Lord Cynic: "We're baaaaack!"

Mashu: "Do I have to be here?"

Lord Cynic: (growls) "Yes, because you feature in this series from now on."

Mashu: "Oh, cool! Who am I?"

Lord Cynic: "The annoying sidekick, that's who."

Mashu: "Bugger it, I'm going back to bed."

Lord Cynic: (whacks him with a plank of wood) "No you don't! Now do the disclaimer!"

Mashu: (mutters) "Prick…"

Mashu: "Lord Cynic doesn't own Chrno Crusade. He couldn't make stuff like that if he tried."

Lord Cynic: "Shut your face!"

Mashu: "Just telling the truth…"

Burning Questions

"It's fake, isn't it?"

Two oddly clad figures wandered fruitlessly through the streets of Brooklyn, in the city of New York of 1924. As strangers on the sidewalk strolled past, several of them performed double takes to gawk at the young men. For the most part, they had a good reason to.

One of the teenagers, somebody possibly perceived as the nerd, wore medium-size spectacles over his hazel eyes that appeared to be sliding down his nose every two minutes. He wore a thick woollen sweater that was positively absurd in the humid weather, as well as being at least three sizes too large for him, three-quarter jeans that were quickly fading, and a particularly grotesque beanie on top of his otherwise boofy black hair. To complete the bizarre get-up, he sported black dress shoes that suited the rest of him like gloves on his ears (but that was crazy, especially when they were already covered by bottle caps). Overall, not only did he look like the ultimate retard, but unfit for own his era, let alone the one he was currently situated in.

Thankfully, his slightly taller friend has a somewhat better dress sense, but by the slimmest of margins. He donned a loose leather jacket and spiked gloves, accompanied by brown cargo pants and worn out sneakers. His short, spiky hair was bleached, but from someone else's perspective, it looked like he'd just dunked his head in a tub of paint and hung himself out to dry. He also wore sunglasses, disguising resentful light brown eyes that glared at everyone who so much as glanced at him the wrong way.

After the seventh child was sent away screaming, the nerd turned irritably to the punk wannabe. His left eye twitched with annoyance – well, behind the additional eye patch that he wore.

"Why do you have that freaky get-up on, anyway?" he asked, eyeing the punk wannabe's less-than-trendy attire. His accent was nasally, and rather deep for his age. "You look like you just got out of jail… or broke out."

"At least I don't look like I should be in jail," his companion retorted, earning him a scowl. The punk wannabe's voice was slightly deeper than the nerds, and with the tiniest tinge of the local American accent. "Hell, at least I look human."

The nerd raised an eyebrow at his colleague, who failed to apprehend the irony in his comment. Realising that the punk wannabe wouldn't get it, he sighed wearily and surveyed their surroundings. People were still staring at the odd pair, and it was starting to piss them off. Damn, he thought. Well, bugger it; if they want a spectacle, we'll give them one.

"Hey, Cynic," he muttered to the punk, "let 'em see your wings."

"What?" 'Cynic' spat incredulously, ignoring the started gasps of their impromptu audience. "Mashu, are you crazy? Wait, don't answer that."

"C'mon, humour me." 'Mashu' glared slightly. "You didn't have any problems doing it last time we were here."

"I'm still astounded that we came back in the first place," Cynic muttered. Noticing that Mashu's glare wasn't wilting, he sighed exasperatedly. "Pfft… fine." He took a deep breath, and, with much graphic detail, large, tattered wings spread out from inside his back. "There, are you ha… ppy…"

Upon seeing his extra, hideous bodily features, the whole street began to scream and run a disorganised riot. Cynic glanced around to look for Mashu, only to realise that, in the mayhem, he had managed to escape, leaving Cynic to fend for himself.

"Oh, shit…"

A nerd with horrendous fashion sense dashed into an alley, breathing with heavy exhaustion. His beanie sat lopsidedly on top of his untidy black hair, and his spectacles were sprawled on his face. However, he possessed an aura of satisfaction that only came with leaving a friend to get the short end of the stick. Even though he knew he was going to get his ass kicked later, he could at least relax and relish the moment.

