Defending

by David Dee

Set in DB Sommer's "Avenging" universe. The world's strangest sort-of team of kind of superheroes is not really gathered, under the quasi- leadership of Dr. Strange aka Hikaru Gosunkugi . With so many parentheses, it has to be good!

4. The Evil Alive

The life of an international criminal, Jigen thought meditatively, was comprised of a dash of glamour, and a great deal of unpleasantness. You got a lot of money in your hands, but it tended to flow through them pretty quickly. You saw lots of interesting places, usually with the law in hot pursuit. And for every solid friend you made, you met five times as many psychos, sadists, and all-around assholes. It almost made you wonder if it was worth it…

Jigen shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was a professional criminal, not a philosopher. It was idiotic for him to get moody and introspective just when he was starting a job.

He shook his head again. The job was what was making him moody and introspective. It just felt off. Jigen was an old hat in the criminal world and something about this one pushed all the wrong buttons. Maybe it was the prospect of working with 'a coterie of skilled individuals', as the letter (from someone calling themselves 'C.C.') had put it—maybe it was the fact that they had sent a letter. Jigen did his best to make sure he knew who could contact him, and when someone found him anyway—it made him nervous. But, no—the truth was Jigen was in no mood to work with all the young blood that was flooding what he called 'the elite criminal circle'. Every young punk with a gimmick was giving himself a name, and declaring himself the biggest, baddest outlaw the world had ever seen. Most of them were incompetents and poseurs, who were just drawing attention to the entire business, especially from the swelling ranks of superheroes.

Jigen grumbled. When he'd been starting out, you worked to earn your name—practicing your techniques, perfecting your skills, proving your worth until the underworld decided you were a cut above the rest. It didn't matter if you were a mutant with the ability to shoot heat rays from your eyes, or that a laboratory accident had given you the strength of a tiger and the durability of refined steel. You started out the same as everyone else, and you proved that you were someone special. And men like him—Jigen gave a fond glimpse at his gauntlets—you worked, and worked with your tools, until you were sure they worked, and sure you could use them well, not rushing out the moment you had a half-working death ray…

Jigen sighed. He was getting old. No, scratch that. He was old. By all rights, he shouldn't have to do this job—but he had debts to pay, a laboratory to maintain, a retirement fund to fill… He nodded. He had to do this job. Even it felt off—even if he was too old, because in this business, the moment you stopped taking the jobs that were offered was the moment you started to disappear…

Jigen knocked on the door to the rather dilapidated building the letter had given as the location. "I'm here about the aluminum siding," he intoned in his gravelly voice.

A familiar face opened the door. "Lazeir, mon ami?"

Jigen started. The Grey Gargoyle was the last person he expected to see in Tokyo. Whoever this 'C.C.' was, he was fielding top talent.

"I prefer to go by Jigen when not on the job…" he noted quietly.

"But of course!" announced the Grey Gargoyle, who Jigen knew for a fact did not like being called 'Paul Pierre Duval'. "I ahm so 'appy to see you, mon ami. Eet's good to 'ave a man of quality 'ere." He gave a dismissive wave of the hand, as if clearing out a bad odor. "So many amateurs. Eet makes we weep."

Jigen frowned as he entered. Even if he agreed with Duval, he didn't admire his sharing that opinion—it was the sort of thing that could lead to bad feelings if the 'amateurs' he was so casually dismissing found about it. In Jigen's experience, criminals who didn't care about the feelings of their partners were not only difficult to work with, but dangerous to themselves and others as well. Duval definitely was proof of this—in fact Jigen was rather surprised that he now regarded Jigen as a friend, given how they'd parted last time, though if there was one thing that the Grey Gargoyle had proved over the years, it was his unpredictability. Still, he was a powerful and skilled member of the trade, even if he was hard to work with.

"I think we should just twist off his head," muttered a dark voice. "Make things easier. Less shares." Jigen pivoted quickly, but calmly to see a hulking man with wild hair standing nearby. The look on his face was unpleasant, to put it mildly.

"Now, now Hyde," said Duval in tones that did not sound too sincere. "You know the boss wouldn't like that…" Jigen blinked. He'd heard a great deal about Hyde—none of it good. He had immense strength, but was vicious, and completely untrustworthy. 'C.C.' was either very sure of himself, or very stupid.

Hyde snarled. "Screw what he wants! I don't like the way the bastard looks!"

Jigen readied his laser gauntlets. He did so with the utmost calm. Calm was one of the first things Jigen had learned in the business. Calm kept you alive. Panic made you dead. If he had to fire, he was going to do so quickly and try to leave these people alive. He didn't want to kill a co-worker on the first day, even if they did.

"Stand down, you two," came a clear female voice. Hyde and the Grey Gargoyle blinked, and backed quietly away from Jigen. He glanced over to see his deliverer— a rather tall, gorgeous woman, whose form brought to mind the word 'statuesque'. Her hair was a silver so fine, it seemed almost blue. Her face glanced over things with an expression that managed to suggest that its owner went through life amused by most things.

"Ahh! Mademoiselle Smith!" declared Duval nervously. "Hyde and I were merely 'aving a leettle fun with ze Lazeir. That ees all. Nothing was meant by eet."

"Well, that's good to know," said the young woman. "I thought things might have been getting serious. I'm glad I was mistaken." She turned to Jigen. "The Living Laser, I presume?"

Jigen gave an absent nod. "I prefer Jigen." He coughed. "Are you 'C.C.'?"

The woman gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, no! I wish I had that honor—but no, he's this way…" She began to walk off, and gestured for Jigen to follow.

Jigen hurried after her. "I'd like to thank you for the help, Miss Smith…"

"Don't mention it," she said merrily. "Those two are just pissed about having to serve guard duty. Any hint of authority and they buckle. And don't bother with 'Miss Smith'. That's just Duval trying to be clever." She turned to him, suddenly. Jigen became even more aware that she was a desperately attractive woman. "I'm the Machinesmith. I'm handling the tech around here."

Jigen nodded awkwardly, and watched her walk away for a short moment. You're too old, Jigen. Remember? He coughed idly. "So—I have to say that—the boss has an interesting taste in names…"

"The Masters of Evil?" The smile on Machinesmith's face took on a slightly sinister bent. " 'C.C' likes truth in advertising."

-----

Defending

Chapter 4—"The Evil Alive"

An "Avenging" Universe Spinoff

By David Dee

-----

"And so I think Son of Satan and I made short work of the slime worms of Salgoth," stated Kagome calmly.

"So, so slimy," whimpered Inu-Yasha.

Hikaru glanced at him, quietly. "Quite." He turned to Miroku. "And you? How'd that 'intelligence reconnaissance' mission turn out…?"

Miroku gave a pleasant nod. "Very well. My sources suggest the death cult chapter we defeated two days ago was in fact a part of the cult of Kali, under the leadership of one Nekra, an albino with mysterious—some say mystical—powers. By all accounts, their recent defeat has thrown them into quite a bit disarray—Nekra's gotten into the habit of making 'prophecies' and—well, having them not come true is bad for business…"

Hikaru nodded. "Well, on my part, I recovered the head of the Golden Monkey from the Smuggler, which means that the Giant Monkey of Doom will not be honoring us with his presence."

Kagome glanced side to side. "So—wasn't that all the major threats you'd detected?"

Hikaru nodded. "Yes. We have cleared the Apocalypse Board for the next few days. Then, on Wednesday, the Erbs of Erewhon invade."

"Didn't we already defeat them?" asked Miroku, suspiciously.

Hikaru shrugged. "They've decided to make another go of it. Can't fault them for their persistence." He sipped his coffee. "But, till then, barring any unforeseen attempts by lunatic cults to do something crazy—we're fine."

Kagome laughed. "All right! We officially rock!"

Hikaru sighed. "Quite."

"Ahem—sir…?"

Hikaru glanced over at the waitress. "Why, yes—I would like a coffee refill!" He smiled forcefully. "How kind of you to notice…"

The waitress coughed. "Actually, sir—some of the other patrons are—nervous—about eating—with super-powered individuals…"

"Of course." Hikaru rolled his eyes. While eating in costume had its advantages—these days, very few people tried to pick fights with him—it did tend to attract notice. "And do the long hours my compatriots and I spend fighting the powers of evil mean nothing?"

The waitress fidgeted nervously. "Well, of course not…"

"And I suppose police officers also get this treatment. And firefighters. And meter maids…"

The waitress glanced guiltily away. "Look, it's not me…"

"It's some of the patrons," said Hikaru. "Well, just relax. You can tell them we'll be out of here as soon as we finish our coffee—" The waitress looked quite relieved. "And I get the cheesecake I ordered."

"You didn't order any—"

"Of course, I did," said Hikaru calmly. "You might have not heard me, but I did."

The waitress grumbled. "Right. Cheesecake. I'll go get it…" She began to head away, and then glanced at him. "You have to tell me—do I know you? You know—when you're not dressed up in gaudy outfits fighting crime?"

"Review that question, and you'll see why I'm not answering it…" said Hikaru.

The waitress frowned, and walked back to the counter. "You really like this café," noted Kagome.

"I'm a man of habits," replied Hikaru. Inu-Yasha winced. Hikaru's method of eating cheesecake counted as one of those—habits. First he cut the cheesecake into small squares, which he then cut into smaller squares, which he would then eat one by one, chewing each one in slow manner.

It was probably the most nerve-wracking thing Inu-Yasha had seen.

Kagome shook her head. "It's hard to believe the world's really been invaded so often…"

"That's because it wasn't always the case," replied Hikaru.

"Really?" asked Kagome. "What happened?"

Hikaru thought it over briefly. "Well, it will probably prove handy some day…" He cleared his throat. "Now, what I'm about to tell you may sound impossible—but I assure you it is not. I should also add that is largely a theory, being difficult to confirm, and constructed out of some very educated guesswork."

Inu-Yasha frowned. "Are ya goin' to get around to tellin' us eventually?"

Hikaru glanced at him irritatedly. "Right." He raised his left hand. "Imagine, if you will, that the universe is a bubble…" A glowing green bubble appeared floating in Hikaru's hand. "Our world—indeed all of our conventional existence—is contained within this bubble." A slightly grim look came over Hikaru's face. "But this bubble is hardly the totality of existence. It is merely one enclosed facet, nestling—in a stream. Normally, the surface of the bubble does a good job of keeping what's in the stream out of the bubble—but sometimes, thin spots form. When this happens—things get in. The bigger the thin spot, the more things—or the more powerful things—can get in. And inside help only makes it easier…" Hikaru shut his eyes.

"So," said Miroku, "we're living on a thin spot…"

"I wish it were that easy…" said Hikaru. He raised his right hand. "You see, ours isn't the only bubble. There are others, which—well, to mix metaphors, are set to different wavelengths…" He shook his head. "Universes have so many attributes that it can be—difficult to come up with an all-purpose analogy." He brought the bubbles towards each other. "Each bubble follows its own timeline. While the majority of them are completely different from each other, each bubble has a surprisingly large number of—siblings, perhaps? Bubbles that have a great deal of resemblance. Close enough—" He smashed the two bubbles together. "That if brought together, they won't automatically cancel each other out." A large bubble nested in the palms of Hikaru's hands, vibrating rather wildly.

"W-wait," said Kagome. "Are you saying our universe—is actually—two universes?"

"Probably more than that," said Hikaru dispassionately. "These things rarely work out as smoothly as one would like them to." He laughed slightly. "Of course, that's only objectively. From our subjective point of view, this has always been one universe, with one consistent timeline. It has to be, or the resulting paradox would be too great for the universe to bear." He sighed. "Mind you, the timelines had to make massive adjustments to accomplish this—after all, given the probable similarity of the two universes, there were most likely over 12 billion people to deal with." He stroked his chin. "Of course most were simply alternate versions of the same person, who combined easily, but in some cases, lives were altered, or even ceased, so that roles could be placed where necessary…"

"What?" said Inu-Yasha.

"Did you know there was an American neurosurgeon, a Doctor Steven Strange, who died in a car crash?" said Hikaru quietly.

There was utter silence at the table for a moment. "Y-you're joking," said Kagome. "And even if you aren't—you—you can't be sure that—"

"That I'm living the life that was originally his? No, but it seems probable." Hikaru shook his head. "Not that it matters. There are forces here beyond comprehension at work here. Steven may have been a better Dr. Strange than I am—I mean, it was his NAME—but I was the one the universe decided was necessary for this situation…" He leaned forward slightly.

"You know, a person could feel honored to be chosen thus…" noted Miroku.

"Or feel that they were under a crushing, horrific amount of pressure," said Hikaru, sitting up again. "Take your pick. I know I have." He glanced at the bubble. "Now, all these adjustments—are putting a great deal of strain on the universe. Thin spots are forming with great rapidity and most of them are happening here, at the center of manipulation." He shook his head. "And it's not just the fluctuations in the space-time walls. People from—the discarded pasts and futures of the old universes are showing up here as well. The poor bastards." He looked at the others. "Their entire lives are almost completely different—and they have no idea—at best only a niggling suspicion…" He took a deep breath. "The philosophical implications are naturally, quite troubling…" The waitress walked over to their table. "Ahh!" said Hikaru cheerfully. "My cheesecake!"

As Hikaru began to immerse himself in the sweet, cheesy goodness, Miroku glanced at him. "You mentioned 'manipulation'." He leaned forward. "Are you suggesting this was—intentional?"

Hikaru paused from slicing his cheesecake. "Universes don't combine on accident. It's somewhat against their nature. Besides look at this place—this sudden boom in superheroes, and villains—all centered in Tokyo. It reeks of contrivance. Someone made the original change here—involving superheroes—and we're all living in the aftershocks."

"But who?" asked Kagome.

"How should I know?" said Hikaru. "Probably one of the usual batch of loonies—I doubt that facet of existence was too different…" A troubled expression came over his face. "Actually, he's probably not the same person he was when he altered the timeline. In fact, two people may have done it simultaneously, and unknowingly combined." Hikaru's voice trailed off, as his eyes took on a faraway look.

"Yeah, well," said Inu-Yasha, "Interestin' as all this is, I don't want to talk about it anymore." He groaned. "It's makin' my head hurt."

"Believe me," said Hikaru dismally, " you are just scratching the surface of the scary, scary things I know…" He lifted his fork to his mouth, and began to slowly chew on his cheesecake.

-----

The room was typical—a table, some chairs, and a few monitors. Not a thing in it looked like it couldn't be packed up and moved on short notice. That impressed him quietly—it was rare to see 'criminal masterminds' who realized that mobility was better than reinforcement. Jigen had seen a great deal of money blown over the years on "impenetrable" fortresses that almost invariably turned out to be penetrable after all.

