The prey had no idea it was being stalked.

There were enough twists and switchbacks in the trail to entice me, to raise the attention of a huntress on the prowl. The manmade corridors, painted in garishly unspeakable colors only a school administration could dream of, weren't enough of a deterrent for my keen senses. Soon the prey came into view, standing in the middle of the basketball courts.

The alpha female was surrounded by a group of younger followers, each of their attentions focused on her teachings. Doubtless she was passing on some game to them, that they might frolic and play in oblivion to the predator stalking them, but they had to know it would not help them survive. Their backs were to me, so I could afford to take my time, position myself just right…. And strike.

"HEY NYAMO!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, which I will humbly tell you is really really loud. "LET'S GO DRINKING TONIGHT!"

Nyamo and her P.E. class jumped and flustered, just like I intended them to, so I decided to gloat before any of them could get a word in edgewise. "The cold-blooded stalker strikes again!" To accent this, I added my best predatory grin.

Nyamo turned around last, almost after all of the girls had begun to ignore my presence, and gave that long-suffering sigh that meant she disapproved of some perfectly normal thing I said. The look on her face said about the same thing as the sigh, meaning I was about to get a lecture.

"Yukari…"

Yup, I knew it. A lecture.

"Yukari," she repeated, "We can't go out drinking every night. First of all, I can't afford it."

"You can always afford it," I replied. "What else are you going to spend your money on?"

"Second," she continued, completely ignoring my perfectly sensible complaint, "I don't think this town, or this planet, can survive you getting as drunk as you did last week. That was just…" She shook her head.

"It obviously wasn't that bad, if I still don't remember it. Or is your little gym-teacher brain not able to follow my leaps of logic?"

The whole "stupid gym teacher" thing is a scam, of course. She's honestly one of the smartest people I know, although I can't tell her or she gets all big-headed about it. Mostly I just say things like that to rile her up; mostly she doesn't mind. It's the way our little universe works: we banter, nobody gets hurt.

Not this time, though. She turned away from me, something resembling hurt in her deep gray eyes. There was an awkward silence, the girls in their PE uniforms looking at the scene with no small dose of morbid curiosity. Nyamo seemed to notice them for the first time, and pointed to the opposite corner of the court. After terse instruction to her class to go practice, she looked back at me again. "Yukari, I wish you wouldn't."

This was a Serious Moment, which of course means that I completely blew it. "Wouldn't what? Point out the obvious side effects of your being a gym teacher?"

"I wish you wouldn't insult me like that in front of the students. In private is one thing, even if it's not necessarily something that I enjoy. But in front of the students, you're SUPPOSED to be a professional."

I shook my head and wagged my finger, my best impression of a disappointed schoolmarm. "No, no, no. You don't get it, Nyamo. You're supposed to insult me back!"

She closed her eyes sadly. "No, Yukari, you don't get it. I'm not going out drinking with you tonight. And if you keep behaving like this, not ever."

See what I mean about the big head? Give the girl a shred of power and she abuses it. And a significant shred of power she had, too, for two reasons: 1) I really wanted to go out drinking, and b) she's really cute when she's angry.

So I let go of some of my bargaining chips to defuse the situation. Reluctantly, of course, but I had no choice.

"…I'll pay," I said in as small a voice as I can muster.

She looked at me with some surprise, placated slightly. "Not enough, Yukari. I usually let you ride roughshod over me, but not this time. I… I have a date tonight."

I looked at her with shock. "You have a date? YOU?"

"….yeah." She seemed to make up her mind about something, then looked at me more seriously. "Yeah, I do."

"Well, at least let me tag along. I promise not to kill him. Please?" I was getting even more desperate by the minute, and there was a new objective now. After all, no man I knew of was worthy of Nyamo. I might not kill the guy, but I damn well intended to scare him off.

"No. You'll scare him off again, just like you've done the last seventeen times." Damn, she knew me too well.

"Hey, they were all scumbags anyway. I couldn't bear to see my best friend tied down to a creep like that!"

"The last one was alright. He was a teacher too, remember?"

"He was ALSO," I reminded her, "A mafia boss."

"Just because his last name was Yakuza doesn't mean he WAS Yakuza."

"What? That doesn't make any sense. Of course he was." I thought a bit. "And the guy before that? The pedophile?"

"He said I looked young! It was a compliment!"

"Sure it was. See, Nyamo, this is why you have me. I just bet the next guy's going to be an axe murderer, and if you didn't have me, you'd end up dead in a ditch somewhere."

"Okay."

I blinked. "Okay what?"

"Okay, you can come along. But you're not allowed to act all… weird. And you're not allowed to call him an axe murderer."

"YES!"

"No getting drunk." She was whispering now, as some of her students (Kagura, Tomo, and Osaka, of course) had come around to snoop. I shooed them off with one hand.

"Three glasses?"

She shook her head. "None."

"Two?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm not haggling with you, Yukari."

"Oh, all right." I pouted. "No alcohol for me."