Mashu looked around uncertainly, checking to see if anyone was watching him. Once he was satisfied that he wasn't being stalked, he fished through a pocket of his grossly out-of-place sweater. The contents he proceeded to remove included his wallet full of game store receipts, a few cotton balls, three used cotton wads, several mouldy tissues and a live rat. He launched the rat over a fence with a well-placed kick, and waited until he heard the squeal of terrified girls before smirking widely. The same smug, stupid smile on his dorky face, he finally managed to withdraw a graphic novel from his hideous sweater.

"Tsk," he said flippantly, flicking through its pages, "even being a demon has its downfalls. Poor, pathetic sod. I'm glad I'm not one myself."

"I'm sure you are," a menacing voice said behind him. Mashu blanched, perturbed, and spun around to discover an irate, eye-twitching Cynic glowering at him. "I could forgive you for leaving me to get trampled by a hoard of stampeding idiots, but… DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF!"

"Well," Mashu began, choosing his words carefully, "my copy's in the wash."

Cynic sweatdropped. "I'm not even doing to dignify that with an answer." He looked around sceptically. "Mashu, just where the hell are we?"

Mashu ignored him, however, and poked his head out of the alley. A vein throbbed in Cynic's forehead as he thought about hanging the shorter boy on a lamppost by his underwear. However, he was denied the opportunity when Mashu sprinted into the street. Cynic shouted nasty obscenities, making more little children wail in the process. He blanched under the death glares of their mothers, before running to follow his nerdy counterpart.

Cynic eventually caught up to Mashu in front of a bakery. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and when Mashu nodded his head to the window of the store, he peered curiously through the class. A sweatdrop slid down the back of his head as he watched two kids rushing from counter to counter, tray to tray. One of them, a hyperactive, blonde-haired girl (in nun's clothing?) was drooling excessively and trying to cram as many pastries in her mouth as humanly possible. Her eyes are large, blue and round with greed as she looted the bakery dry of its assets, until they narrowed and glared at the boy trying to haul her off. He wasn't having much success however, and Cynic smirked as he was continually swatted off. Well, no wonder, when he was at least six inches shorter than the girl he was trying to excavate by force. But his hair was quite unique. Not only was it so long that it was tied in braids, but it was purple, violet even.

Cynic nearly gagged in disgust, but he was promptly silenced by a chop to the back of the head by Mashu. The punk wannabe scowled and rubbed his aching scalp, but was denied retaliation once more when he was pulled back into an alley. Mashu eyed him warningly, and slid along the wall for Lord knows what reason. Suddenly, the nerd disappeared into the street without a word, leaving the half-demon to stare bewilderedly at the location Mashu had once occupied mere moments ago. However, he returned almost as quickly, heaving two large cages behind him – with the kids, he and Cynic had seen earlier.

"What the hell?" he blurted unceremoniously. "Mashu, what the hell are you doing? And who are these brats? (Said children scowled.)"

"Just shut up and know your role, jabroni," Mashu replied harshly, indicating the perplexed kids watching from inside their cages. "We don't want to get caught before we can even begin, do we?" he continued, lowering his voice so only he and Cynic could hear.

Cynic blanched and paled at the same time, remembering the mess that occurred last time, when he and Mashu claimed to be survey specialists. They'd managed to foil everyone with their guises and adopted identities, until he'd accidentally revealed that he was a demon. Well, not quite, he was a half-demon, and not really qualified to be a full-fledged one. Damn demon promotion committee… just because he set fire to his own tail while sleeping on the job…

"Oy! Humanity to stupidity!" a sharp voice hissed, awakening him from his thoughts. Mashu was glaring at him, and dressed in a police uniform. He'd completed it with a police hat, to give him a 'bad cop' impression (or so the pitiful loser thought). "Hurry up or they'll realise what we're doing and break out of their cages!"