Finished with the room, Jigen glanced over his 'partners' for this job.

Aside from Duval and Hyde, (still watching the door) they seemed to be a man dressed up as a butterfly, an extremely muscular young woman wearing a red halter top, a grey choker and a black skirt and leggings, and of course, Machinesmith.

He'd worked with worse crowds

The man in the butterfly costume fidgeted nervously again. He'd done that constantly, eyes glancing over the corners, the ceiling, the floor, the table. At first, Jigen had thought that he was paranoid and on guard, but then he realized the truth—he was staring at the dirt. This particular 'Master of Evil' was a neat freak.

The brawny woman flexed her arm. Jigen, despite himself, shook his head. The sheer amount of muscle on her frame seemed almost unnatural, especially when contrasted with her sweet, almost cherubic face. This woman looked like she could go toe to toe with Hyde and win. Jigen scowled. He was starting to mentally pit his teammates against each other. That was a bad sign.

Noticing his gaze, the girl snarled. Jigen calmly looked away. He'd have to watch himself with that one. Strength apparently wasn't the only thing she rivaled Mr. Hyde in.

That just left Machinesmith. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Cool, elegant—exactly his sort. But also, enigmatic, cunning—exactly the sort he avoided.

"So, this is the place," came a brash, arrogant voice. Jigen turned. A young woman clad in what looked like a pale white skintight outfit entered, another young woman in a frilly dress trailing behind her, who glanced timidly at the gathering. "Quite dingy." She shook her head. "Well, we have arrived. I am Slyde and this is my potent partner, Whirlwind."

"I thought you said I could be the Human Top!" said the more timid girl.

"We discussed this," said Slyde, "and we decided that "Human Top" lacked dignity…"

"No we didn't!" said Whirlwind.

"Whirlwind—do you want our inferiors to laugh at us?"

The man in the butterfly suit stood up suddenly. "Inferiors! Listen, you tiny-brained harlot, I am a Tokyo University graduate, and a mutant! Your genetic superior in every way! In a perfect world, I would have the right to grind your filthy bodies into powder, and use it to fertilize my lawn, but unfortunately, Utopia is still denied to us."

Jigen blinked. He may have been seriously underestimating the extent of this man's—quirkiness.

"My brother and I are also mutants," declared Slyde, "so your claims of genetic superiority are clearly insane. In fact, I strongly doubt you can rival the perfection of grace and form that are Slyde and Whirlwind, Butterfly Man…"

"Gypsy Moth," stated the man, tersely. "I'm Gypsy Moth. I've been robbing silk shipments for the last five weeks!"

"Brother?" said the muscular woman.

"It's a long story," muttered Whirlwind. "Let's just say sis and I have issues with our mother."

"That's you, Anna," said Slyde. "I'm just fine."

"Calling yourself 'Slyde' is just fine…?" muttered Whirlwind.

"Listen kids," muttered Gypsy Moth. "Why don't you to go iron out your issues, and then come back when you're ready? Or I might just shut you up myself…"

Slyde took a combat position. "You think you're ready for the Master of Friction. Then bring it on…"

"BOTH OF YOU MORONS SHUT UP NOW!" screamed the muscular woman suddenly. She coughed, and began again in a calm, quiet voice. "This is getting really annoying. I think everyone would prefer it if you kept quiet."

Gypsy Moth glared at her. "And why should we listen to you, 'Chesty'?"

"Heh. Good one," chuckled Slyde.

In reply to those comments, she smashed a large hole into the floor with her bare fist. "Listen, you sexist bastards, there's a reason they call me 'Man-Killer'. So watch it, or I'll rip you new ones!" She turned to Gypsy Moth. "Especially you! You remind me of someone I knew…"

"Who's that?" said Gypsy Moth, calmly.

"A guy I'm planning to rip the limbs off of," said Man-Killer.

Gypsy Moth, to his credit, did not immediately back down. "Lady, I can already see that I will hate you, and want to destroy you, even more then those two over there, so if you want to see how vicious I can be, try me."

"Oh, you're just begging for this," snarled Man-Killer.

Jigen stood up. "All right, everyone, cool down…"

Gypsy Moth glared at him. "Why should we listen to you? I don't recall you being in charge."

"First, because I'm the Living Laser." He stared at the group calmly. "I know every damn one of you has heard of me, and what I can do." He smiled. "Trust me—it's all true." The others stared at him, visibly nervous. "The second reason," he continued, "is that while I'm not in charge, I'm pretty sure our employer wouldn't like this behavior."

"And you'd be right," said a cheerful voice behind the group.

Jigen, as he turned to look at the voice's owner, stifled the internal voice saying that a person couldn't move that quietly—he knew from experience they could. Instead, he tried to figure out what made the man so… impressive. It wasn't his height—that seemed about average. It wasn't his costume even though that was quite good in a minimalist sort of way; a red cowl and cloak that concealed most of the owner's body. Rather it was the sense of poise and confidence he gave off. Jigen had know plenty of people who had one or the other, but none who had both to this extent. The man stepped forward. "Greetings, and salutations. I'm the Crimson Cowl." He glanced around, a slight hint of his eyes glimmering in the shadows of his cloak. "I suppose you're wondering why I called you all here…"

"To commit a crime?" asked Whirlwind innocently.

The Crimson Cowl glanced at 'her' severely for a moment, causing the young supervillain to gulp, then began to laugh. "Yes," he said, chuckling. "That's it exactly. To commit a crime." Shaking his head in amusement, he took a seat at the table, and folded his hands. "Machinesmith, go inform Mr. Hyde and the Grey Gargoyle that the meeting's about to begin…"

Machinesmith nodded. "Immediately, sir," she said in a tone that dashed whatever hopes Jigen was forming regarding her.

"That won't be necessary," said a deadpan voice. Everyone in the room glanced at the entrance.

A young man stood there, with disheveled brown hair, clad in a white Pierot costume, white clown make-up covering the left side of his face. "Good evening," he said in a dull monotone. "I'm here to join this group."

The Crimson Cowl inclined his head back, somewhat threateningly. "And who are you, that I would want you to join, especially in light of the fact that I have a full roster?"

"I have no name, only aliases," replied the young man in that calm, dead tone. "I was going by the Clown, but that name's grown rather tiresome, so now I'm going by 'Oddball'."

Gypsy Moth stared at him in obvious distaste. "Oddball?"

The young man shrugged. "It's not much, but it's all I have."

The Crimson Cowl stared at him, remaining utterly motionless. "And what do you do, Monsieur Oddball?"

Oddball gave a low bow. "I juggle." He pulled out a group of brightly colored balls, and began to do just that. "I juggle very well." He smiled, raised his left leg, and began to pass the spheres under it, catching them easily on the other side.

"And why do I need a juggler?" said the Crimson Cowl, rather impatiently.

Oddball was now forming a figure eight in the air. "To make you laugh," he replied, in his continuous drone. "I assure you, I'm up to the job." The first set of balls vanished in his sleeves, to be replaced suddenly by new ones. "I'm clever." 'E' '' 'M' 'C2' spelled out the orbs before following the first set into the confines of the juggler's outfit. Light bulbs took their place. "I'm inventive." The light bulbs began to shine.

"Cool!" cried Whirlwind.

Oddball gave a silent bow and tossed one to the young gender ambivalent supervillain, who giggled merrily. The rest of the light bulbs went the way of the earlier spheres. "And I'm deadly," finished Oddball, producing two large, oddly shaped globes which after a few passes, he tossed down on the table in front of the Cowl.

They were the heads of Duval and Hyde.

Whirlwind whimpered, and tossed 'her' light bulb away.

Oddball bowed.

There was dead silence for a long time.

Finally, the Crimson Cowl stood up and spoke. "Tell me, my poor, perfidious Pagliacci, what does this prove?"

"First my skill," said Oddball, calmly. "Second, that you have two vacancies." He gave a slight bow. "If you must know, I did you a favor. Calvin Zabo was a psychopathic monstrosity that turned on his allies more often than not."

"And Grey Gargoyle?" asked the Crimson Cowl.

"He was French," answered Oddball matter-of-factly.

The Crimson Cowl considered that for a moment, then glanced at Oddball sympathetically. "Listen, juggler, you have to understand my position. You kill two of my men—then you ask to join my organization." He spread his arms imploringly. "You do see I am in a quandary."

Oddball nodded. "You're facing two options in dealing with me. You can hire me—you're short two members, and I'm clearly quite good. Or you can kill me—I'm the reason you're short two members, and you don't know if you can trust me…"

The Crimson Cowl was staring at him, intrigued. "And what would you do?"

"I'd kill me," said Oddball, calmly. "Trust is a great deal rarer than skill."

The Crimson Cowl continued to stare for a while—and then for the second time that night, began to laugh. " 'Trust is—" He shook his head. "How very true." He gestured to a seat. "Sit. The Masters of Evil are honored by your presence." He began to pace around the table. "After all, you did say you'd make me laugh." The Crimson Cowl turned quickly. "I like people who keep their promises."

Gypsy Moth frowned and stared at the juggler. "You expect us to work with this—street performer who just killed two of our associates?"

"Yes," replied the Crimson Cowl. "Now, does that answer your question, or do I have to draw a diagram?"

"But—I mean…" Man-Killer blinked. "Look, I didn't like the guys, but—they were us." She glanced around the table, anxiously.

"The first thing you learn in this business," said Jigen suddenly, "is that there is no 'us'." He glanced over the table authoritatively. "There are partnerships, and they get dissolved. That's it."

"Admirably spoken Laser," said the Crimson Cowl.

Jigen regarded him coldly. "So what's the plan? You did say you were going to tell us before we—were distracted."

"Of course." The Crimson Cowl turned. "Machinesmith—start the display." The wall behind him lit up with building schematics. "Now then, it's a bit risky, but so are all great endeavors…"

-----

Hikaru was halfway through his cheesecake when Kagome coughed. Hikaru glanced at her. He had a sneaking suspicion what was coming next. Kagome smiled. "So, Doctor, about the te—"

Hikaru quietly dropped his fork. Suspicion confirmed. "For the last time, Kagome, we are not a team, and we do not need a name."

"We are too a team!" said Kagome passionately. "I mean—this is superheroic law! Surely you've read enough manga to—"

"Actually, I don't read manga at all," said Hikaru, picking up his fork again. "I'm usually too busy with literature."

"You don't read manga?" said Kagome in the shocked tones that are usually reserved for people confessing to multiple axe murders. "B-but everyone reads manga! It is our national treasure! Can you name anything that screams Japan like 'manga'?"

Hikaru tapped his fork idly. "Let's see—brush painting. Haiku. Noh and Kabuki drama. Katanas. Sushi. Samurai movies…"

Kagome gave a frustrated sigh. "All right, I get your point…"

"Shintoism. Zen Buddhism. Mishima novels. Hordes of salarymen. Karaoke. Attempting to seize large portions of Asia." He shrugged. "Of course it's been a while since that last one, but I say just give it time. Cosplaying. Sumo wrestling. A belief in quack medicine…."

Kagome waved her hand in desperation. "All right! All right! Forget that! The point is there are rules of superheroic teamings. Two is a duo, or partnership, three is a team-up, and four or more is a team." She waved her finger in a disciplinary manner. "These things are unalterable laws."

Hikaru, unconcerned with Kagome's existential crisis, was casually restarting his cheesecake. "Is now a good time to mention that I'm an anarchist…?"

Kagome whimpered. "Could you at least listen to my idea for a name? Please?"

Hikaru stared at her. "If I do, will you let me eat my cheesecake in peace?"

"Umm, sure," said Kagome. She composed herself, coughed, then glanced at Hikaru. "Are you ready?"

"I wait with bated breath."

"Huh?"

Hikaru rubbed his temples. "Yes, I'm ready."

"Okay!" A look of manic glee spread over Kagome's face. "It will just knock you out—it's so perfect!" She took a deep breath. "We are… THE ALL-WINNERS' SQUAD!"

Hikaru stared at her, cynicism and disbelief making a noble attempt not to show on his features. "Well?" asked Kagome, eagerly. "What do you think?"

"Kagome," Hikaru began awkwardly, "understand that I've developed a certain respect for… your abilities at… superheroing, and… so forth, and so understand that I mean this in the best possible way, without any real insult intended…" He took a deep breath. "Absolutely not."

"B-but it's—upbeat!" said Kagome amazed. "It's catchy!"

"Precisely," seethed Hikaru. He shook his head. "It sounds like something that sells toothpaste."

Kagome pouted. "Well, let's see you do better."

"Why?" asked Hikaru, restarting his cheesecake. "I'm opposed to the whole 'team/name' paradigm." Kagome glanced away, as Hikaru downed a couple more pieces. Finally, he glanced at the others. "That said, there is another bit of business for us to discuss." He put down his fork, and crossed his hands on the table in front of him. "Our dining expenses."

Kagome, Inu-Yasha and Miroku all started at that. "Dining—expenses…" said Miroku uncomfortably.

"We've eaten out five times in the last three days, and every damn time I've wound up footing the bill. Well, the Gosunkugi gravy train is making its last stop, and…"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" came the maniacal laughter. "Behold commoners! You are honored to witness the phoenix-like rebirth of Tokyo's greatest criminal! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Hikaru collapsed forward, and began to rub his forehead. "Kagome—Inu-Yasha—please tell me—did a young man, dressed in purple spandex, with red gloves and boots, holding a large clunky gun just enter the café?"

"Yep," said Kagome.

"Only thing you missed is this golden belt and—suspender type things…" added Inu-Yasha.

Hikaru wearily turned to face the horror of Tokyo's most… special criminal mastermind, Katsuhiko Jinnai, or as he preferred to be called…

"Pile-on Pete," noted Hikaru, dully. "So we meet again. In exactly the same place…" He began to rub his temples. "You—really have problems with the whole—criminal mastermind thing, don't you?"

"First, that's Pastepot Pete," said Jinnai. "Secondly that is no longer my name."

"But Poopdeck Pete," said Hikaru sadly, "Why mess with such a working formula?"

"That's Pastepot! Pastepot Pete!"

"Umm—Dr. Strange?" asked Kagome. "What can—Pete do?"

"Shoot paste," said Hikaru. "Pasta Pete is not exactly a top-rung supervillain…"

"STOP SLANDERING ME! AND I'M PASTEPOT PETE!"

"Sorry Placemat Pete."

"PASTEPOT PETE!" screamed Jinnai. "CAN YOU JUST—SAY IT RIGHT?"

"Sure. Papaya Pete."

"PASTEPOT!" cried Jinnai. He leveled his paste pistol at Hikaru's head. "Say it properly, damn you, SAY IT!"

"Big Boy Bob," answered Hikaru calmly.

Jinnai blinked miserably. "You're doing this intentionally aren't you?"

