AAAAAAHHH! GOMEN NASAI, MINNA-SAN!!! I'm so so so terribly sorry, and you may hate me all you want for taking so long, because my laziness is entirely to blame and therefore it is my fault and I will stand and take whatever insults you throw at me. I feel terrible for making you wait so long...I hope this makes up for it, at least a little.

Thank yous:
Vitanie Tora: I don't think the review count is what's going to drive people insane...it's me and my stupid laziness. Thanks for the review Tora-chan!
arrowgirl23: Thanks very much, I'm glad you like it.
Thunder Ring: I'm not saying anything, tee hee. Hope you like the fights.
Angelkitsune-Naomi: Grrr...nah nah, it's all good, I will still follow your story come summer! I love Tamora's calculations too, heh heh.
Yumiko-san: No problem, I love helping people!
Tawariell: Well...the next chappie is up now, considering you'd be reading this. :)
Psyco Anime Luver: Thanks!
AuroraNin: I'm glad Tamora is growing on you. Hope you like this fight!

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH, but you know what I do own... Remember, six reviews before the next update (and I won't be super lazy this time).

Oh, one more thing before we start: The beginning of this chapter is total crap, so I hope the fight scene makes up for it. I had to tie it together somehow, and...my mind wasn't very into it until the fight scene. Hope you understand.

CHAPTER TEN – ROUND ONE

Tamora awoke at the crack of dawn. Catalyn was still asleep, her face pressed against the pillow with a small smile. She stood, yawned, stretched, and left the bedroom. She paused at each of the bedroom doors, which were both closed. She could hear two distinct loud snores from one room that could only belong to Yusuke and Kuwabara. When she pressed her ear against Kurama and Hiei's door, she could faintly hear light breathing. Looking around the place, she realized that nothing had been moved around. She was the first one up.

She unzipped the sweater she'd been wearing to cover her broken cast and observed the damage. She would probably be able to hide it with some adhesive tape, if she could only find some. Conveniently, she found some in one of the kitchen cupboards under the sink. She fixed up the cast and stared at it. Finally she decided it would have to do.

Next, she lifted her broken arm up and down slightly. She blinked. It still pained her. It throbbed a little from the movement it had gone through the previous night, but it would be easy enough to ignore. She wished it would just heal already.

Tamora felt a slight unrest in her stomach. She opened the fridge and found some bran blueberry muffins in little plastic bags. She took one and leisurely munched on it, throwing out the bag. She sighed. It was so boring here.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She'd been feeling like this for a little while now, and it wasn't like her. She didn't like it, either. She quickly but quietly headed for the door, opened it, and exited the room, closing the door again behind her.

She strode down the hall towards the elevator. She reached with her left hand to press the button labeled with an arrow pointing downwards.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Tamora's fingers twitched, pushing on the upwards button, and she whipped around to face Hiei. Again.

She sighed. "Oh, so it's you."

Hiei frowned at her, leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. There was a strange sort of glint in his eyes, but then again, he always glared like that. "Go back to the room," he said. "I did not come here to babysit you."

There was a high bell-like ring, and the elevator doors opened. They were empty.

"Then don't," Tamora told him coolly. "I'm not your prisoner."

"Tell that to Koenma."

The elevator doors closed again, but Tamora didn't care anymore. Somehow, just that brief exchange with Hiei had calmed her, and she felt more like herself again. She turned her back to him and strode back to the room.

Within half an hour, everyone else had woken up. Tamora felt the color drain from her face when she looked at Kuwabara's ugly, sleepy face, and she forced herself to look at the ground for ten minutes straight.

Finally, everyone had washed up and was ready to head to the tournament arena. Yusuke and Kuwabara were both wearing torn t-shirts and pants. Hiei wore his black cloak as always, and Kurama was wearing a new green and white outfit. Catalyn wore her usual fighting gear (which she wore pretty much all the time anyways), and Tamora kept her uniform. She refused to wear clothes from Spirit World, so it would have to do.

They left the hotel and walked through a path in the woods, different from where Tamora had been the night before with the announcer, and after about ten minutes, they found themselves staring up at a large dome that seemed to be made of giant bones. Tamora frowned at it, ignoring the comments her teammates made, and they made their way through a growing crowd of demons and marched through the door.

There to greet them was none other than the announcer himself. He gave Tamora a honeyed smile, and then faced the rest. "Good morning. I trust your accommodations were comfortable."

"Yes, they were excellent, thank you," Kurama said, speaking what the others would not. No one else had manners like his.

The announcer gave Tamora another look. "Well, the fight before yours is just about to finish, and there will be a quick five-minute clean up before you are announced," he told them. "Just go through the door on your left here, and you can wait in the wings until it's time." He indicated the hallway before them, and a door a bit further down.

"Thank you," Kurama said, and Yusuke led them through the door.