"Oh, okay," Cynic replied, clicking his fingers and replacing his punk outfit with contemporary police attire like Mashu's. However, he would be damned if he was wearing a hat. Suddenly, a sudden thought struck Cynic like a ton of bricks. "Wait a minute. Mashu, you still haven't told me what you're doi -"

However, a heavy wooden door slammed closed behind him, marking Mashu's departure. Cynic fumed furiously, and said only one word as he followed suit.

"Ass-"

"-hole," Mashu growled as he dumped the cages on a sturdy, oak desk. He'd decided to make things easier for himself by sedating the inhabitants of the steel structures. Coincidentally, that also had the strange, concurrent effect of making them lighter. That was probably defying the law of physics, bur whatever.

He watched the boy and girl sleep in their individual containments. Despite the rambunctious and awful snores coming from the female (he really couldn't tell if she was human or beast), they were such… peaceful, and poor, pathetic creatures. They really had no idea what was in store for them. They were unaware of the one event that would affect them for near eternity. The way they saw each other would never be the same again.

For some reason, that provoked maniacal laughter from Mashu.

"Haha… hahaha… hahahahaha… muwahahahahahahahaha -"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Mashu nearly choked, ruing the fact that he'd forgotten he wouldn't be alone for too long. However, he managed to regain composure in front of his half-inhuman counterpart. Even if Cynic was a wanker, he was still necessary for the objective. Besides, any scapegoat at the end was going to be useful.

"About time you showed up," he replied, ignoring the increasing number of anger veins on Cynic's forehead. "I'm going to wake them up now, so be prepared."

Cynic snorted, but nonetheless pulled up a chair and munched on stale popcorn (damned if anyone knew how it got there). Mashu raised an eyebrow at him, but was greeted with a finger, so he threw a boulder at him.

"OWW! You son of a -"

"They're awake now," Mashu deadpanned before Cynic could finish his sentence. He nodded to the cages, where its captives were beginning to stir. "Let's get them ready," he said, groaning and stretching from his standing position.

Cynic blinked, his mouth full of popcorn (dirty slob), but nodded cooperatively and complied.

"At last, the prey has been prepared," Mashu muttered, a psychotic glint in his eyes. "Heheheheheheh… just leave it to me."

"You better hope that this works," Cynic growled. "I was in the middle of my breakfast before you summoned me here."

"Breakfast, at eight in the morning?"

"Bite me!"

"How hard and where?"

"I'll take you down, damnit!"

"Just don't hurt yourself like last time, okay?"

"Damn you!"

"HEY! WHERE AM I?"

The bickering boys gulped nervously, twisting their heads around to the source of the outburst. The girl was wide-awake, and definitely pissed off. To Mashu and Cynic's horror, she was also already biting through her ropes, with every intention of kicking their asses.

"Hey, wait a minute," Mashu began, trying to buy time. "Can't you at least wait until Chrono's awake?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" the girl screamed, making her abductors cringe. "Hey, how do you know his name?" she inquired, brows furrowing in frustration.

"I know more than I can cope with, Rosette Christopher," the nerd sighed, ignoring the perturbed expressions on his peers' faces. "Anyway, how do we wake your friend?"

"Just leave it to me," Rosette replied confidently. Immediately afterwards, she bonked her skull on Chrono's. "Wake up!"

Mashu and Cynic stared, mortified and wide-eyed, as Chrono wobbled and collapsed sideways in his seat – while still bound with the rope. Rosette huffed and wriggled free of her own ropes, then straightened up and dusted herself off. Chrono wasn't even given an opportunity to recover before being yanked forcefully out of his position on the floor and onto his feet. At the same time, the foreign boys continued to stare incredulously at the scene developing before them.

'She's worse than he is…' they thought, thinking of their counterparts.

Suddenly, they were fixed with two pairs of eyes: one crimson pair, curious but nervous, the other azure, impatient and temperamental. Chrono and Rosette were waiting for whatever it was that Cynic and Mashu wanted with them. Actually, so was Cynic, when it came down to it…

"Your audience," he muttered sideways to his mortal equivalent. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I'll try to play along."