Hikaru smiled. "Might be."

Jinnai gave a long, inarticulate howl, then shook his head. "Well, it doesn't matter! I am no longer Pas—who I was! I am now the Trapster!" He gave a satisfied glance in Hikaru's direction.

Hikaru had sat back down and was eating his cheesecake again. "Hey!" yelled Jinnai. "I've just redefined myself as a new source of evil! It's impressive!"

Hikaru glanced at him and shrugged. "Well, I have to say Tripster…"

"Trapster!"

"Troopster…"

"Trapster! It's Trapster!"

"Dropsy."

"TRAPSTER! CAN'T YOU SAY 'TRAPSTER?"

"Nummymuffin-coocol Butter."

Jinnai swallowed a shout, and stared at Hikaru bleakly. "You're doing it again, aren't you? Messing with my head again…"

Hikaru finished a bite of cheesecake and chuckled. "Well, you can be taught."

Jinnai sputtered in rage. "YES, AND THE THINGS I'VE LEARNT SHALL DESTROY YOU! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He pulled a golden cylinder off his newly added belt. "This is my new ultimate weapon—the GLUE GRENADE!"

Hikaru gave him a distracted glance and nodded. "Let me guess—blows up and covers the area in glue."

"A VERY—!"

"—Sticky glue. Right." Hikaru sighed. "So your ultimate weapon is just like your normal weapon, only less accurate, and with a shorter range."

Jinnai fidgeted. "Umm—right." On reflection that did sound wrong…

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Hikaru.

"Oh, just shut up!" cried Jinnai. "I've got other new weapons." He gestured at his boots. "Such as my new GLUE GALOSHES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"You really should cut down on the alliteration," noted Hikaru. "It really detracts from your already negligible menace."

"Ah, but with these, I can climb up walls!" Jinnai pressed down on his heels. "I simply press the built-in button, and the sole of my boots are covered with glue, allowing me to climb up walls like so…" Jinnai tried to take a step forward.

His feet refused to do this, remaining stuck firmly to the floor.

Jinnai stared down in disbelief. "AGAIN? I thought I'd taken care of that!" He began to struggle out of his boots, a difficult proposition as he could barely move his feet.

Hikaru glanced at his companions. "I present to you the MS Windows of supervillains. Each upgrade succeeds only making him slower, less efficient and more annoying."

Jinnai, finally out of his left boot, glanced at him. "Look, I admit my new weaponry is not panning out as expected, but that wasn't the only thing I came up with in prison…"

"You were in prison?" asked Hikaru.

Jinnai glanced around furtively. "Umm—yes."

"That's odd. It's been barely over a week since I beat you."

Jinnai gulped. In actual truth his charges had been reduced down from 'attempted robbery with a deadly weapon' to 'disturbing the peace' when it was pointed out that he wasn't carrying a deadly weapon, and that it couldn't be proved he was trying to rob someone. What's more, the police commissioner had been willing to drop even those negligible charges if Jinnai promised to mow his lawn on Tuesdays.

Somehow, Jinnai didn't think that would help his reputation as a menacing force of evil. "Well, I was in prison!" he stated angrily. "And I escaped! And—"

A blonde stuck her head in the café. "Hey, Lord Trapster! Can we come in now? Lord Wizard is getting bored, and Medusa-chan seems to be turning blue again, which is never a good sign…"

"In a minute!" snapped Jinnai. "I'm still setting you guys up."

The blonde nodded. "Right." She ducked back out.

Jinnai turned back to the rest of the café patrons. "I have gained allies! Three of the worst criminal geniuses the world has ever seen!"

"Seems fitting," noted Hikaru. "Wouldn't want you to be out of your league…"

"Shut up!" said Jinnai. "Alone we are formidable—together we are unbeatable! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes, prepare to meet your doom, Dr. Strange—" Jinnai glanced over the rest of group as if seeing them for the first time. "—and associates, in the form of my deadly ALLIES—" He gestured to the door.

There was a rather long interval of nothing happening.

Jinnai walked over to the door and opened it. "Guys! I just set you up!"

"Oh!" came the blonde's reply. "I thought you still were doing it…"

"No," corrected Jinnai. "I'd just gotten to the part where you guys are supposed to burst through the door, cackling evilly."

"Ooh, gotchya!"

"So we're on the same wavelength here?"

"Yep."

"Great. So, I'll do that next bit again, and you come in. Am I understood?"

"Loud and clear, yo!"

"Wonderful." Jinnai stepped back, and closed the door. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes, prepare to meet your doom Dr. Strange and associates, in the form of my deadly ALLIES—" He gestured to the door again.

There was another rather long interval of nothing happening.

Jinnai walked to the door, and opened it. "I thought we were clear on this!"

The blonde ducked her head back in. "Sorry. My little brain cells got confused…"

"Look, how about you just come in, and we act like you came in on cue?" asked Jinnai desperately.

The blonde ducked back out. There was the sound of a whispered discussion, followed by the blonde poking her head back in. "Yeah, that's cool." She walked in followed by two more individuals. Seen in full, the blonde was revealed to be wearing a green bodysuit with a lightning bolt on it. The other two members of Jinnai gang of supervillains were a young woman with long black hair, and a rather pale complexion, wearing a tight red outfit, and a man in his late twenties with pale white hair, wearing heavy white robes, and pince nez sunglasses. They walked casually into the café and glanced around. "Umm, Lord Trapster?" asked the blonde. "These people don't seem to be cowering in terror."

"That's because we aren't laughing maniacally," said Jinnai.

"Oh, right," said the blonde. The pair began to laugh in unison.

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Tremble, yes, tremble before our might!" declared Jinnai.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" laughed the blonde. "Like the big fish in the koi pond, it will devour you—assuming you to be a smaller fish in the pond, which is the only way the analogy makes sense, because even very big koi don't eat people, believe me, I've tried to make them, and it didn't—"

Jinnai shook his head at her pointedly. "I think they get the point."

"Oh, right." She glanced at him, uncertain. "Do we do the introduction thing now?"

Jinnai nodded. "It seems appropriate."

"All right!" She immediately struck a dramatic pose. "Prepare to be amazed, ignorant masses by…!"

"Umm, senior…" whispered the brunette in a delicate voice. "Medusa does not wish to be a burden, but she is feeling slightly faint, and thus perhaps should go first…"

"Ahh, Medusa, I—" began the blonde. She turned to the apparent 'Medusa'. "Medusa-chan! You're bleeding!"

Medusa wiped a thin stream of blood away from the corner of her mouth. "It is nothing senior. -coughcoughcough- Just a slight case -coughcoughcough- of internal hemorrhaging." With that sentence out of the way, Medusa saw fit to give into the urge to cough some more.

"Umm, maybe you should go first…" said the blonde taking a step back.

"Thank you, senior. You are so thoughtful." Medusa stepped forward, and smiled gently at the café patrons. "Good day, people. I am Madame Medusa. With my powers of -coughcoughcough- follicle manipulation, I will take great pleasure in destroying your lives, and ruining all that you possess," she said sweetly. "Do not hope to—" At that moment she had a coughing fit of such magnitude that she began to lose balance. Jinnai and the blonde rushed to her side, and held her up. "Thank you senior—Lord Trapster—Medusa is honored that you so value her health…"

"Would you just finish your spiel?" implored Jinnai.

"Sorry, sir." She weakly shook her head. "I will continue. Do not hope for mercy at my hands—I possess—I possess—" With that she gave a gasp and fainted.

Jinnai and the blonde carried her over to a chair, and sat her down.

"Follicle manipulation?" said Miroku, puzzled.

"She can physically control her hair," stated Jinnai, fanning air towards the unconscious Medusa. "It's more useful than it sounds."

"Right! Medusa-chan is one tough honey!" shouted the blonde. "At least, when she isn't passing out due to exhaustion, and her various ailments, and well, I'm not sure, but I suspect drugs are involved. The thing is her hair is so strong, you could bungee jump with it, though you probably wouldn't want to do that, in fact you guys really don't see like the bungee type, which I totally understand, because hurtling towards the ground never struck me as all that fun, the few times I did it, though I suppose if you like it, there's no accounting for taste…"

Jinnai glanced at her. "It's your turn."

"Whuh?" she exclaimed, startled. "Oh, right. Right on!" She turned to the crowd, an electric discharge pulsing from her. "Greetings ignorant masses! I'm the blonde bombshell with a shocking personality—sorry about the puns, they were Lord Trapster's idea, and I think they're a little silly—"

"Finish it up," said Jinnai sourly.

"Electra—no that's Greek—Exceltro—not that's not it—Electrocel—no, no, no…"

"Excel?" said Jinnai in a tired voice.

"Yes, Lord Trapster?"

"Just stick to your old codename."

"Oh. Okay. EXCEL!" She shot a victory sign at the patrons. "I've got an electric charge, and I'm superfast and hyper, though Lord Wizard doesn't think that's a super power, but Lord Trapster thinks it is, and I can control electricity, and I can do this!" She picked up a spoon, blew on it, then stuck it on her nose. "See!" she said, pointing at the hanging spoon. "Pretty damn good, ain't I?"

Jinnai seemed to be wincing. "That's—very impressive Excel…"

Excel glanced at the last member of the motley army of evil. "Umm, I guess, it's Lord Wizard's turn next…"

Jinnai glared at her. "Oh, I notice you get his new codename perfect!"

"Well, that's 'cause he tortures me hideously when I get it wrong!" replied Excel. She snapped her fingers. "That's IT! You could torture me! Then I'd be sure to remember it…" She grabbed Jinnai enthusiastically by the shoulders. "You could tie me up and spank me repeatedly! That should do the trick!"

Jinnai fidgeted awkwardly. "I'll, umm, keep that in mind…" His head turned as quickly as possible. "Wizard! Your turn!"

The man in the white robes seemed to rouse himself, as if from a deep slumber. "My what…?" he asked sleepily.

"Your turn to introduce yourself," said Jinnai, as Excel clung to his right side.

"Oh, of course," said the Wizard in dulcet, tired tones. "Greetings ignorant masses—"

Excel looked at Jinnai imploringly. "Come on! Just a light spanking! That's all it would take!"

The Wizard turned to Jinnai suddenly. "What are you two talking about?"

Jinnai winced again. "It's really nothing important…"

"Right, I'm trying to convince Lord Trapster to torture me," said Excel casually.

The Wizard's eyes tightened in annoyance. "Well, in that case, don't let me interrupt what is no doubt an important and edifying discussion."

Jinnai turned to him desperately. "No! You have to introduce yourself! Everyone must know who we are! Otherwise this whole thing falls apart!"

"Right!" cried Excel. "Don't deny us your precious words, Lord Wizard! They are the life-giving water that will keep us from withering like those plants your mother sends you that you put on your windowsill, then forget for a couple months, so that later you've got this little dried out husk sitting there…"

Jinnai nodded. "What she said…"

The Wizard gave a lofty smile. "Well, if you put that way, then how can I refuse." He turned back to the crowd. "Greetings, ignorant masses! I, the Wizard, have decided to stem the tide of corruption and evil by conquering you and ruling your pathetic lives. Prepare yourself for the harsh hand of my justice."

All this was said in the tone of a man reading a farm report on television at 3 AM.

Jinnai sighed. "Can't you just—gloat, or rant a little?"

The Wizard sat down, as if the effort he'd just expended had exhausted him. "I prefer to handle my supervillainy at my own pace, refusing to let the outside world dictate my actions."

Jinnai rolled his eyes. "Of course." He turned back to the crowded restaurant. "So, are you ready to face the fury of—THE FRIGHTFUL FOUR?" He threw back his head, manically. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

It took him a moment to realize that most of the café had shifted over to ignoring the self-proclaimed world-conquerors.

Most of them. "Oh, wow!" said Kagome, watching them enrapt. "You mean like the Fantastic Four! The superhero group!"

"What?" screamed Jinnai.

Kagome took out a somewhat bent magazine. "They're Tokyo's latest superheroes! Mr. Fantastic! Invisible Girl! The Human Torch! And the Thing! Dedicated to protecting Japan from evil-doers the—"

Jinnai yanked the magazine from Kagome's hand. "Oh, come on! I just get a team together on the four motif, and it's already—" He stared at the magazine, then screamed. "I don't believe it! That bastard Mizuhara has done it again! No sooner do I create a team of four supervillains to conquer the world, then he rips me off, and does the same thing!"

"But—the Fantastic Four are superheroes," said Kagome. "They don't want to rule the world!"

"AHHA!" exclaimed Jinnai. "That's just what Mizuhara wants you to think! In reality, he's planning to conquer the world, just to spite me!"

"That's right!" proclaimed Excel. "His wily deceptions know no bounds! Nor does his evil! Why, my entire life, I've wondered who was causing disasters around me, causing my stuff to disappear, and setting places I was in on fire! And shortly after I met Lord Trapster landscaping—"

"In prison," added Jinnai hurriedly.

"He revealed to me that it was Makoto Mizuhara who had haunted my life like a malignant specter the entire time!" Excel glanced around confidently. "And what proves his evil is that I had never heard of him, or even suspected his existence the entire time—and yet he persecutes me all the same!"

Hikaru, his cheesecake finished, set down his fork. "Check please!"

Jinnai turned to the Wizard. "We must change plans immediately. Mizuhara and his band of ruffians should be dealt with!"

"As I recall, 'Operation: Alpha' was your brainchild," said the Wizard airily, as the waitress delivered his cup of tea.

"True, and it pains me to abandon it on the literal doorstep of success," said Jinnai in clipped tones. "But now is the time for action! I propose we put 'Operation: Beta' into effect."

The Wizard seemed somewhat confused. "I didn't know we had an 'Operation: Beta'…"

"We do now!" said Jinnai. "Destroy the Fantastic Four."

The Wizard shook his head. "As leader of this group, I find such a change in plans unmerited. As you originally pointed out, the strength of 'Operation: Alpha' was that no one expected you to strike so quickly after the last time. To give it up is to risk losing the element of surprise."

"But as tactical commander, I feel it is in our best interest to defeat Mizuhara and the rest!"

"And as supreme leader, I say no, and my decisions outweigh yours."

"But—sir—if my plans are dismissed out of hand, I cannot command effectively…"

"Surely you can't expect me to grant you carte blanche?" asked the Wizard.

"If I may speak," said Medusa sweetly, "I suggest that we take this opportunity to iron out our command structure." She smiled benignly, then fell face forward into the table.

"Good idea!" said Jinnai, while the Wizard nodded in agreement. "Waitress, some coffee! This might take awhile."

"No shoes, no service," replied the waitress tersely.

"Oh, son of a—" He glanced at the Wizard. "Hand me that solvent, eh?"