"I'll drive," she said, tugging at one of the two strands of black hair that fell down into her face. "He's…. He's meeting me at the restaurant. The one we always go to. So I'll pick you up, okay?"

I waved my hand, like I always do to dismiss something. I dismiss things a lot, so I'm pretty sure that arm is stronger than the other one by now, from all the extra movement. "No, no, no. I'm treating this time, remember? I'll even pay for your date's dinner… unless he gets crab." The thought of someone other than me enjoying crab filled me with barely-controlled rage, but I brought myself down to stability after a few seconds. "So you don't need to worry yourself about driving, either. After all, that's what friends do!"

"I think you're the only person I need to worry about leaving me dead in a ditch, Yukari. Your driving "style" is going to get both of us killed someday."

"Oh come on. Your lack of driving finesse will drive away guys faster than anything I could do." I pantomimed holding a steering wheel in my hands. "Driving a hundred and forty along a winding ocean road… now THAT'S romance! Where's the glamour in obeying all posted speed limits?"

"The glamour of staying alive." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, as if she wore glasses. I still don't know why she does it, but she does it enough that she's going to get a very narrow nose to go with my strong right arm. "Alright, here's the deal. You want to drive, you don't drink."

I protested at first, but my want to get to the restaurant and back in a timely manner outweighed my need to get sloshed, and did I mention she's cute when she's angry? Eventually it was settled: I'd drive, she and Potential Axe Murderer Man would drink. Despite my seeming alcoholism, I'm not actually addicted to the stuff, it just gives me an excuse to act the way I usually do. I can be just as drunk with or without.

Chiyo took that moment to pop in and ask her beloved Gym Teacher a question about basketballs or something, so I took the same moment to get out of there before my prep period ended.

The rest of the day went smoothly. I handled my classes with my usual mix of rigorous instruction and compassionate life teaching, with a bit of chalk throwing in between. (Hey, the kids get on my nerves sometimes. What can I say?)

I only had a short time at home before the fiasco that was undoubtedly going to be the night's "date", so I took a shower and threw on a pair of khakis and my favorite sweater (Yes, THAT sweater. Yes, I have more than one of THAT sweater. I like it. Bite me.) and headed out the door.

My car was there, trusty as ever: The Yukarimobile. The kids seem terrified of it for some reason, but dinged up as it may be, I love that car to death. Mostly because of all the time I've spent in it with Nyamo, partly because it's so dented that it utterly befuddles police radar. And passing birds.

Her apartment wasn't far from mine, so I got there in less than a minute. Traffic rules are just suggestions, right?

Nyamo was actually waiting outside when I got there, dressed up more than I've ever seen her in her life. I suddenly felt very underdressed and very distracted at the same time—a slinky black number, accentuated by her hair and eyes, set off with a sparkly crystal necklace that set my inner ADD to twitching. She looked damned good, more than usual, and it was for some guy?!

Needless to say, when she got in the car and rapidly strapped herself in, I said as much. "You must really like this guy, huh? Putting out on the first date?"

Maybe it was a little harsh of me to say it, and I realized that the question was a little bit out of line just after I said it. Nevertheless, all she did was blush and stammer "Er, um, I don't know, I just wanted to look pretty… just for tonight. Not necessarily for him."

She did look pretty, but the only reason that I was even with her tonight was because of "him". Jealousy burned inside me just as strongly as any of my other emotions, and I just barely managed to growl out a "Sure. Fine." before throwing the Yukarimobile in gear and hurtling across the parking lot.

By the time I had gotten halfway across town, I realized that something VERY weird was going on. There was silence. My half was, of course, because I was sulking jealously. But on any ordinary day, on any ordinary trip out to dinner, she'd be yelling in my ear every time I ignored a traffic light or something minor like that. But all she did was sit there, looking out the window with a "lights are on, but nobody's home" expression on her face.

Of course, I was too busy plotting against Axe Murderer (who I was by now convinced was also a rapist) to pay her odd behavior all that much heed. I now had a dozen different scenarios to drive the creep away from Nyamo, only a few of which actually required that he stay alive through to the end of the process.

The restaurant was as brightly-lit as ever. The mood of the place was semi-formal-semi-casual, such that I was underdressed and Nyamo was overdressed. There were some people standing outside, waiting for tables, a seat at the bar, or just enjoying the balmy spring Friday evening.

"So where did Mister Mysterious say he'd meet you?" I tried to keep the acid out of my voice, but kinda failed.

"Um, outside. He said he'd be in a… business suit."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Do you even know the guy's NAME?"

"Shinji… Tenkawa."

My suspicion increased. "You don't even remember, do you? You just picked a random, fairly common name."

Her shoulders drooped, but her laconic behavior was replaced with sheer twitchy nervousness. In no time flat, she went from 'weeping willow' to 'squirrel on methamphetamines'. "Yeah. I just made it up. I don't remember his name. Mom just set us up for no reason, and I've only heard his name and seen his picture once, and I'm not even sure why I'm here doing this 'cause I haven't been on a date in ages and you're right he's probably an axe murderer and you should probably just drop me off at home."