"Good luck," the announcer called. "I look forward to seeing your fight. It will surely be an entertaining one."

While they waited in the wings, the gang discussed strategy.

"We shouldn't go up there to fight with a specific fighting order," Catalyn said. "We want to be able to match our opponents as best as possible. Especially in Tamora's case, we need to make sure her opponent isn't insanely powerful. I'll sniff out a good lowlife for her."

"A good idea," Kurama said. "I'll assist you with that."

A horn sounded somewhere. "And now, for our next big match-up!" a female voice yelled into a microphone somewhere. "It's Team Clownabout versus the winners of the Dark Tournament, none other than Team Urameshi!"

Yusuke grinned. "I love hearing my name!" he said, and they marched out of the wings and into the bright stadium lights.

The battle ring was huge, and took up most of the floor space, leaving room for sidelines. Surrounding it were the stands, filled with demons of all sorts of shapes and sizes. Many were booing and cheering and yelling things Tamora couldn't quite make out, but they sounded suspiciously like insults.

There, across from the ring, facing them, was Team Clownabout. All six members were dressed in different clown outfits. One of them resembled more of a mime. The clowns were of all sorts of shapes. One was large and fat and almost the size of a house, another wall tall and skinny (and seemed to be walking on stilts), one was quite short, and the other two were pretty much average-sized, and their outfits bore mix-matching colors. Tamora figured they were twins. They all wore sick smiles pasted on their faces.

Standing on the ring was Koto, the feline announcer from the Dark Tournament. She held the microphone up and spoke: "Team captains, come forward and announce your spares!"

Yusuke, with a leisurely hop, stepped up and faced the mime. Yusuke pointed at Hiei. "He and I are sitting out this one," he said.

"And you, Mr. Mime?" Koto asked.

The mime looked back and pointed. The twin clowns nodded.

"They sat out their weakest fighters for this round," Catalyn noted. "The next weakest would be the fat one, it seems." She turned to Kurama. "What do you think?"

"I'd have to agree," Kurama said, "although I'm guessing brute strength is his asset here. That may prove to be rough."

"I'll manage," Tamora said coolly. "Brute strength is nothing."

"But you have no weapon," Catalyn objected. "That's another issue. Fists and feet won't do it for this one; he's way too big. The little one would be best to use that kind of thing on, but from what I'm sensing, it would be hard on you…"

Tamora then realized the truth in her words. She'd been training in swordplay, but she had no actual sword. Yusuke, Kurama, and Catalyn didn't normally use swords, and Kuwabara's was made of his own aura. Only Hiei used a real sword…

Hiei? Hell no.

But what other choice did she have?

She faced the youkai. "Lend me your sword," she said, as if issuing an order.

"No," Hiei said flatly, his eyes narrowing.

"You can't let her fight without a weapon!" Kuwabara protested, and Tamora realized that he'd actually been listening to their conversation.

"Yeah, Hiei, it's not like you don't have others," Catalyn pointed out.

Yusuke hopped over. "Hey guys, they're sending fatso over there out first." They looked out behind him and saw the fat clown stepping up.

Everyone stared at Hiei, who glared back. "No."

Kurama leaned over and muttered something into Hiei's ear, and Hiei stiffened. Then he tore his sheath off his belt and gave it a violent toss to Tamora. She blinked and snatched it. Whatever Kurama had told him, it must have been a good threat. She ran her fingers over the hilt, then separated the sword from its sheath. The blade glistened in the bright spotlights. She nodded in satisfaction. This'll do, she decided. Then she stepped forward.

"Good luck!" Catalyn called. "You're gonna do awesome!"

"I don't need your support," Tamora snapped. Without looking back, she stepped to the center, where the fat clown awaited her.

The fat clown held out a chubby hand, reaching out with short, chubby fingers. Tamora merely frowned at him.

"Okay!" Koto yelled. "Here we go! It's Big Daddy versus Tamora in round one! On my go… Three, two, one…Fight!" She leaped back, out of harm's way, and a horn sounded.

Tamora took a few steps back as a precaution, just as the Doctor told her to do. She held the sword out in front of her in the proper defensive position, but ready to strike as soon as necessary.

Big Daddy looked down at her, his fake smile gone. A large blue tear had been traced under one of his eyes. "You have poor manners," he said in a deep, rumbling voice, but it wasn't a voice of power. "That saddens me."

Tamora said nothing. Instead, she switched into an attacking mode, holding her sword out as if about to make a thrust.

"You do not acknowledge your opponent," Big Daddy continued, his voice filling with sorrow. "Again, it is a depressing thing."

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but Tamora had had enough. She felt ready. She charged forward, leaped into the air, and brought the sword down over his head.

Suddenly, a giant white fist soared up to meet her. She hurriedly stopped her swing and held the sword vertically in front of her in an attempt to block the attack, but her left arm didn't have enough force.