The Wizard tossed Jinnai a small vial that he began to administer to the still firmly stuck boots. "Now, clearly you see," began the Wizard, " your gratitude for the use of my equipment, and my advanced underground base—"

"It's a sewer, Wizard," said Jinnai in frustration. "Putting in a chair, some curtains, and a trap door does not make it an advanced underground base…"

"And here's your tip," said Hikaru, quietly annoyed at having to foot the bill again. He turned to the others. "Let's go, people…"

"But shouldn't we thwart this evil?" asked Kagome.

Hikaru glanced back at the Frightful Four.

"Now, if we were the Frightful Five, we would have greater name recognition…" began Excel.

"For the last time, Excel, the dog isn't joining!" shouted Jinnai. "I don't care if you have made battle armor for it!"

"But I just know my little Menchi wants to serve the cause in ways besides being our emergency food supply!"

Hikaru turned back to the door. "This time, Kagome, I think evil has foiled itself."

-----

Jigen lit his pipe, casually, and glanced over his fellows, seated out in the Cowl's lair's impromptu smoking room. "Well, I have to admit—the guy's made one hell of a plan."

Gypsy Moth fidgeted. "It seems—risky…"

"But well thought out," noted Oddball, twirling two billiards between his fingers. "Back in the Circus, the Ringmaster sent us out on jobs that were much worse…"

Jigen glanced at him, surprised. "You were in the Circus of Crime?"

Oddball gave a tired nod. "For some time. Before that I was a member of the Death Throws."

"No kidding," said Jigen. The Death Throws' reputation as assassins was legendary—as vaunted in some circles as such figures as Duke Gogol, the Taskmaster, Noir, and the Hand's elite Upper Circle. And their deeds were as dark as any of them. "So, why'd you leave them?"

"Nobody ever left the Death Throws," answered Oddball. "The Death Throws just left the world." He began to idly toss the billiard balls. "A run in with—a pair of rivals in France left most of the group—permanently unemployed, so I was forced to join the Circus of Crime to stay solvent." He leaned back slightly, catching the balls in one hand. "A shame, in a way. They were the closest thing I ever had to a family."

"You're an orphan?" asked Whirlwind, looking concerned.

Oddball shrugged. "So far as I can tell. In my native Latveria, our former ruler, thelate Prince Ruldolpho used to hold periodic purges to make sure the people remained loyal to him. It was always rather easy for people to get lost during them…"

Gypsy Moth snorted. "How very touching!"

Oddball glanced at him, sternly. "I neither asked for, or desire your sympathy…"

"Good, because you aren't going to get—"

Gypsy Moth sentence became a yelp as a billiard ball came within inches of smacking him in the face. He glared at Oddball, who calmly stepped over and picked up the ball. "Sorry. Hand must have slipped."

Gypsy Moth grumbled to himself. Slyde glanced at Oddball. "I've heard of the Circus of Crime. Weren't you all arrested a while back?"

Oddball stared back at her. "As I said, the Ringmaster used to send me out on jobs that were much worse. And in this business, we all get arrested eventually. It's convictions you have to worry about."

Gypsy Moth glared at the juggler. "I don't get arrested. And that is the end of the story."

Oddball stared back at him levelly. "Of course it is. That's why you're here with a collection of criminals. Because you don't get arrested."

Gypsy Moth frowned severely at that. Slyde snorted. "Pathetic. Whirlwind and I are almost ashamed to be associated with you…"

Whirlwind glanced at 'her' sister. "Umm, sis—I really don't think it's a good idea too…"

Slyde slapped the back of Whirwind's head. "I seem to recall that I'm the one that does the thinking around here."

"Um, right," said Whirlwind. "Sorry about that."

Gypsy Moth laughed bitterly. "You two are really starting to annoy me more than the street performer, actually…"

Jigen sighed. "Look—we're obviously driving each other crazy here. Why don't we find something to talk about?"

"Like what?" spat out Gypsy Moth. "The Tokyo Orchestra's latest production? This season's latest hit movie? Our favorite novels?" He gestured dismissively. "There's a definite lack of common interest here…"

"We're all criminals," said Jigen calmly. "Let's talk about that."

Man-Killer glanced at him surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Yes," muttered Gypsy Moth. "I'm wondering too. Do you want to compare safe-cracking methods?"

Jigen put out his pipe. "No. Let's do what Oddball here did. Let's talk about ourselves. What got us into crime. What our powers are." He shrugged. "Things like that."

"Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Gypsy Moth. "I'm not revealing my identity to you hoodlums…"

"Glad to know your opinion of us," said Oddball. "And I have to say the Laser's right. In partnerships like this, it's better to know who you're associates are. A certain level of camaraderie is necessary to work together as a group."

Jigen nodded. "Besides, we're going to see you committing felonies. If we're arrested, the fact that we don't know your name won't save you…"

Gypsy Moth fidgeted and turned away. "Well, I'm not going first, and I'm not telling anyone my name…"

Jigen gave a distracted nod. "You don't have to." He waved his hand. "I'm Daisuke Jigen. My family's long worked for the syndicates, and I have sought to use my engineering genius to become one of the leading contract men in the business. And I did. I've since worked for such diverse talent as Batroc, Gallactor, and Lupin the Third. End of the story."

Gypsy Moth stared at him. "That wasn't very complicated."

"I'm a simple man," said Jigen. "Not everyone in this business is a twisted sociopath who's turned to crime to seek some impossible goal."

"Well, that sounds like my turn," stated Man-Killer. "I'm actually glad to tell my tale—it needs to be told. People should know the abuse that brought me to my present state…" She shut her eyes. "My name is… was Mariko Kojo."

Slyde blinked. "Wh—that can't be right! That would make you the daughter of—"

"The president of one of Japan's leading biochemical concerns. Yes." She flexed an arm, idly. "I was probably the most eligible girl in Japan. I lived a happy and contented existence, with my stuffed animals, and my cheerleading, and my society parties…" A slightly dazed smile came to her face. "And it was at one of them that I met the man of my dreams—Tatewake Kunou." Her eyelashes fluttered. "Heir to Kunou Industries, and the most eligible bachelor in Japan. Our love was predestined. Taki was so debonair, and handsome, he simply swept me off my feet. Oh, I heard some people saying he was a playboy, and a rake, and a ne'er-do-well, but I knew that wasn't true, that the love of a good woman would clear up the problems in his life. I approached him, and asked him out for a date. It went perfectly. I was now certain that I had met the man I would marry. Afterwards, he promised to call me."

Man-Killer stopped here, her fists clenching and a scowl appearing on her face. "I waited a week. No response. Finally, I called him…" Her teeth began to grind. "THE BASTARD HAD GONE MISSING! To avoid another date with me, he disappeared!" She began to hyperventilate. "So naturally, I did the only… logical thing—DEDICATED MY LIFE TO VENGEANCE! I have sworn revenge on Taki, and all his gender! All men shall suffer a thousand agonies AT MY HANDS!" She glanced around at the predominantly male gathering. "Present company excluded of course."

"Ah," said Jigen. "Of course."

Whirlwind coughed. "You know—I'm only technically a male. In every other aspect, I am a girl. Just so you know."

Oddball glanced at her. "So—how'd you achieve your—physique?"

Man-Killer smiled. "Daddy's company was working on some experimental super-soldier serum—some old military program that just didn't pan out. They were trying to fix what went wrong the first time. I just helped myself to a rejected batch scheduled for destruction."

Jigen blinked. "Was that—wise? What about—side effects?"

"Oh don't be silly!" she laughed. "I was careful! The only side effect noted from the batch I took was a tendency for aggravated psychotic behavior, and I haven't had any problems with that…" Suddenly, she snarled and leapt at Slyde, lifting the smaller girl by the throat. "WERE YOU STARING AT ME? I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE STARE AT ME!"

Slyde shook her head desperately. "Of course not!"

Man-Killer giggled. "Oh. Well, sorry about that," she said, setting Slyde down. "Anyway, the whole vengeance thing's proved kind of difficult—it turns out there really isn't a lot of money in revenge—and I was sort of at split ends, when I discovered something amazing—people will pay you to beat other people up!" She laughed. "It's remarkable! I mean—who'd a thought you could make money doing what you love!"

The others glanced at her awkwardly, and took a few slight steps away. Slyde stepped forward, and patted her brother on the shoulder. "Perhaps I should relate our story. It is, like Miss Man-Killer's story, a tale of egregious wrongs forcing people into a life of crime…"

Gypsy Moth glared at him. "She wasn't forced! By her own admission she chose to become a criminal in order to pursue revenge!"

"Silence!" bellowed Slyde. "My tale starts now!" She glanced around the room dramatically. "Whirlwind and I were not always master criminals. Once we were the Respighi Sisters, World Class Athletes!"

Oddball nodded. "That explains the outfits…"

Slyde seemed to be off in her own little world. "Undefeated! Masters of the form! The epitome of style and grace! But then—tragedy struck! Our jealous rivals accused us of cheating, and had us unjustly banned from competition."

"But Slyde," said Whirlwind, "we did cheat. I used my mutant ability to spin at remarkable speeds to win at ice skating, and you used your ability to nullify friction to win at races."

"And was it cheating for us to use our god-given abilities to achieve superior results?" stated Slyde.

"Well, yes…" said Man-Killer.

The others nodded. "Seems pretty clean-cut to me," noted Gypsy Moth.

Slyde snorted. "Philistines. That's exactly the attitude that forced us into crime…"

"That and all the money you'd won on bets," muttered Whirlwind

Slyde glanced awkwardly away. "Well, yeah." She coughed. "You know, people can be very unforgiving of illegal sports betting committed by mutants who have used their abilities to make the results certain…"

Whirlwind stared at her resentfully. "And what do you mean 'God-given'? We both know Mom had us genetically engineered to be like this…"

Slyde shook a finger at Whirlwind's face. "Hey, while I admit Mom could be quite obsessive, up to falsifying the gender of one of her children so that that child could win the female ice-skating medal she lost, it still doesn't stand to reason that she would scientifically enhance us to make our victories inevitable."

"So how did we wind up like this?" muttered Whirlwind.

Slyde's eyes glossed over. "I like to call it—a miracle," she said.

Whirlwind glanced over at the others. "I think we're done."

All eyes fell on Gypsy Moth. "No. No way."

The others continued to stare at him.

"Listen," he snarled, "there is nothing to tell about my past, because the time I spent as—a larvae is not part of my life now. Ever since I emerged from my cocoon, the master of textile-based telekinesis, I have had no time for the man I was!" A beatific smile spread over his face. "He is dead—DEAD! All that is left—is the Gypsy Moth! My past does not encumber me."

"Except for being a Tokyo University Graduate," noted Oddball. "You mention that an awful lot…"

"Are any of you Tokyo University Graduates?" asked Gypsy Moth snippily. He waited for a moment. "No? Well, then I've made my point…"

" 'Textile-based telekinetics'?" asked Man-Killer, puzzled.

"I can move fabrics with my mind," stated Gypsy Moth calmly.

Man-Killer stared at him for a second, and then burst into laughter. "Oh—oh, man—that's—you—wow, I was actually a little afraid of you—"

Gypsy Moth stared at her forcefully.

Suddenly, Man-Killer was pulled off her feet as her legs shot up off the floor, yanked away against her will. She screamed—but was cut off as her choker began to constrict against her throat, fulfilling its name.

"Yes," said Gypsy Moth, "fabrics. Delicate. Omnipresent fabrics. Like the Moth that is my namesake, I spin my silk into things I can use." He began to levitate over Man-Killer's fallen form. "Also I fly. And though I freely admit I lack the raw power of gross telekinesis, I more than make up for it with finesse." The phantom grip on her choker tightened. "Am I understood?"

Man-Killer gave a desperate nod. "Good," chuckled Gypsy Moth. The choker loosened. "Try to remember that." He fluttered down to the ground a short distance away, grinning.

Jigen frowned. He'd done what he'd set out to—he now knew more about his partners—more than what they thought they had revealed. And what he knew worried him. What did the Crimson Cowl intend by bringing in so many difficult—indeed marginally (and that might be underestimating it) psychotic criminals together?

Somehow, Jigen got the impression that the Cowl actually knew the answer to that one, and that was not a comforting thought.

-----

Hikaru walked on, hands in his pockets, face turned to the ground. Kagome and Inu-Yasha walked a short distance behind him.

Miroku was walking at a more sizable distance, having turned into a local adult novelty store.

Finally, Hikaru glanced at a newspaper, and sighed. Kagome blinked. "Urr—is something wrong, Doctor Strange…?"

"Oh, it's nothing," he stated. "Just this latest headline—made me think about things."

Kagome glanced at the newspaper. The headline read, 'FANTASTIC FOUR SAVE GRATEFUL CITY, ONCE AGAIN'. "Wow," she said. "They really do a good job." She smiled at Hikaru. "I mean, they've been operating for—a week, maybe?"

Hikaru's eyes narrowed. "And how long have we been doing this?"

Kagome thought that over. "About two weeks…"

Hikaru nodded, a grim smile on his face. "And how many times have we saved this city from utter destruction…?"

Kagome bit her lip in thought. "Well, there was the elder god—and the chaos demons—and the Soul-devourers—and Sons of Satannish…"

Hikaru waved his hand. "Let's just say, an awful lot." He glanced at the paper again. "And how many times have we warranted a headline…?"

Kagome blinked. "Umm, well—we did rank a special editorial in the Bugle…"

Hikaru stared at her. "I don't think being called 'the vilest threat to our fair nation since the Enola Gay left the runway' is a fair appraisal of our work…" Hikaru wandered off, groaning. "We're a joke. Nonentities! And why? Because of the threats we face! While the Fantastic Four have taken on a massive invasion from under the Earth, a devious attempt by strange illusion-wielding aliens, and several mad scientists—ONE WITH SUPER MONKEYS, I MIGHT ADD—we have been fighting the special education version of supervillains. I mean look at that bunch back there—a man who's nearly catatonic, a woman who will soon be catatonic, a woman who might as well be catatonic, and a man whose laugh makes you wish that you were catatonic! That is our rogue's gallery! The people who irritate you in line for the movies! My god! What villainy!"

Kagome gulped slightly at the frantic Hikaru. "We—we've done a real good job taking care of demons, and evil invaders from unholy planes…"

"Oh, yes!" shouted Hikaru. "The never-ending waves of the UNPRONOUNCABLE ONES!" Hikaru laughed slightly. "You know I think people have a hard time caring about things they don't even know exist, and couldn't even say if they did!" Hikaru glanced up at the stars. "All I'm asking is just once—ONCE—to face an opponent who's smarter than a piece of dryer lint! I mean, do I have some sign on my back that says, 'supervillainous losers attack here'?"