Mashu nodded slowly and sceptically, and pushed his hat down so his face was half-shrouded in darkness. He approached the table, biding his time and concocting an opening statement. It had to be sharp, concise and straight to the point. At the same time, he had to be subtle, careful and delicate with his victims – er, audience. But how to achieve it…

"Chrono!" he yelled suddenly, making everyone jump. Ah, screw it. He didn't know subtlety from subzero. "You have a secret you've been hiding from everyone, don't you?"

"H-Huh?" Chrono stammered awkwardly. "What do you me – ah, Rosette!"

"Is that true?" Rosette hissed. "You've been hiding things? From moi?"

"N-No!"

"Then why are you nervous?"

"Well… um…"

"Ahem!"

Heads turned to Cynic, who was growing more confused and frustrated with every passing minute. Mashu realised, with alarm, that the half-demon's horns were developing from his irritation, so he continued his interrogation – the only way he knew how.

"It's fake, isn't it?" he asked in a low voice.

"What is?" Chrono asked, thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I always wondered why you never tripped over it," Mashu continued, walking casually towards the desk which Rosette and Chrono occupied. "What's your secret?"

"I… I don't…"

"Tell us, damnit!" A fist pounded on the wooden table – Cynic's. Everyone stared at him disdainfully, and he lowered his head. "Er… Mashu, you take it from here."

"I believe I shall," Mashu replied with an untraceable edge of spite in his voice. He returned his stoic gaze to Chrono. "Well? What's your excuse?"

"Wait a minute!" Rosette interrupted. "Just what are you trying to prove?"

"This!" Suddenly, Mashu leapt across the table and pulled at Chrono's braided hair. "Come off, damnit! Come off!"

"Oww!"

"What are you doing?" Rosette shrieked, coming to Chrono's aid. "Let him go!"

Finally, albeit reluctantly, Chrono was released from Mashu's death grip. The violet-haired boy whimpered as he held his braids tenderly, then glared at his assailant. Cynic and Rosette too frowned at him; the former because of the strife he knew would follow Mashu's actions, the latter because Chrono was her way of venting frustration.

"What's your problem?" Rosette snapped, as Cynic tried to hold her back. "Just what do you want with – hey, where are you going?"

I guess not, Mashu mused, proceeding towards the exit. However, he was head butted from behind before he could make his getaway. "Oww! That hurt, damnit!"

"Then mission accomplished!" Chrono growled, as a dark aura surrounded him. At the same time, the strange pocket watch around Rosette's neck began shaking. "Don't even think you can assault me without paying the price!"

"Chrono! Don't!" Rosette cried above the increasing din.

"Run, you idiot!" Cynic yelled at Mashu as he streaked past him towards the door.

"Shit!" his colleague cursed as he too attempted to avoid an ass-kicking from an enraged demon.

"Oh no you don't!" fully-formed Chrono bellowed as he pelted a ball of energy at the escapees. Cynic was just turning the doorknob when the scene became flooded in a blinding light.

"Holy crap!"

Mashu bolted up in his seat, revealing a red mark on his forehead from his sleeping. His outburst and newly-formed tattoo raised a few eyebrows and titters from the other kids in the room, which he routinely ignored. Growling in frustration, he gathered up his books while the teacher rambled on like the disruption had never occurred. He then glanced at his watch and groaned inwardly.

"Ugh… still 15 minutes left until the end of class," he grumbled before slamming his head back on the graphic novel he was using as a pillow. His head just barely covered the title of the makeshift cushion: Chrono Crusade.

Mashu: "What the hell…"

Lord Cynic: (frowning) "What?"

Mashu: "You practically turned us into Yuki and Kyo Sohma from Fruits Basket."

Lord Cynic: (raises an eyebrow) "That's a problem?"

Mashu: "Totally lack of original, that's what! … Stupid cat…"

Lord Cynic: "Damn rat…"