It all seemed like a blur to her. Suddenly there was impact, as if her body was being crushed together, and she felt her cast crack and a jolt of electrifying pain course through her arm up to her shoulder. She felt the blunt edge of her sword hit her left shoulder, and then suddenly her grip had loosened and the sword flipped over her, landing near the edge of the ring. Then she was falling, falling fast, and she was spinning, like she couldn't tell what was the ground and what was the ceiling. She hit the ground hard and rolled over her broken arm, drawing a sharp intake of breath. She stopped rolling at the edge of the ring, far away from her sword.

She was on her back. Her stomach muscles contracted, and she pulled herself into a sitting position, clutching her broken arm, which wouldn't stop throbbing no matter how much she commanded it to. She had landed on her behind, right below her tailbone, and somehow, she had escaped the fall miraculously unharmed. It was the punch that had dealt the damage. Her left wrist stung too, from the force with which the fist hit the sword in her feeble attempt to push it back. Indeed, his brute force would overpower her. She needed a strategy, and fast.

The Spirit Detectives were yelling, but she ignored them. Big Daddy was facing her. He whipped from his pocket a few face-painting crayons. In a flash, the tear on his cheek was gone, and his eyebrows had become large, black, and positioned into a permanent frown. He was glaring at her.

"You attacked before your opponent was ready," he boomed. "You wound me!"

And he charged.

Tamora barely had time to react before his fist was swinging down upon her. She instinctively somersaulted across the ground, rolling onto her feet. Then she sprinted for her sword.

"I can't let you do that," Big Daddy said, and he pulled his fist into another punch, right in front of her.

Tamora gave a small gasp and leaped back, only to meet with another fist. She ducked and ran right through the giant's legs and tried once more to reach her sword.

Again she was forced to fall back. The stadium was roaring, with Koto's commentary and the demons' yells and insults and the Spirit Detectives' cries, but the sounds barely registered in her ears. It was as if a loudspeaker had been tightly covered, muffling the sound. The sights around her were blurs, too, as if a fog had rolled in. All she could see was Big Daddy in front of her, and her sword far behind him. She had to get her sword back. But how? She was outrunning him, that was certain, and she was dodging his punches. She was in every way faster than him. But he was expertly predicting exactly where she'd be when his fist made contact, and so forcing her to retreat. Still, he seemed pretty simple-minded. If she could fool him into doing something else, she just might have a chance.

"Okay," she muttered to herself. "I'm ready. Yeah."

She took off in a near sprint, running around Big Daddy's right. He saw through that instantly, like she knew he would. He punched ahead, and she jumped back and pivoted to the left. He aimed punch after punch, but Tamora leaped back and change direction, picking up speed with each dodge. Large chunks of stone flew through the air with each missed punch, and so Tamora was forced to weave in and out of these as well. Still, she did not stop. She was getting closer, and Big Daddy, for all his attacks, was retreating ever so slightly. He punched again, much closer to her than before, and she stumbled. He aimed another punch to her right, where she had been planning to escape. Her eyes darting wildly, measuring distances, she dove for cover. A smashed rock whizzed past her head.

This was it. She was getting closer… A sudden punch from Big Daddy, and Tamora leaped into action. She jumped into the air, landing on his fist after the punch, and then she hopped up his arm until she reached his shoulder. Big Daddy swung his arms around, trying to throw her off, but she clutched the frills of his costume collar tightly, balancing precariously as she made her way to the back of his neck.

Big Daddy leaned back and reached for his neck, his giant fingers trying to locate her and throw her off, but he couldn't see her. Perfect. As his fingers closed in on her, she jumped, diving through a gap. She landed on her feet and pitched forward, quickly bringing up her good arm for support. Still, she was smirking with satisfaction.

She had reached her sword.

Big Daddy was still yelling, trying to find her, unaware that she was no longer there. It was the perfect opportunity. Without a word, she leaped back up towards the back of his neck and gave her sword two good, solid swings. Blood spurted into her, and she coughed and covered her face with her arm as she fell back down. Two large shadows fell over her, falling to meet her, and she dove out of the ring. There was an almighty crash, resulting in a shower of rocks to spray everywhere, scattering dust over the ring, and a terrible, howling cry, followed by a thud that shook the entire foundations of the stadium.

The dust cleared, and Tamora removed her arm from in front of her face. Big Daddy was on his elbows and knees, moaning and crying in pain. His arms were no more than mere bleeding stubs, for his hands had been severed, lying behind him.

Koto began a count of ten, and the stadium erupted. Tamora realized where she was standing and quickly stepped back up on the ring, carefully avoiding the blood on the ground around her.

"…Ten! That's it!" Koto yelled. "Big Daddy stayed down, and Tamora came back up! She wins the first round!"