At that moment, a large fat man wearing a walrus costume started walking down the street menacingly. "Fear me Tokyo! Fear—the Walrus! Goo goo g'joob!"

Hikaru gave a mighty scream that stopped even the Walrus in his tracks, and then turned away, and pointed at Kagome and Inu-Yasha. "You are taking care of this guy! Not me! I refuse to dignify this weirdo with my presence! Walruses are not villainous! Hell, they aren't even scary!"

Hikaru stormed off.

Miroku walked past him holding a brown paper bag. "Hello everyone—sorry for the delay." He glanced at Inu-Yasha and Kagome cheerfully. "So, what did I miss?"

-----

"So—large-breasted gaijin women, eh?" asked one guard.

"That's right. Every one of them trained in the arts of occidental love…" answered his friend.

"Sounds like one hell of a brothel…"

They were stationed outside a building that looked much like any other building. Of course, if you were to attack this building, it would have wound up feeling more like a small fortress, but just walking by it on the street, you'd never even notice it.

Gypsy Moth (who out of costume wasa surprisingly normal—even handsome looking—man) was noticing it however, as the Crimson Cowl had instructed him to. More exactly, he was noticing it with high-level spy gear that he was using to pick up the conversations of the guards. He glanced at his partners. "Security seems… lax."

"I was wondering about that," noted Man-Killer. "But more—I was wondering why you have so much spy equipment…"

Gypsy Moth made a sour face as if he'd swallowed something distasteful. "The fact that I'm prepared surprises you…?"

Man-Killer shrugged. "Just seems voyeuristic is all…"

Jigen sighed and readied his laser gauntlet.

Gypsy Moth snarled. "Listen, I will not be judged by you…"

Man-Killer grabbed him by the shoulders. "And I say you will!" She began to throttle him. "Understood?" She started chuckling. "Doesn't feel good, does it? Choking? Not good at all…" Gypsy Moth sputtered, desperately trying to breathe. "What's a matter? Can't use your fancy mental powers, can you? Not so powerful when you're facing a little direct violence." She laughed. "I like you better this way. Maybe I'll make it permanent…"

"That's enough," said Jigen, leveling his gauntlet at the pair. "Let him go. And you—don't do anything."

Man-Killer dropped Gypsy Moth. "Men!" she spat out disgustedly.

Gypsy Moth took a couple of deep breaths, and glared at her. "You had better watch your back you brainless slab of meat, because the next chance I get—"

"Trust me, the same goes for me—" muttered Man-Killer.

"Stop it," stated Jigen forcefully. "You each got your shot in, and now it ends. Understood? Because I'm not going to have two partners gunning at each other. Best case scenario is I lose a partner—worst case, I get caught in the crossfire." Jigen brought out his pipe and lit it. "Pretty much a lose-lose situation from my point of view."

Man-Killer nodded. "Umm, right." She tittered nervously. "Sorry about that. I just have this thing about hating men with an obsessive passion." She smiled awkwardly.

Gypsy Moth spat out a little blood and glared at Jigen. "Why should I listen to a fossil like you?"

Jigen smiled calmly. "Because I'm old enough to be called a fossil. Not many people in this business can say that." Gypsy Moth nodded, but continued to eye the older man warily. Jigen puffed happily on his pipe. "So—what do you two think about the Cowl?"

The pair blinked. "He seems… smart," said Man-Killer.

"Yes quite capable," added Gypsy Moth, cautiously.

"True," said Jigen evenly. "But I don't trust him."

Gypsy Moth and Man-Killer stared at him as if expecting him to explode. "Wha-what are you saying?" blurted out Man-Killer.

"I'm saying that I don't trust our employer," replied Jigen. "And you shouldn't either. People as—smart and—capable as the Crimson Cowl tend to be covering angles the rest of us don't even consider."

"Are you suggesting we betray the Cowl?" asked Gypsy Moth suspicious.

"No, just keep your eyes open," said Jigen quietly. "It might be best for all of us."

"Why us?" asked Man-Killer.

"I consider you two the most level-headed of my partners," replied Jigen. That was of course false—Gypsy Moth and Man-Killer were two of the most aberrantly psychotic people he knew, and that was saying a great deal. The actual two most level-headed were Oddball and Machinesmith, neither of which Jigen trusted in the least on this matter. Machinesmith was obviously very much on the Crimson Cowl's side, while Oddball was playing his own game. That left Whirlwind and Slyde as the only alternative to these two, and what with their own sibling rivalry issues, Jigen didn't trust their ability to notice changes in weather, let alone diabolical plots.

It hadn't been a pretty choice, but as Jigen knew, you worked with what you had.

-----

Hikaru walked home from school, briskly, like a very slight breeze that can't wait to be somewhere else, and doesn't particularly care where. Every day he went to school, he counted himself lucky if he escaped all notice. This had been one of those lucky days, and he was hoping for that luck to hold.

"Hi, Hikaru!" came a cheerful voice.

Hikaru winced. Okay. It hadn't held.

Kagome rushed over to him, Inu-Yasha and Miroku in lockstep behind her. "Boy, are we glad to see you!"

Hikaru sighed. "A completely mutual feeling on some level, I'm sure."

Kagome blinked trying to work that sentence out. Hikaru took a deep breath. "So, what brings all of you here? At this very moment? Because we don't have anything to do right now. In fact that was the point of our last meeting…"

"And that's precisely why we're here!" said Kagome brightly.

"That's right," began Miroku. "We, your allies in the fight against darkness, wish to commemorate your heroic effort which has created a lull in what used to be a storm."

Kagome nodded. "You are the shining beacon of heroism that heroically shines the shining ways of heroes, shingingly!"

Hikaru stared at her a moment, quietely. "Umm—right. Thank you."

"And thus," stated Miroku in ringing tones, "we wish to present you with the following gift…"

Hikaru prepared himself for something involving bright colors and decoder rings.

Inu-Yasha pulled out a large tin cylinder, and handed it to Hikaru. "Ta-da…" he muttered grimly.

Hikaru blinked. "A pound… of coffee."

Kagome nodded. "We thought you might like it…"

"What're ya talkin' about? Coffee's one a the only things he seems to like at all!" groused Inu-Yasha. Kagome gave him a quick kick in the shin.

"Columbian…" said Hikaru, abstractly. "Dark roast." He looked up awkwardly for a moment, then glanced back down at the gift. "Thank you. This—this is nice."

"Just a token of appreciation," said Miroku.

"Right," said Kagome, "Also 'cause you seemed really down last night…"

Hikaru shifted nervously. "Right." He coughed. "Umm, sorry about being… brusque a moment ago. And last night." He glanced at Miroku. "Also, I'm sorry for incinerating your adult video collection last night."

Miroku gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "All is forgiven! I had copies."

Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Oh, marvelous, not only do I feel guilty but I accomplished nothing…"

"Ahh, Hikaru," said Kagome giving his back a companionable slap, "don't worry about these things! We all understand what's going on! Your natural heroishness is emerging! You're tired of not facing any real challenges, and wish to face an opponent who presses your skills to their limits. It's perfectly natural."

Hikaru stared at her for a moment. "You know, now I'm certain I've been hanging out with you too long—that almost made sense." He shook his head. "Look, I'm doing some research that turned some—interesting results, and I think you three should hear about it…" He took a deep breath. "This could be big…"

"What could be big?"

Hikaru turned his head and blinked. "A-Akane!" He laughed nervously, and started fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

He did this for several minutes.

Finally, Inu-Yasha slapped him on the back.

Hikaru glanced at him. "Thank you."

Akane looked at Inu-Yasha, then glanced at the rest of the group. "So—your—manga club?"

Hikaru laughed and nodded. "This indeed is that disreputable body." He continued laughing and nodding.

Inu-Yasha slapped him on the back.

Hikaru glanced at him. "Thank you." He turned to Akane and smiled. "I'm the president." He chuckled lightly.

Inu-Yasha slapped him on the back.

Hikaru glanced at him. "I wasn't even lapsing into hysteria that time."

Inu-Yasha shrugged. "Just wanted to be sure." He thought it over. "Plus I really like slappin' you."

Hikaru glared at him, while Akane gave the group a puzzled glance. "Well, nice to meet you all." She gave a rather forced smile. "I'm Akane Tendo—Nabiki's sister…"

"Hmm," murmured Miroku. "An attractive cripple…" He stepped forward.

Hikaru shifted slightly.

Miroku glanced at him. "Umm—Hikaru…?"

Hikaru gazed back at him calmly. "Yes?"

"I believe you're stepping on my foot…"

Hikaru seemed unmoved. "Are you sure about that?" His eyes narrowed, so that Miroku was on the receiving end of what he liked to call 'Hikaru's Sleepy-Eyed Gaze of Death'. Miroku coughed. It was never good to be on the receiving end of that.

"Um, no," he answered. "I don't think I am."

Hikaru nodded. "Good."

Akane blinked. "Umm, so is—your fiancée here…?"

"Yep!" declared Kagome. "That's me! I'm the fiancée! Yep!" She reached into her pocket. "I even got it on a card!" She pulled out a small notecard and waved it around proudly. "See?"

Akane blinked, then glanced at Hikaru. "Nabiki wasn't kidding about her, was she?"

Hikaru rubbed his forehead. "Oh, no. Not it in the least."

Akane smiled at them, and began to back away. "Well, it's good to meet you all. You seem—nice." She nodded, and began to move away very quickly.

Miroku coughed. "Umm, Hikaru…"

Hikaru gave a distracted nod. "Yes…?"

"I've thought it over, and on further examination, you are in fact standing on my foot."

Hikaru gave another distracted nod. "Ah."

Miroku smiled hopefully. "So—will you get off it?"

Hikaru thought that one over for a moment. "Sure." He shifted slightly.

Miroku began to walk around, shaking his left foot gingerly.

Hikaru began walking the direction that Akane had left in. "Right. Well, see you guys later. To discuss… things."

Kagome blinked. "Hikaru?"

Hikaru waved casually. "Everything's fine! I'll get back to it!"

Kagome picked up the tin. "You forgot your coffee…" Hikaru's form was vanishing rapidly in the distance. Despite herself, Kagome giggled, and glanced at Inu-Yasha. "I think he likes her."

Inu-Yasha nodded. "Yeah." He shook his head. "That's weird."

Kagome stared at him. "Why?"

"Well, it's just hard to imagine Hikaru likin' anybody…"

"I see your point," said Kagome softly.

"Ah! The feeling's returned!" declared Miroku.

-----

"Creepy looking thing, ain't it?"

The 'thing' in question was a samurai sword, which had apparently been designed on the general theory that a weapon should incorporate as many skull, bones, and other unpleasant motifs as they possibly could in their decoration. While the sword was covered with gold and jewels, the manner of their adornment only added to the sword's disturbing aura. Watching the sword were an old man, and a young man.

The young guard nodded. "I'll definitely sleep easier knowing it's not here…" He glanced around uneasily. "So who's the boss selling it to?"

The older guard touched his finger lightly to the tip of his nose. "Rumor has it—AIM…"

"The big head guys…?"

"I wouldn't call them that," said his superior. "They don't like people being flippant about their leader's—condition."

"What, him being a mutant freak?"

"Yeah. They're oddly sensitive on that issue."

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Finally, the younger guard spoke. "What do they want an old sword for?"

"I don't ask about those things," said the first guard. "Wisest course, I find…"

The second guard nodded, then glanced around nervously. "I wish we had our cameras up…"

"Why? So the government can impound them later and find out what went down here?" The older man shook his head. "That thing's a national treasure. It's low enough on the totem pole so a private citizen can own it, but it's not supposed to leave the country."

"But—well, I know it's a genuine katana…"

"Tachi."

"Wha—?"

"That's a tachi. Not a katana."

"Whatever. I know it's valuable, but—" He scratched his head. "It's not like old swords are that scarce."

His superior laughed. "Do you know what that thing is? It's Murasame's last blade."

The younger guard stared at him. "Murasame? Wasn't he the crazy master swordsmith whose swords were all cursed?"

The elder guard chuckled. "You're looking at the most cursed sword of all. They say when he made it he tempered it with his wife's own blood, because he wanted it to have the best…"

The second guard merely stared in shocked disbelief.

"And when he gave it away, his price was that he be killed by it."

"Why?" gulped the young guard.

"Because he'd achieved his height," replied his elder. "Anything more would have been a letdown."

The second guard shuddered. "Now I really want it out of here…"

Unknown to him, a few buildings away, a man who could control cloth with his mind was eavesdropping on his conversation in preparation of making his wish come true.

"Letting your days go by—let the water hold me down—letting your days go by—water flowing underground—Into the blue again—After the money's gone—Once in a lifetime—water flowing underground…"

Or trying to anyway.

Gypsy Moth glanced at the Crimson Cowl. Gypsy Moth had to admit the man was an expert in intimidation. Even when he was jiving along to a song, he seemed oddly frightening. Taking a deep breath, Gypsy Moth glanced at the grooving supervillain. "Would you please stop that, sir?"

The Crimson Cowl stopped in the middle of repeating "Same as it ever was," and fixed Gypsy Moth with a rather piteous gaze. "What's wrong? Do you lack that funky groove thing?"

"Let's just say I hate the Beatles…"

The Crimson Cowl laughed. "First off, those are the Talking Heads, not the Beatles, though both in fact rock. Secondly, there is no one that hates the Beatles. There are people who think they do, but this largely a pose they have created for social reasons. Understood?" He immediately began to get down again. "Water dissolving—and water removing—there is water on the bottom of the ocean…"

Gypsy Moth growled. "Look, I don't see why you're here…"

"We're a man short, remember? This job will take at least seven people to deal with security, and if I don't come along, we have six," replied the Cowl. "Oddball's work, that. He is a character, isn't he?"

Gypsy Moth narrowed his eyes. "And what about Machinesmith?"

"She's a background player," said the Cowl cheerfully. "Really unsuited for this sort of work. Whereas I am amply suited for it. In fact, it's probably serendipitous that I was allowed to join the assault team." He tapped his toe rhythmically. "We move in two hours. Please be ready then."

"I just don't think—" began Gypsy Moth.

"I know exactly what you don't think Teshigawara, and I don't care," said the Crimson Cowl forcibly. "There's a reason I'm the evil genius, and you're the hired help. In fact, we both know what that reason is, don't we? And so we're not going to talk about it, and you're not going to question my orders. Is this clear?"

Gypsy Moth gulped, then nodded.

The Crimson Cowl gave a cheerful bob of the heard. "That's good. It's always nice when two people of differing opinions can reach an understanding." He began to dance once again, singing softly. "Am I right?—Am I wrong?—And you may tell yourself—MY GOD!—WHAT HAVE I DONE?"

