
couldn't hope to down him unless he got pretty creative.  Shooting back
towards Dimitri, he hurled a pair of energy blasts at the man's feet,
then sheathed himself in energy and rammed the man as hard as he could.
He hope that the result would be a surface where the dirt was too loose
for Dimitri to stay upright, toppling him and allowing Edward to take the
chance to get out of the way.  What happened was Dimitri sliding back a
tad and then grabbing the now-vulnerable Edward.  Edward braced himself
for the pain, then felt himself hurtling towards the ground a second
before he hit it with an impact like a trash compactor.  The wind knocked
out of him, he gulped air as Dimitri came back towards him.

Chisato and Nina looked up at the sound of the impact, saw Edward trying
to crawl away from Dimitri and the large man advancing ever-faster on the
fallen freshman.  "Oops.  We should have noticed that."  Chisato focused,
then let loose a bolt of psionic energy, trying to telepathically halt
the large man's advance.

Edward looked up and saw Chiato's typical purple halo extending towards
Dimitri.  "Thanks," he gasped.

"Don't thank me yet, Edward.  I can't hold the guy!"  She grunted, and
Dimitri slowed but did not stop.  "There's something about him, like an
energy-dampening property.  He's too resistant to it - including my
telepathy..."

"Let me try," snarled Nina, springing towards Dimitri faster than either
of her companions could follow.  Dimitri noticed her, but couldn't hope
to stop her as she sprang skyward and kicked him hard in the face, then
fell to the ground and slashed him across the chest with her claws.  He
staggered, and she hit him with a foot sweep and an uppercut, knocking
him to the ground.  Grabbing Nina, he threw her aside, but she tumbled
back to her feet gracefully and sprang at him again, in a leaping and
dashing claw swipe that sent him reeling from both impact and ferocity.
Dimitri backhanded the smaller cat woman, but she again landed
gracefully.  "I can't finish him off..."

Edward saw the window.  "Here - let's see if I can't help you out a bit
there."  Letting the remainder of his energy flow through him, he
pooled his energy in his hands and thrust them forward.  "Force
Judgement Cannon!"  The screaming beam of energy slammed into Dimitri,
and he was appropriately not felled, but staying upright was clearly
taking most of his energy as Edward forced the beam harder.  It only
lasted a second longer, but that second was all Nina needed to unleash
her full ferocity on the man.  Dimitri staggered from another pair of
claw slashes, and as Nina sprang off the large man with a kick, he
toppled and fell, an idiot grin on his face that smacked of the
sleep of unconciousness.

"Gods," muttered Chisato.  "The Perfect Dojo is really gunning for you,
aren't they?"

Nina stalked over, after kicking Dimitri one last time to be absolutely
certain that the man was out cold.  "Quite a guy.  Didn't think there
was anyone left who could pull that off, Edward.  I'm suitably
impressed now."  She helped the young man balance, seeing how obviously
shaken he was.

"Pull WHAT off?" asked Edward, panting.  He had taken quite a beating,
and his wings were rather sore.  They'd need a day or two of rest
before they were back at the top of their game.  What a shame.

"That blast you hit Sir Muscles with," replied Nina, gesturing at the
fallen man.  "It's another one of those racial legend things.  Energy
like that is supposed to be the... um..."  Nina scratched her chin, as
if remembering an old rhyme she'd known years before.  "Um... dragon!
That's it!  It's supposed to be the mark of the dragon.  Knew it was
something good."

Edward sighed and flexed his wings.  "Great.  The world just gets more
surreal."  He backed off from Nina, able to stand without aid once
again.  "I hope nothing like this happens tomorrow.  I need a rest."

Chisato raised an eyebrow.  "Haven't you noticed, Edward?  This stuff
always happens to you."

"I know."  He sighed again, and twitched his wings.  Sticking his
hands in his pockets, he kept walking towards his dorm, Chisato and
Nina resuming their argument over Sandra.  When Edward was a little
boy, he'd always hated boredom.  Now, he just wished he could get a
little more boredom in his life, and a little less of everything else.

  /
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