* * *

Chapter Two: The Guardians

* * *

"Remember, the most important thing is not how hard you hit, it's *where* you hit. The most efficient way to escape from a would-be attacker, is either to elbow him in solar plexus or give him a knee in the groin," Ryan Cretes explained and demonstrated the moves on a punching bag that was shaped like a human.

His words were followed by nods from his small class, mostly women, who were there to learn some basic self-defense.

"Any question?" he asked. The class shook their heads.

"Okay, then you give it a try."

Ryan stepped back and watched his class split up in smaller groups and practice on the five human-sized punching bags. Perhaps this wasn't the easiest way to make money, but he didn't mind. It helped him stay in shape, and the room was oddly comfortable to stay in – mats on the wooden floor, walls decorated with a few, but eye-catching Japanese images, and the words 'Rising Sun Martial Arts School' painted on the wall (along with the Japanese sign for 'rising sun', courtesy of Suzuka).

A familiar feeling in the perimeter of his mind caught his attention, and he headed for one of the few windows that weren't covered by long, white curtains.

Outside, a young, black-haired woman – girl – was unlocking the door. It was Deirdre, the youngest member of the team of mutants who currently lived above the martial arts studio.

Ryan frowned slightly at the sight of Deirdre - she should have been back hours ago, and this wasn't the first time she'd shown up hours after she was supposed.

Ryan shook his head to clear his mind. He could talk to Deirdre later. Right now he had a class to teach.

One of his students, a slightly chubby housewife, elbowed a much-abused practice doll, then gave it a knee in the groin. Ryan smiled and nodded.

"Yes. Just like that."

The women smiled back, and Ryan turned his attention to his small class once more.

* * *

One hour later, when Ryan had left the next class in Suzuka's capable hands, and had taken a much-needed shower, he went looking for Deirdre. She wasn't hard to find – after all, it was limited how many places one could hide in the large, but old, apartment that Ryan and his team called 'home'.

He found her in the small kitchen, looking out the window.

"Seraphim."

Deirdre winced slightly, then turned around with forced nonchalance. Ryan had used her codename. Not a good sign.

"Yes, Ryan?"

Ryan sent her a stern look, the gesture only adding to the natural air of authority that surrounded him. Some would probably have found it strange that someone who was only twenty-three would act that maturely, but then again - some people probably had no idea of just how hard life could be when you were alone on the streets.

"Weren't you supposed to be back hours ago?" Ryan asked, still watching Deirdre.

"I was?" Deirdre asked, and tried to play on her natural look of wide-eyed innocence. Unfortunately, it didn't work on Ryan.

"Yes, you were. You were playing poker again, weren't you?" Ryan asked. It was more of a guess than anything, but he had obviously hit the right spot - Deirdre dropped the innocence-act, and tried a new strategy.

"Yes, but you *know* I'm good at it! We need the money, Ryan, remember?"

Ryan sighed.

"Listen, Dre, I appreciate the gesture, but could you please tell the rest of us if you're going gambling? We get worried if you just disappear, or get home several hours too late. It's dangerous out there, you know that." And she did - they all did. Most of them had grown up in a world that was tired and weary and dangerous - only Ryan and Kyle, the oldest of them, had more than vague memories of a time brighter than this.

Deirdre sighed and looked away.

"I know. I'm sorry for making you worried," she said, then looked at him, and her face brightened a bit. "But I made 40 bucks today!"

Ryan fought back a smile, and shook his head.

She was incorrigible.

* * *

"I can't move," Jhonen moaned.

Diana looked at the pitiful sight of her teammate, who lay on the couch with a pained expression on his face.

"Well, you were the one who offered to help with the class," she pointed out, unable to resist the temptation.

"And I'll never do it again," he whimpered.

"I thought you were supposed to be big and strong, you know, being a boy and all," Diana teased good-natured, and sat down in a chair next to the couch, watching Jhonen with an amused expression.

"If there were any part of my body that I could move without unbearable pain, I'd hit you with it," Jhonen replied, not moving even an inch to get up from the couch.

"Awwww...is poor, little Jhonen tired?"

Jhonen glared at her, but it didn't have the desire effect – Diana just grinned, and Jhonen sighed.

"I'll never understand what's so damn attractive about workout, anyway. The spirits feel the same way – they don't get it either," he said, referring to his ability to communicate with the spirit world. It had taken a while for the others to get used to - while they couldn't see or hear the spirits, it still felt strange to hear Jhonen talk about people who were long dead.

"They're dead, Jhonen. Of course they don't exercise," Diana replied with a small smile.

"You know, right now I wish I was, too," Jhonen sighed and closed his eyes, still with the suffering expression on his face.

Diana reached out and gave him a friendly pat on the knee.

"Look at the bright side – hopefully, it'll be a while before Suzuka needs to demonstrate something on you again."

"With my luck...no. It won't."

Diana smiled.

"Poor baby. Is there anything you need?"

"Other than an IV and some anesthetics?" Jhonen replied, opening one eye to look at her.

Diana sent him a look that clearly said 'Nice try, but no way', and Jhonen smiled weakly.

"Then maybe a couple of aspirins and some water?"

Diana smiled, and headed for the bathroom to find the painkillers for her teammate.

* * *