-----

"A sword, a coronet, a sceptre, two rings, four necklaces, and an ornamented helmet," stated Hikaru evenly.

"Ahh," said Kagome, nodding in understanding. "How'd things go with whatshername?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, now let's get back to the Shinken shards…" replied Hikaru.

"Her name was Akane," corrected Miroku.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, now let's get back to the Shinken shards…"

Kagome snapped her fingers. "That's it!" She smiled beamingly at Hikaru. "So, how'd it go?"

"I-have-no-idea-what-you're-talking-about-now-let's-get-back-to-the-Shinken-shards…"

"He froze up, couldn't say anything," said Inu-Yasha with certainty.

"That is a completely untrue—indeed libelous statement!" shouted Hikaru. "You'd be hearing from my lawyers, if I had any, and you had any money to make suing you worthwhile." Hikaru thought things over. "And while I'm wishing for things, I might as well have a pony."

"Completely untrue?" asked Miroku.

"Words were said," replied Hikaru. "Not many words, I freely admit, and not necessarily the most cogent ones, but they were words." He glanced away. "When they weren't incomprehensible mumbling." Inu-Yasha snickered. Hikaru turned on him instantly. "Who are you to judge? You're every bit as repressed and nervous around women as I am."

"I am not!" said Inu-Yasha. "I've had scores of women!"

Kagome coughed severely.

Inu-Yasha gulped. "Well—not scores…"

Kagome coughed severely.

Inu-Yasha fidgeted. "Okay—really only a few…"

Kagome coughed severely.

Inu-Yasha whimpered. "One time, me and Kik—"

Kagome coughed severely.

Inu-Yasha hung his head. "Okay, you're right. Happy now?"

"Naturally. I'm always happy when you people waste my time," said Hikaru. "It fills me with exultation. Why don't you hold a mah johng tournament here sometime? I'm sure I'd love it."

Kagome gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure there's no reason to worry. I mean you've already located so many shards…"

"Last week one of the rings was stolen," said Hikaru.

There was uncomfortable silence.

"The week before that, it was one of the necklaces. And before that, the sceptre and the helmet."

Kagome gulped. "So—someone is collecting Shinken shards."

"Yes," replied Hikaru. "And that's very bad, seeing as most people can only get themselves killed in strange ways by these things. Which means the thief has inside knowledge, which means they probably have a plan…" He shook his head. "These are dangerous times. Things are breaking down, and there are things taking advantage of—"

He froze.

Inu-Yasha blinked. "Umm, Hikaru…?"

"Form," whispered Hikaru in sepulchral voice. "Form is the mold, the perfection from which being emanates. All things are descended from Form, influenced by Form, but only an Adept can see Form, and only an Adept can influence it…"

Kagome gulped. "Hikaru?"

"Maybe we should dunk a bucket of water on him?" suggested Inu-Yasha.

"Inu-Yasha!" scolded Kagome.

"Hey, I hear that's how ya treat people havin' fits!" said Inu-Yasha angrily.

"No, no, no—you put a spoon in their mouths," corrected Miroku.

Inu-Yasha seemed puzzled. "Why do ya do that?"

Miroku frowned. "I have no idea."

"Perhaps you put medicine on the spoon?" suggested Kagome.

"I don't think so," said Miroku, his voice full of uncertainty. "Perhaps it's a quality of cold metal against the tongue…"

"I'm not having seizure, people," said Hikaru calmly.

"Quiet, Hikaru," said Kagome. "We're trying to figure out the best way to stop your seizures."

Hikaru winced. "There are moments when I question our association, you know that? Moments when I say, 'what am I doing with these people'. Moments when I have an overwhelming desire to incinerate you in the flames of my wrath…"

Kagome clapped her hands in delight. "You're not having a seizure anymore."

Hikaru gave her a rewarding pat on the shoulder. "And they say home schooling doesn't work." He got his Cloak off his bedpost. "Though technically I was never having a seizure in the first place. Well, we better get going…"

Miroku stared at Hikaru suspiciously. "So, what just happened?"

Hikaru gave a dismissive shrug. "I had a watching spell put up to alert me if—certain activities that I expected to take place took place. They took place. The spell alerted me." He shook his head. "It simply did so in a way that was more—violent than I'd expected."

Inu-Yasha stared at him. "So—you just almost fried yer own brain?"

"Of course not," laughed Hikaru confidently. " 'Almost' is such an imprecise word, when you get down to it. I merely slightly miscalculated the effects of my spell, and the feedback turned out to be more powerful than I thought. That's all! No danger of brain frying whatsoever! That I know of! So let's get moving!" Hikaru gestured emphatically. "Chop, chop people!"

Miroku stared at him for a moment. "So—what's going on?"

Hikaru made an effort at a casual grin. It didn't go well. "Remember that sword I mentioned to you, a little while ago?"

-----

The world can be a very ironic place, sometimes.

For example, security forces tend to favor men over women in their hiring practices. Sexist perhaps, but a fact.

Man-killer also tends to favor men over women in her attacking practices. Also sexist, but also a fact.

Man-killer, being a criminal often fights private security forces, and the fact that they're usually men makes her very happy.

Thus the sexist practices of the one encourage the sexist practices of the other, who doesn't even realize that she's benefiting from a sexist practice.

See? Irony.

The complex interplay of factors was completely lost on the man whose arm she was breaking.

"Man, this is easy!" she stated loudly. "I mean you think someone like this 'Hammer' guy would keep a few kung-fu masters on hand, or at least arm his guys with advanced particle weaponry, but all he has is normal guys with guns…"

Oddball glanced at her. "You'd rather they were the particle ray-toting kung-fu masters?" he noted.

"Well," said Man-Killer, sending her victim toppling into three other guards, "you have to admit that it'd be more interesting. Not that I'm knocking this," she added quickly. "It's just not particularly challenging."

Oddball, in short order sent out an exploding ball that demolished a walkway, a tear gas ball that incapacitated twelve guards, and a weighted ball that smashed a guard's wrist and sent his shot into the head of the man next to him instead of Oddball. He glanced back at Man-Killer. "I agree. These people are undertrained. I blame an overstimulated market—too much demand producing inferior goods."

Gypsy Moth stared at them disgustedly as he snapped the backs of another pair of guards. "Would you two stop talking like that!" he muttered. "It's very distracting."

Man-Killer winced. "We're just—chatting…"

Gypsy Moth turned away. "This is a criminal society, not a social club."

"Can't it be both?" came a soft voice.

Gypsy Moth blinked as the Crimson Cowl stepped majestically past him. "Umm… sir…" said Gypsy Moth nervously.

The Crimson Cowl strode forward. "After all I'm not best served by people being tense, and not talking to each other. I want you to enjoy working with each other. In fact, Gypsy Moth, you should probably spend more effort in getting along with your fellow members." A shot rang out, missing the Cowl's head by inches. He turned and shot a bola at the fleeing security guard, then darted forward and struck the man unconscious as he fell. "Merely a suggestion," he finished.

Jigen paused from his own efforts, which had just collapsed a stairway which seven men were going down, and stared at the Crimson Cowl, who had followed the conclusion of that subtle dressing down by disposing of two more opponents. Slyde and Whirlwind were fighting in unison, Whirlwind's spinning and Slyde's dashing taking down opponents before they could even react. Gypsy Moth and Man-Killer were each taking down people with a brutal simplicity, despite their disdain for each other. But Oddball was, perhaps, the star attraction, taking down hordes of the security guards at a time. Jigen had to admire that level of skill, even if seeing it possessed by an individual who'd gladly knife him in the back and then sell his organs, if he thought it worthwhile was less than comforting.

The Crimson Cowl glanced around. "I believe we've taken care of these people. Now, let's hurry up before reinforcements arrive. The sword—"

"Is staying right where it is, thank you…", came a quiet voice.

Jigen was not the only one who turned to see a pale young man dressed in a black outfit with a yin-yang sewn on it and an elaborate scarlet cape, floating in midair.

But he was the only one who saw the way the Crimson Cowl relaxed as soon as he saw him. "Dr. Strange," noted the Cowl calmly. "And—yes," he continued as three more figures came into view, "his performing troupe of trained superheroes." The Crimson Cowl chuckled. "Nice to see you. I've been expecting you."

-----

"Well, I hope you don't find us disappointing," said Hikaru. "We exist solely for you, the audience." Glancing over the crowd, it seemed that he was facing a surprisingly large convention of LARPers. The groaning bodies around them belied that of course, though Hikaru had heard those things could get surprisingly rough.

"So, who are you guys?" noted Hikaru in a bored tone of voice. "The Legion of Angry Cosplayers? The Sci-fi Fans for a Brighter Tomorrow Through Random Acts of Terrorism?"

"My followers," said an individual who Hikaru guessed had a name involving 'red' in it, "are the Masters of Evil."

"Tcch. I knew it was the Legion of Angry Cosplayers…" muttered Hikaru.

"As for me," the figure continued, "I'm Death come to claim you clad in finest crimson, magician."

"You must be an absolute riot at parties. Oh, wait—I bet you call them soirees." Hikaru looked at him for a moment. "So it's 'Crimson something', right? Something alliterative? 'Crimson Cockatoo'? 'Crimson Clubber'? 'Crimson Catamount'?"

"It could be the 'Crimson Dynamo'!" suggested Kagome.

"Ehh," said Hikaru. "He doesn't seem very dynamic…"

"I'm the Crimson Cowl," noted their opponent tiredly.

"Oh," said Kagome.

"HA! Knew it was something alliterative!" said Hikaru. "You mastermind types seem to have about four or five ideas for names that you swap around…"

"I find this conversation strange and off-putting," noted the Cowl. "So I think that I'll just head off and get the sword while my minions take care of you." He retreated slowly into the shadows.

Hikaru floated down and hurried after his opponent. "Hey! We're not done talking, pal!"

At that moment, a large muscular women stepped in front of him. "Well, well Doc—looks like you're about to go one on one with the Man-Killer."

"Don't worry, Dr. Strange!" shouted Kagome. "We'll help you!"

"No, you won't," said a man in a butterfly costume, swooping down and grabbing her.

"Kagome!" shouted Inu-Yasha.

"Hey! What did I say about saying my name!" shouted Kagome as Gypsy Moth carried her away.

Inu-Yasha began to follow after him, only to take a heavy blue ball to the back that sent him sprawling. "You know, I was hoping to meet you again. I just didn't think it would be so soon."

Inu-Yasha turned, snarling. "Clown. What're ya doin' outta prison?"

"It's Oddball now," said the juggler quietly. "And I'm something of an expert at avoiding charges."

"Yeah, well, I don't think ya can avoid me!"

Oddball merely smiled.

Miroku rushed forward. "Careful my friend, I sense—"

A fast moving blur knocked down the Devil-Slayer, followed by another blur that bored right into him.

As he slowly righted himself, Miroku's gaze came to rest on a pair of flamboyantly dressed individuals. "Prepare to face the might of SLYDE and WHIRLWIND!" stated Slyde.

"How come you always put your name first?" said Whirlwind.

Slyde glared at her sibling. "Because I'm the leader. Now let's beat the crap out of this guy."

Whirlwind nodded reluctantly. "Okay…"

Man-Killer grinned at Hikaru. "Looks like your friends are occupied." She cracked her knuckles. "Okay—simple rules. You hit me—then I hit you. Last one left standing wins."

Hikaru stared at her with an odd forcefulness. Man-Killer gave an oof, and sped towards the wall, slamming into it in an extremely painful manner. She slumped to the ground, and with a groan, passed out.

"I win," said Hikaru, heading off after the Crimson Cowl.

-----

Kagome glanced at the darkened room that Gypsy Moth had taken her off to. It wasn't a very nice place, and the fact that she couldn't move her arms only added to her discomfort.

"Wha—what are you doing to me?" she asked nervously.

"Don't say anything," said Gypsy Moth. "You'll spoil the effect."

Kagome gulped, then whimpered. Suddenly her hair began to wrap around her throat.

"I told you not to say anything!" stated Gypsy Moth, glaring at her. He paced around the room, his expression oddly frustrated. "You know, if you… ruin this for me… it won't go very well." He shook his head nervously. "You have to understand—you look like her. Very much like her. And I want to—talk to her again. So I'm going to—talk to you. And maybe, when I'm finished with you—I'll be able to—talk to her." He turned towards suddenly, pointing in an almost accusatory manner. "Do you understand me?"

Kagome nodded, guessing that to be the proper response.

"Good—good!" tittered Gypsy Moth. He smiled. "Oh, this will be good. I can feel the endorphins sluicing through my brain. Yes, yes, yes! Adrenaline! Precious adrenaline! How I've missed you!" He laughed manically.

Kagome gulped. This looked grim. Her costume was starting to strain against her like a living straightjacket.

"Oh, yes! Absolutely perfect!" chuckled Gypsy Moth, leaning over her, as if inspecting her by some unfathomable measure.

Kagome's hand shifted, touching something thin and wooden. She blinked. Her arrows! Gypsy Moth hadn't taken off her quiver! She gritted her teeth, and grabbed an arrow. She glanced at Gypsy Moth. He was giggling rapturously, inspecting a contortion of her legs Kagome found rather painful. She nodded to herself. This was going to be tough and she was only going to get one chance.

With the greatest amount of effort she could muster, Kagome jabbed forward with the arrow, resisting Gypsy Moth's telekinesis and stabbing him in the arm.

Gypsy Moth screamed, as Kagome fell limp to floor. "You—you bitch!" he whimpered. "I told you to do what I said! What happens now is your own fault, do you—!"

Kagome's arrow converted into a stream of light that wrapped around Gypsy Moth then threw him through the nearest window. Kagome took a couple deep breaths then stood up. She could hear the fighting and that meant it wasn't too far…

-----

Inu-Yasha dodged a red ball that exploded as soon as it hit the wall where he'd been standing.

This was followed by him taking a large yellow ball directly in the chest.

"I see your strategic ability remains as negligible as ever," noted Oddball.

"Shut up!" muttered Inu-Yasha. The yellow ball had turned into a strange powder that was making blink and sniffle a bit more than he felt comfortable with.

"Oh—witty," said Oddball monotonously.

"Ehh, what've ya got to be proud of? We took care of you easy last time!"

"At that time I was hindered by less than able allies…" noted Oddball calmly.

Inu-Yasha noted the strange electric smell and the buzzing hum just in time to see the Living Laser's gauntlets fire. As he leapt out of the way, he felt his eyes swell shut, and his nose suddenly clog up.

"I wonder if that irritant's starting to effect you?" wondered Oddball.

Inu-Yasha groaned, as he tried to regain his balance. This wasn't turning out the way he thought it would.

-----

Hikaru walked forward to the display case.

Someone had it seemed, broken off the end of the sword.