I dismissed her concerns with my oh-so-powerful Right Hand Wave. (Should I call out that attack every time I use it?) "Hey, you decided to go on a date with this guy. I'll keep you safe, like I said. Hell, I'll even be sober! So let's find this guy, have some food, and then report him and his body burial spot to the authorities afterwards."

She shrugged demurely, exhausted by her earlier hyperactive episode, so I plowed my way through the horde of enemy cars and set a foothold in a fairly decent parking spot. I parked pretty well, actually, seeing as even Nyamo didn't complain about the angle the car was at.

There was one person in a business suit standing outside the restaurant, but it obviously wasn't Axe Murderer: even Nyamo would admit that her "Shinji Tenkawa" was probably not a female. The woman in the business suit looked at us oddly as we discussed her, but she gave no indication that she was secretly a man in disguise.

Fifteen minutes later, there was still no sign of anyone resembling Nyamo's mystery date. She had started out this search as a nervous wreck, but what she had become could only be described as a spastic catastrophe. Suddenly, though, she grabbed me by the sleeve of my sweater and said "Well, it looks like he stood me up don't you think we should go inside and do what we came here to do maybe do you think?"

She marched off into the restaurant right after this, leaving me to descramble her cryptic, punctuation-starved mess of a sentence all on my own. However, I was so happy at the nonappearance of Axe Murderer that I just bounded in after her, plunked myself down on the bar next to where she'd situated herself, and ordered a nice, big plate of crab.

Hey, I was happy, I was with Nyamo, and I was paying. I honestly did feel a little bad about sticking her with the bill so often, but when I was paying it's anything goes, and thus, crab legs.

Nyamo, though, surprised me by ordering a full bottle of sake. A big bottle, too, not the little one that she usually splits with me. The bartender knew me, and didn't ask any questions, but I knew better. "Nyamo, are you going to drown the loss of your Axe Murderer would-be boyfriend in all that?"

She didn't seem to hear me. In fact, she seemed very distracted by something I couldn't see, in the same way that I was distracted by her dress. "Oh. Uh, you can drink if you want. I won't hold you to it, really." She gestured toward the bottle that had just arrived, then poured herself a hefty shot and downed it in one gulp.

I refused. I had promised to pay, and I had promised not to drink. I'm too good of a friend to renege on any promises that I make that don't involve crab. Nyamo just shrugged… and practically crawled into the bottle.

It was truly amazing to watch her go. She wasn't drinking to have fun, this much was obvious. Neither did she seem to be drinking as a social lubricant. Instead, she was downing glass after glass of potent rice wine… just to get drunk. I had seen it before, but I had never seen it before in her.

As the bottle drained, the pile of crab and dumplings shrunk, and Nyamo's inhibitions began to vanish. She started talking more candidly about work, about her students, about her personal life. I would have cut her off after half the bottle, but I decided in the end not to. That was the kind of thing she often did to me, and since she was obviously trying very hard to get discombobulated, I let her. I knew she had her reasons; she always does.

As the night sped on, she got more and more interesting. I was ordering virgin daiquiris, to keep my promise to Nyamo, but she kept trying to spike them with her sake so I quit ordering anything after a while and just watched.

I found out, after a while, things that I could never have dreamed of knowing about my best friend: her political leanings, her thoughts on lemmings, her techniques of self-love (I steered the topic away from that one pretty quickly), and the name of her childhood imaginary friend. I tried to be just as crazy and hyper and psycho as she was, but couldn't; her drunken Yukari-esque-ness caused a role reversal in little old me as well. Now that I knew how Nyamo felt being the sober one, I actually kind of pitied her a little.

The climax of the night, such as it was, was my normally shy and reserved best friend standing up on the bar and delivering the most beautiful, heartfelt (though still terribly off-key) rendition of "Brown Eyed Girl" that I had ever heard. She even managed to get the English pronunciations mostly right! With the startled applause of the bemused bar patrons behind us, I led her back to the Yukarimobile to take her home.

It was late at night by this point, possibly even early in the morning, so traffic was light. Nyamo was falling asleep, but she would occasionally flail an arm or shout out a random song lyric. I was so focused on getting her home before anything bad happened that I actually obeyed a traffic law or two.

Then, a mile or so from her home, I heard her say my name.

The clarity of her voice startled me, as did the intensity in her blue-gray eyes as I glanced over to see what was in the matter. Her drunken posture was gone, replaced with a curiously prim schoolgirl stance. Seriously, her hands folded in her lap and everything.

"Yukari," she repeated.

I looked at her again, hoping beyond hope that she would say the words I had dreamed about for so long.

I watched her lips move, watched them make what I believed were the sweetest words I could ever hear.

Unfortunately, I would never remember them, because at that point the semitruck that I wasn't paying attention to smashed into the rear driver's door of my car.

Author's Note: No Azumanga Daioh characters were harmed in the making of this fanfiction. Honestly, I love Nyamo and Yukari too much to allow them to come to any permanent harm. And so, tune in for the next chapter to meet the voices in Yukari's head.

Please review! I want to know how I'm doin'!