"The blade itself was useless to me," came the Cowl's voice. "So I figured—why be encumbered by so much excess weight?"

Hikaru glanced around. All right, so he had no idea where the Crimson Cowl was. Admittedly that was odd—he should at least have gotten some sense of his aura by now, but it was no reason to panic—just follow the sound of his voice…

"Personally, I think it's a shame to destroy a museum quality piece, but that's the price of business sometimes…"

"Naturally," said Hikaru, stepping slightly to the right.

A rain of metal darts buried themselves in the wall beside him.

The Cowl chuckled. "I see you've had some training in blind-fighting."

Hikaru glanced around nervously. "Fighting by sound and vibration were among the least of what I learned from my kindly sadistic master…"

"Excellent," said the Cowl. "Than you will be ready for this!" Hikaru quickly blocked a flurry of punches, and leapt backwards.

"Impressive," noted the Cowl. "I don't know if I could have handled that."

Hikaru did his best to ignore the fact that his arms felt like he'd tried to tackle a brick wall after first gingerly smacking them against a steel bar a few times as a warm up. "Well, I just might give you a chance," he said brightly, and then sent a blast of arcane fire the Cowl's way.

The bolt slid off a glowing sphere that appeared around the Cowl. Hikaru stared in amazement.

"What's the matter, Gosunkugi?" said the Cowl. "Things not going as you planned?"

"How…?" asked Hikaru.

"How what?" noted the Cowl calmly in that smug tone that Hikaru was really starting to hate. "How is it I know your name? How is it that the hypnotic blocks you've put up to hide your identity don't work? How is it I give off no aura? How is it I can block your attacks? How can I pull off this ensemble? Please specify."

Hikaru gulped. All right, so he was facing an opponent who apparently knew more about him than he did. He could get out of it. Probably. In a manner that didn't involve dying. Hopefully. "Answer in any order you find preferable…"

The Crimson Cowl hit him suddenly with a crescent kick that sent Hikaru sprawling to the ground. "Thank you, I will." He paced around the groaning Hikaru. "My immunity to your various hypnotic tricks you use to guard both your identity and your person are due to the psionic inhibitors I had built into my costume. These are also what keep you from sensing my aura." He gave a shrug. "Quite a handy addition, all things considered. I can block your powers, because magic is ultimately energy, and energy can be neutralized by opposing energy." He walked closer to Hikaru. "I know your name because I was informed of it, by someone who's been spying on you for some time now. And I can pull off this outfit because of my innate elegance." He raised his fist. "So do those answers satisfy your curiosity?"

Hikaru shot up, his hand shimmering, and struck the Cowl in the chest. The supervillain toppled to the floor several feet away. "Oh, very much so," said Hikaru. "Among other things I learnt you really love the sound of your own voice."

The Crimson Cowl stood up and sent a twirling blade at Hikaru. Hikaru raised his hand, and the blade shattered in front of it. "Also, you clearly know less about me than you think, or you'd have realized that your not the only guy in town with a force field trick."

"It seems we are at something of an impasse," noted the Cowl. "Both of us cannot use our most potent weapons on each other. This warrants a less—cerebral approach."

Hikaru blinked. "You know, I'm getting a definite impression here—a neglected childhood, filled with many, many books with characters declaiming endlessly."

"Do not lecture me on my childhood, Gosunkugi," replied the Crimson Cowl curtly. "I can say with the utmost assurance that you don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about." He glanced around the room, quietly. "It seems we are going to have to solve this using—how did you put it—ah, yes, the old fashioned way'."

Hikaru sighed. "You and I are going to beat the ever-living crap out of each other, through the time-honored tradition involving fists, feet, and objects of sufficient size we pick up. Am I right?"

The Crimson Cowl gave a decided click of his tongue. "You have such a dry, discouraged way of describing everything. It makes it quite frustrating to talk to you."

The Cowl chuckled. "You're trying to distract me. It won't work."

A slight smile touched Hikaru's face. "Actually, it already has…" With that he suddenly charged forward, striking the Cowl in the chest and eyes.

Actual magicians are generally in much better shape than is popularly believed, as allowing oneself to get out of shape in any profession that involves hideous beings of extraordinary strength is unwise. Most wizards have some level of physical conditioning and martial arts training. However, wizards do not practice martial arts with any idea of gaining status from them. They do not enter tournaments and tend to call their moves things like 'a good way to break an opponent's knee', or 'will probably cause massive contusions'. Wizards practice martial arts with the sole purpose of persuading non-magicians not to attack magicians, possibly to the extent of killing them if necessary. Thus Hikaru's blow was steady and sure, delivered with strength and power, and generally certain leave the average opponent a blind wincing bag screaming on the ground—or rather trying to scream as their lungs attempted to resupply them with air.

His hands hit solid constructs of metal and plastic.

"Oh, crap," said Hikaru.

"Indeed," said the Crimson Cowl, countering with a swiping left hook. "You didn't think I'd leave my vitals unguarded, did you?"

-----

Miroku gasped as Slyde's fists collided with his rib cage. "Give it up," stated Slyde. "The combination of Whirlwind's air blasts and my friction reduction abilities allow me to reach speeds that are unbeatable!"

Miroku's staff slammed into her with surprisingly little effect, as the supervillain twisted under the blow, and landed a kick in Miroku's stomach. "Forget it, moron. I'm an expert at rolling with the punches. With no friction, your blows just do not find enough resistance to do much."

Whirlwind glanced up. "Slyde, all this spinning is making me naseous…"

Slyde looked at Miroku confidentally. "You can stop now, Whirlwind." She smiled. "I don't think there's much need to keep going."

Miroku slowly recovered his footing, and raised his hand to his gauntlet. It appeared that he had no choice. If he did not do this, he might die. " All right you two," Miroku began, "if you do not surrender, I shall unleash a mighty power that I keep hidden within me by a simple length of cloth…"

Slyde immediately shrieked and covered her eyes. "Ahh! My delicate young eyes are not ready for this sight. I'm a frail, unblemished virgin."

Miroku blinked. "I'll just—take off my gauntlet…"

Slyde snorted. "So that's what you call it. My god, the ego of some people…"

Miroku took off his gauntlet and raised his hand.

"That's it!" said Whirlwind in disbelief.

Slyde uncovered her eyes and blinked. "Wow, I was suspecting something more—"

At that moment Miroku's wind tunnel sent her and Whirlwind rushing forward. Miroku covered his hand in time to send the Golden Pair hurtling towards the wall, instead of their doom.

Thanks to her friction reducing powers, Slyde hit the wall before Whirlwind, and with greater impact. She was not thankful for this fact, though Miroku was.

-----

Inu-Yasha felt his way along the wall as quickly as he could, the shots of Oddball and the Living Laser streaking past him. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped he had the time to do it…

Jigen glanced at Oddball. "Fast bugger, ain't he?"

Oddball sighed. "You have no idea."

Jigen smiled. "He seems to have gotten himself backed into a corner…"

Inu-Yasha felt the corner of the walls, and smiled, then turned around. "All right, punks—now we get serious…"

The Living Laser and Oddball fired at him.

Inu-Yasha drew Tetsaiga, and deflected their shots. "That all ya got…" he said, quietly.

"No," answered Oddball.

The Living Laser blinked. "Umm, Oddball…"

An arrow buried itself in the ground, and exploded.

"Foolish villains! Face the power of—HELLCAT!" announced Kagome. She glanced at Inu-Yasha. "Hey! Is that the Clown? From the Circus of Crime?"

Inu-Yasha gave a slow, pained nod. "He's callin' himself 'Oddball' now."

-----

Hikaru did a mental review of his situation.

He was fighting an opponent who was clearly in superior physical condition, who apparently knew all of his tricks, and was ready for them. This put him on the defensive, which meant that he was basically dodging whatever the Cowl threw at him.

A red-gloved fist collided with his ribs. Hikaru twisted suddenly to avoid the next blow.

Okay. Mostly dodging what the Cowl threw at him.

"Tell me, Gosunkugi, how long before you pass out from pain and exhaustion?" asked the Crimson Cowl in tones of utmost concern.

"Ha!" said Hikaru, as he ducked under the Cowl's next blow. "Shows what you know! Like all practitioners of the Art, I gain mastery of the universe, first through mastery of the self, followed by mastery of my personal space, and completed by mastery of the general area surrounding me…"

The Crimson Cowl gave a slightly offended sigh. "Tell me, do you honestly think that your rambling is that fascinating…?"

Hikaru did a quick check of his surroundings. "No. More distracting and irritating. The point is, I can perform acts of surprising endurance and fortitude, despite my delicate frame, simply by ignoring the irrational demands of my body regarding things like pain and overexertion."

The Crimson Cowl lashed out with a palm heel strike that Hikaru was quite overjoyed to have miss. "Interesting," he noted calmly. "But it is still not going to help you against me..."

"Well, that's why I also was trained to quickly note my surroundings and create comprehensive strategies based on them." Hikaru darted to the side and picked up an antique chair. "Now face my Queen Anne's Chair—OF JUSTICE!"

The Crimson Cowl went slightly rigid, allowing the chair to break upon him easily. "You do realize I've also had extensive combat training, don't you?"

Hikaru fidgeted awkwardly, holding a chair leg in each hand almost embarrassedly. "Heh. Guess I did forget that…"

The Cowl was already preparing a killing blow. "Well, Gosunkugi, mistakes are often fat—"

What remained of the chair's seat was kicked into the Cowl's legs by a deft bit of footwork on Hikaru's part. The Crimson Cowl gave a yelp of pain as he fell face forward into another kick that sent him tumbling backwards.

"Or it could be part of that whole 'comprehensive strategy' thing I mentioned earlier," noted Hikaru. "Take your pick."

The Crimson Cowl tried to rise, weakly. "But—"

"If you're wondering how I knew to aim for the legs, you moved too swiftly and unencumbered for your limbs to be armored as well. 'Quickly note my environment' if you remember." Hikaru smiled darkly. "Now, you're badly off-balance. If only I had some means of pressing my advantage…" He glanced at the chair legs. "Why, I'm holding a blunt object in each hand! How convenient!" He charged forward. "Now then, what was that you asked me about pain and passing out?"

-----

Inu-Yasha and Kagome glanced around, nervously. "Okay—where'd they go…?" muttered Inu-Yasha.

"How should I know?" said Kagome. "It was your epic struggle." She thought it over. "Couldn't you just—you know—sniff them out?"

"First, my nose is still filled with gunk, second, I only get a general location…"

A laser shot rang out.

Inu-Yasha nodded. "Okay, think I found 'em." He charged forward, sword drawn, and slashed at the older supervillain. A bright shield of light formed around the Living Laser and deflected his blow. "Wha—?"

"A field of highly condensed light rays," noted Jigen scholarly. "Surprisingly durable, I think you'll find…"

"You think this'll stop me for long…" snarled Inu-Yasha.

"Actually, he's just the decoy," noted Oddball.

Inu-Yasha turned to see Oddball standing behind Kagome with a rather unpleasant looking orange ball pointed right at her head. "Now, then," the juggler continued, "don't try anything or I will blow this pretty lady's head right off." Oddball's mouth twitched into a dry frown. "And I won't make a production out of it. I'll just do it. Like that." He snapped his fingers.

"You let her go…" growled Inu-Yasha.

"Keep talking like that, and I will kill her," said Oddball flatly. "You really should follow your lady friend's example. She's not going to try anything crazy. She knows I'd leave her corpse twitching here if she did."

Kagome's hand swiftly backed away from her quiver.

Oddball gave a mordant chuckle. "Wise girl. Now, here's what we're going to do. First, you, dog boy, are going to throw away your sword…"

Inu-Yasha looked at Jigen. "This make you feel good? Beatin' me by threatin' a girl?"

"It doesn't make me feel anything," said Jigen. "I'm not like Oddball over there—I'm not vicious—just practical. I like living, and I like being free. Now do as he says."

Inu-Yasha glanced at Tetsaiga. He'd never thought he'd see the day he'd wish he was fighting demons. Not only had humanity spent the last few centuries he'd missed closing the power gap (at least on a case by case basis) but they were a lot more… insidious than demons. Demons were straightforward. They hurt you and they liked it. They never told you in great detail things they knew they weren't going to do because you were going to be reasonable, oh, yes, you were. They never tried to make it seem like they were somehow doing you a favor.

Oddball coughed. "You are going to throw that sword away, aren't—"

Miroku's staff collided firmly with Oddball's head. He pitched forward, releasing Kagome, who rushed towards Inu-Yasha and drew her bow on the Living Laser.

"I don't think he's going to be doing anything you two want," noted Miroku.

Oddball glanced up at Jigen. "Laser…?"

Jigen nodded. "No use staying around where we aren't wanted…" He raised a laser gauntlet upwards. A brilliant flare of light shot out, blinding the trio momentarily. When they cleared their eyes, the two Masters of Evil were gone.

-----

"I love the feel of solid oak," noted Hikaru, pressing forward against his adversary's defense. The Crimson Cowl was doing his level best to block Hikaru's impromptu clubs, but the effort was clearly costing him.

"That's walnut," the supervillain corrected weakly.

"Nice to know," said Hikaru cheerily. "Glad to see your keeping your spirits up. You're handling yourself quite well for a man with a broken wrist."

"My wrist isn't…"

Hikaru twirled forward, both chair legs striking the Crimson Cowl's right wrist, producing an unpleasant crack. The Cowl gave a muffled yell as he tumbled to the side. Hikaru glanced at his opponent sympathetically. "You know, you can just give up, and hand over the shard. Otherwise it will be a matter of me searching your unconscious body, and I don't want to do that. It's entering a creepy realm that I want to avoid…"

The Crimson Cowl glanced up at Hikaru, annoyed. "You know, Gosunkugi, when I said we had to do this the 'old-fashioned way, I was lying." He raised his left arm, a dart striking Hikaru even as he prepared to defend himself. "I had another weapon in case of emergencies. And you have no idea how it sorrows me to use it."

Hikaru shuddered slightly, then gave a defiant laugh. "Ha! Is that your best? Did you actually think a tranquilizer dart can take me out?"

A second dart struck him in the chest. Hikaru blinked, and then began to sway unsteadily. "Two should do it…"

Two more darts struck him. He glanced at the Crimson Cowl weakly. "Four is just overkill," he muttered in a slurred voice before collapsing.

The Crimson Cowl took a deep breath. "Now then, Gosunkugi, I believe this little contest is over."

"Mmmblefgh," murmured Hikaru.

"No rematch," replied the Cowl. "I plan on making very sure of that…"

Hikaru glanced around desperately, trying to remain conscious. He wasn't in any state to work any advanced spells at the moment, a but few simple magicks might work…

The Cowl pulled a long thin stiletto from his sleeve, and approached Hikaru slowly. "Now then, I would very much like to know, Gosunkugi, if the things I'm going to do to you can be felt when anaesthetized, so please, do your best to tell me…" He strode forward majestically, like an honored judge entering a court.

The headboard from the Queen Anne's chair struck him in the back, tripping him.

Hikaru chuckled.

"You know, Gosunkugi," seethed the Cowl, "that was a cheap trick."

"Mmmbl-mmble mmlpfgh."

"I highly doubt you've even met my mother," grumbled the Cowl. He drew another stiletto. "Forget the torture, I'm just going to make this quick."

"Freeze, Cowl!"

The Crimson Cowl turned and glanced at Hikaru's gathered allies. "Oh, can't I just kill him and get it over with? Must I face these eternal interruptions?"

Kagome gave a heroic laugh. "When will you villains learn? The price of evil is meanness!"

The Cowl blinked. "That didn't make any sense at all." He sighed. "Look, I'd love to stay here and iron this out with you, but the truth is, I have a flight to catch." He struck a button on his belt. A rather compact helicopter smashed through the ceiling. The Crimson Cowl grabbed onto the leg and hoisted himself aboard. "So long then. I won't say it's been pleasant, largely because it hasn't."

Inu-Yasha rushed forward as the helicopter took off. "Hey! Come back here!"

Kagome glanced at Inu-Yasha. "Umm, Inu-Yasha—I think Hikaru's hurt. We should get him out of here…"

"But the Cowl…!"

Kagome frowned.

Inu-Yasha grumbled, and lifted up the barely conscious sorcerer.

"Mmblftz…" muttered Hikaru darkly as his form was jostled out the door.

Inu-Yasha glanced at Kagome irritatedly. "He never stops whinin' does he?"

Miroku took a weary breath. "Oh, he does sleep occasionally…"

"Mmmmblmmm…" mumbled Hikaru in a very annoyed tone.

"My apologies sir," said Miroku. "I thought you couldn't make out words."

The group walked on in silence for a while. "It's a shame the villains all got away," noted Kagome as they reached the street.

Miroku chuckled. "Oh, they didn't all get away…" He gestured upwards.

Slyde and Whirlwind were hanging upside-down from a streetlight.

"I swear, you've made a grave error!" shouted Slyde. "As soon as I figure out how to get out of this without breaking my neck, you will pay!"

"The blood is rushing to my head," muttered Whirlwind.

"Quiet, bro," snapped Slyde.

-----

"How could you leave them behind?" Man-Killer asked angrily. "I mean—they were on our side! We're supposed to look out for each other."

"Within reason," replied the Cowl sipping a martini. Machinesmith was massaging his wrist gingerly. Despite his injuries, he seemed fairly composed—even blasé.

Most of the remaining group was in pretty miserable condition. Oddball and Jigen both seemed worn and tired. Gypsy Moth was covered in broken glass and blood, and absolutely refused to tell how that had happened. And Man-Killer's head still felt like it had been slammed into a brick wall, largely because it had.

"Look—what happens if we keep leaving men behind?" asked Man-Killer.

"We get more," replied the Crimson Cowl. "As the Living Laser put it so eloquently, in this business there are only temporary partnerships, that get dissolved." He glanced at Machinesmith. "Not so hard! It's still tender!" He sipped his drink, and looked back at Man-Killer. "In all truth, Man-Killer, I would think more about how poorly I performed if I were you…"

The muscle-bound villainess gulped. "Are you—going to kill me?"

The Cowl sighed. "If I killed people for failing, I'd have to kill myself first. And if I killed them for holding different opinions, I might as well recruit robots."

"I could whip some up for you, sir…" began Machinesmith.

"It was a rhetorical statement," said the Cowl tiredly. He glanced back at Man-Killer. "No, I'm not going to kill you. It'd be pointless. And while I understand your concern, I'd like to point out that this mission was in many ways successful. We got what we were supposed to get, and if our performance against Dr. Strange and his cronies was subpar—well, at least it wasn't a total embarrassment."

"I'm out," announced Jigen suddenly.

"What was that?" said the Cowl.

"I'm out," he repeated. "I don't know what you're planning, but I don't like it. You were clearly expecting those superheroes, but you didn't say a word of it to us. You had us do all that work, scoping the place out, cutting off the communications, taking down the guards—but you never even mentioned who'd come calling. I've had a lot of experience in this business, and bosses like that—clever or not—are always trouble. I'm leaving, and anyone with any sense will come with me…" He glanced at Gypsy Moth and Man-Killer pointedly.

They glanced away.

"That's your feeling on the subject?" asked the Crimson Cowl calmly. "Nothing I can say can change your mind?"

"Precisely." Jigen stood up, and headed for the door.

The Cowl sipped his drink, then idly waved his right hand.

The blade took Jigen in the throat.

"Rebellion, and desertion, on the other hand, I do kill for." The Cowl gave a distracted nod. "One has to you know, or discipline vanishes. Well done, Knight."

An eerily pale girl hovered in, followed by two slightly more normal figures—a young woman and a younger boy, both wearing strange body armor. The woman carried a large boomerang, the boy a sickle and chain. Both had eyes that glowed a dull purple, and moved with an oddly stiff gait.

"I'd like you to meet the other three Masters of Evil," said the Crimson Cowl cheerily. "Moonstone, Black Knight, and Boomerang. I apologize for their inability to help us tonight, but they've been abroad recovering certain—items of value." He glanced at the pale young girl. "How did it go, Moonstone?"

The girl threw a small bag on the table. "All items were retrieved."

The Crimson Cowl opened up the bag, and emptied it out on the table before him. A sceptre, a ring, a necklace, and a helmet fell before him. "Excellent," he said quietly. He glanced at Machinesmith. "I'd like you to take care of the Laser's body. Also take his gauntlets, and see if you can come up with a more compact system for me to use. I'd like a weapon that potent." He glanced up at Oddball. "We'll be needing at least one more member. Ideally three, but that may take too long." He shook his head. "No four—you killed two. Almost forgot that in the excitement."

Oddball gave a slight bow. "I'll do my best, sir." He turned to the others, and gestured to the door. "I believe it's time to step out."

Gypsy Moth and Man-Killer nodded and followed him out. "You know," began Man-Killer, "I've got an old friend who's doing a supervillain thing. Maybe she'll be interested."

Gypsy Moth shrugged. "And I've got an acquaintance at my therapy meetings who I can tolerate…"

Only the Cowl and his three earlier associates remained in the room. Moonstone glanced at him. "I wish to say, I do not approve of this plan."

The Crimson Cowl flexed his wrist and opened a small wooden box. "Your statement is noted," he said, taking out a cigar.

"Do not dismiss what I am saying so lightly," said Moonstone. "I do not believe you are following the Master's wishes."

The Cowl picked up a small pair of scissors and cut the end off the cigar. "Moonstone—who did the Master leave in charge?"

"You," replied Moonstone, with no hesitation.

"Exactly," said the Crimson Cowl. "I believe you should trust his judgement." The Cowl lit his cigar and took a long contented puff. "I'll get his little jewel shards for him," he said calmly. His voice took on a darker note. "You know what's at stake for me. I have to."

-----

Hikaru awoke for the second time to the sight of rainbows and unicorns.

It was slightly less disconcerting. He rose uncertainly.

"You're up!" said a familiar chirpy voice.

"How long was I out?" asked Hikaru, as his vision cleared. Kagome, Miroku and Inu-Yasha were staring at him concernedly.

"Three hours," replied Miroku.

"Ah," said Hikaru. "Well, I'd better get going."

"What?" said Kagome.

"I just convinced my body to do a lot of healing very rapidly, following convincing it to pretend to be that of an Olympic grade athlete. I've got about enough energy at the moment to drag myself to my own bed, and I intend to use it."

Kagome coughed. "I was just wondering if we could—figure out what we're going to do about the Masters of Evil…"

Hikaru turned. "Do? We're not going to do anything. I wanted to see what would happen if I fought a formidable supervillain, and what happened was I lost."

"That's not true!" said Kagome ardently.

"Oh, really!" shot out Hikaru. "Let's see—I got beaten up, and drugged, most of the bad guys got away, AND they got what they were after. You're right! That's a roaring success story."

"They didn't kill you," said Kagome quietly. "That's what they really wanted. You dead. And they didn't get it." She smiled. "And that means you can always beat them next time."

Hikaru was silent for a moment. And then he chuckled. "You might be right. Or I might have a concussion. Either way what you're saying seems strangely sensible." He shook his head. "I'll see you guys."

He left the room.

Miroku smiled at Kagome and Inu-Yasha. "So—guess I'm staying here tonight…"

Kagome frowned and pointed to the door. "Out."

"Damn!" came Hikaru's voice, wafting up the stairway.

-----

As Hikaru made his way home, he looked at the city, and wondered. What other threats might be out there on this night?

-----

On a dark street corner, the Trapster and Excel pushed a middle-aged prostitute onto the street.

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" laughed the Trapster triumphantly. "Flee harlot! This street corner is now the property of—THE FRIGHTFUL FOUR!"

"That's right!" laughed Excel. "It belongs to us! Like Menchi! And Lord Wizard's stamp collection!"

"Hmmph," muttered the woman, walking off irritatedly. "Punks."

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Flee, yes, flee, weakling! You are not able to defeat us!" laughed Jinnai triumphantly. Project Delta was already an unimagined success. His heart swelled with triumph. "Excel, it is clear that we are now on the path of VICTORY!"

"Yes!" cried Excel. "We will conquer this city one street corner at a time! Today this street corner, tomorrow—that other street corner!"

"Indeed!" shouted Jinnai. "And perhaps in a week, assuming favorable circumstances—a city block!"

"And then maybe—a child's lemonade stand!" shouted Excel.

"And from there we shall conquer—a mini-mall!"

"Oh, Lord Trapster!" squealed Excel. "Your visions of our glorious future successes fill my heart with an arrogant euphoria."

Jinnai put an arm around her shoulder. "As well it should, child! We have taken yet another step on the road called 'Destiny' to the place called Glory, in the land of—things." He coughed, then glanced around. "Yes, with you three—" He blinked. "Umm, we're missing a member…"

Excel blinked in alarm. "Did Medusa-chan drop unconscious again?"

Medusa glanced up from her respirator. "No, senior, I'm right here, though I'm happy for your concern…"

"But that means…" Excel's eyes widened in horror. "NOOOOOOOO! Do not tell me our glorious leader and font of eternal inspiration the Wizard has fallen!" She fell sobbing to the ground. "Who? Who could have done such a hideous thing? Who could have destroyed the Wizard? Destroyed the very epitome of evil? Who?"

"Whoever did it," said Jinnai, "—and I personally suspect Mizuhara—"

"Damn the bastard!" screamed Excel.

"—it will not go unavenged!" Jinnai struck a pose. "I, the Trapster, swear to bring the Wizard's slayer to the sticky hand of justice!"

Excel gave a shriek that would have caused most people's eardrums to burst. (Excel and Jinnai, being long accustomed to the such shrill sounds, were naturally immune to this effect.) "Oh Lord Trapster! Your persevering malignant nature is almost as great an inspiration as Lord Wizard!" She stood up and rushed to his side. "I will be by your side as you pursue this mad vengeance! If you will be the sword of revenge, I will be the—other sword of revenge!"

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" laughed Jinnai. "Nothing shall stand against us—and Medusa, assuming she also desires revenge."

"Thank you, Lord Trapster," replied Medsua softly. "I will sit this one out."

"No biggie!" cried Jinnai. "Excel, simultaneous sinister laughter on three. One—two—three—"

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" laughed the two supervillains in tandem. " HAHAHA—"

"Did I miss something?" asked the Wizard tiredly, sipping a drink.

Jinnai and Excel stopped midchortle. "Umm, Lord Wizard," began Excel. "What happened?"

The Wizard raised his drink. "I bought a Frappachino. I find them quite tasty." He returned to sipping his drink.

Jinnai managed a dazed nod. "I see. Very good. Join us in our strident laughter."

"How about I wave my fist in scorn?" asked the Wizard quietly.

"That'll do!" noted Jinnai.

He and Excel resumed their manic laughter.

" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This is our street corner!" shouted Jinnai. "Our conquest of it has been complete!"

"Yes! This street corner is our street corner!" exclaimed Excel. "The best street corner! Much better than that street corner over there!"

"Damn straight!" yelled Jinnai. "It is our own, our native street corner! We will die for the honor of street corner!"

"Or preferably cause someone else to!" noted Excel.

"Naturally!" replied Jinnai.

"There they are, Tanaka! Those are the lousy jerks who shoved me off my corner."

The prostitute they'd shoved off had come back with an angry looking gentleman wearing a garish suit. The apparent Tanaka glared at them. "Are you punks trying to muscle in on my turf?" Tanaka brought out a rather menacing looking firearm.

Jinnai blinked. "Of course not, sir, we were just—RUN FOR IT!"

The Frightful Four darted off.

Excel glanced at Jinnai. "Pardon me, Lord Trapster, but I thought we were going to defend our street corner to the death…"

Jinnai gave a furtive shrug. "Well, I thought it over, and I said to myself—it's a big city. We can get another street corner. One in a better neighborhood."

Excel nodded. "Your reasoning is flawless as always, sir."

"Of course it is!" said Jinnai. "I'm an evil genius!"

-----

Probably nothing, Hikaru decided. In fact, almost certainly nothing.

--Next Chapter--

CRIMSON COWL: Greeting, readers! Now I'm on the scene, and you're probably wondering what devious plot I have next as I continue my newfound rivalry with Dr. Strange. Well, you're going to have to keep wondering, because I'm not in next chapter. Instead, another boring hero is introduced in "Never Met a Girl Like You Before"! That's next chapter, people! Once again—I'm not in it.

MIROKU: I thought you said this was my turn…

HIKARU: What was I supposed to do, Miroku? He had a doomsday device…

------

Author's Notes:

I still don't own any of these characters, a situation that will most likely continue for the indefinite future, and thus continue to say to the various creators and owners—don't sue. Please.

I'm well aware that I greatly altered the origins and natures of a couple of the Masters, but—this ain't the normal universe, in either direction. Also, I'd detail exactly who created each of the Masters of Evil, but that would give away a lot things you, the reader, are supposed to guess at. I will say however, that any resemblance between Oddball and a certain pretty boy Gundam Wing pilot who seems like a warmed over Hiro Yui with a gimmick is naturally, a total coincidence. Honestly. Would I lie to you?

The song the Crimson Cowl sings is "Once in a Lifetime" by the Talking Heads. Great song.

And I'm sorry that this took such a long time to get finished. I'd say the next one would be done quicker, but there's a good chance I'd be lying.