Disclaimer: The following is a fan-written fiction, the views and opinions in this story are not intended to be viewed as those of the author. Ranma 1/2, Urusei Yatsura, Inuyasha, and Five Pound Gospel are the creations of Rumiko Takahashi, property of their respective rights holders and publishers. Please support the official releases.

CW: This story will contain violence, strong language, sexual humor and situations, drug use, Moroboshi Ataru, and Happosai. You've been warned.

|She's on the Hunt|

Okamada Kamoyo had hoped for many things: that Kodachi would be distracted by some other diversion and chase it, or she would poison herself accidentally and fall so gravely ill that she'd miss class, that Tatewaki would miraculously return to class whole and intact, that even the school would explode and crumble into rubble. None of these hopes came to pass, and so the much put-upon Vice Principal felt his blood pressure rise in slow motion as he sat across from Kodachi in his office with his desk between them.

She had gotten there before him and was sitting in his chair.

"I was not aware that you would be beginning classes today, Kodachi-san," he said at his normal slow, dead calm despite his building anxiety.

Kodachi sat with one leg folded over the other, looking sinister despite her new uniform's lack of grace. "Attending? Yes. Classes? No. There is much work to be done, Vice Principal, and you will be aiding me."

Okamada swallowed, dreading where Kodachi's pique would take him. "And what would I be aiding you in?"

"Screening the school's teachers to determine their proficiency in educating, socializing with, and disciplining the students."

Okamada stared at Kodachi, almost uncomprehending. He did not expect to hear that from the start. "I beg your pardon?"

Kodachi was happy to elaborate. "It has been brought to my attention that many of this school's struggles with delinquent behavior and low grades stem from–among other factors–a lack of morale and professionalism among the school faculty." She gestured forward to him. "You said it yourself, 'This school itself bears more than anyone its share of responsibility.'"

The Vice Principal visibly flinched as the dainty reminder struck home, before Kodachi pressed on. "Did I not say something to the effect of this school meeting my standards now that I am to be its Lady just yesterday, or has age gotten the better of your wits?"

They had not. Quite the contrary, the Vice Principal had hoped she'd forgotten as much as he wanted to. "Pardon my confusion. I did not expect you would want to discuss matters with the faculty in regard to your plans for reform–rather than the students."

Kodachi cocked her head to the right slightly. "Why would I wish to discuss reform with the students? They have done nothing wrong."

Okamada once more studied the young woman, and she met his gaze.

"I beseech you, Vice Principal, look not upon me with such eyes, as though I'm some puzzle in need of deciphering. My words are not so cryptic–already I have seen the students, now the faculty must answer for their role in this school's dire condition."

She gestured with both hands to him. "As such, you will announce that classes will be ending at lunch, so that I may hold a performance review in the cafeteria at noon today for all faculty."

Noon? Okamada saw many things wrong with that. "You are asking for a great deal in such short notice. The teachers will need time to prepare."

"You mean time to whitewash their failures and practice their groveling." Kodachi shook her head. "No, it is to be held at noon today explicitly to give them no chance to prepare themselves. There is much to explain for, and they stand to lose a great deal if their testimony is lacking."

Okamada's thoughts hung for a moment, before he slowly ground out an answer. "… I see…"

"No, you do not see," Kodachi corrected, almost gently. "If you had any such vision, then your hesitance would not be so obvious. Please, Vice Principal, explain to me your distress."

The middle-aged man weighed upon Kodachi's request, expression giving nothing away of his own thoughts as usual even as his mannerisms conveyed a deep and all-consuming anxiety beneath his professional decorum. "It is the implication that you intend to fire teachers from this school."

"Oh?" Kodachi gestured for him to elaborate with her single word response.

"Neither your brother, nor your father sought to do anything so drastic," he pointed out.

Kodachi nodded slowly. "Yes, that is true."

She leaned forward, steepling her fingers, her violet-colored eyes darkening with contempt. "Do you recall my description of St Hebereke?"

Okamada nodded, and she continued. "How it was a garden paradise–were it not for the poor quality of its crop?"

She presented her open right palm to him. "This wretched school that my family has used as a playground has the very opposite problem. Make all the excuses of bad seeds and infertile soil you want, call it a gutted ruin, neglect it, and trample it flat… what grows here yearns to flourish despite you, and claws for the light."

Placing her palms flat on Okamada's desk, she stood up and leaned forward to look down at him. "It is from YOU, the faculty, that the greatness of those who enter these halls is supposed to spring from. When your efforts produce nothing, what are you entitled to?"

It was uncanny, this girl who sat before him was a Kuno, and as mad as any other. However, he was starting to grasp that there was something drastically different that set her delusion apart from her brother, and indeed her father. She had direction, intent… and most shockingly, an awareness that others besides herself lived in her world, and that they mattered.

Another man, who held his own ambitions and aspired for greater things than himself, would be struck by Kuno Kodachi's altruism and empathy. Okamada Kamoyo, however, was no such person. He was a man whose view on society was simply to mind his own business and accept simply that which cannot be helped.

He had seen many things in his middle age, from the Student Rebellions to dislodge the ineffective monarchy selling Japan off to foreign devils, to the excess of the economic miracle that resulted from the failure to do so, to the Lost Generation that created a cultural wasteland when the miracle ended. Through it all, as the world changed, he did not change with it. He did what was correct, and acceptable: he minded his own business and embraced the role of the consummate cog in the machine of Japan's society that would tear him apart without a care otherwise.

"Forgive me for misspeaking." Defer, demure, deflect, degrade, and most importantly–dismiss that this child thought she could change anything, but quietly. "You are correct; this school's faculty leaves much to be desired."

"Indeed?" Kodachi's saccharine response tickled and sparked a color of pink amusement in the air. "And should those who have failed this school and its students be allowed to keep their jobs?"

"They will not go quietly." Okamada noted.

The sugary sweetness vacated the air with the return of Kodachi's tone to its harsh depths. "Yet they will go, if they must."

"… As you wish." Okamada muttered, placid, serene.

"No, as I will," Kodachi corrected. "This is not a mere flight of fancy I will abandon in a contrary fit; there is far too much to do, and what transpires today is but the first step."

She posed, dramatically, hands crossed above her head. "I will make this school so great it will shame the entire world in their galling inferiority."

Were he a man, a man who only wanted to fix what had gone wrong, Okamada Kamoyo would have been brought to his knees. Were he capable of caring, of believing in the better iof nature and the betterment of his fellow human beings, he would burst into tears at the conviction. Were he anything approaching a living entity, he would be moved by this display to the point of losing himself in a mania.

Yet all he was, all that he wanted to be, was a cog in the machine. And cogs did not have feelings. "Well, I hope you the best on this endeavor."

Kodachi did not care that he didn't react, she already had a plan for what to do with him. "Thank you. Now carry out this task I set out for you. I will prepare as well."

"Yes, I shall have to break the news gently to them. Many of them are long term employees who will dislike this very much." He shuffled out of the office before she could respond, a fitting maneuver for a coward absent of a will of his own.

She side-eyed the door to the office, then turned away as she stewed on the Vice Principal's utterly mechanical passive-aggression.

"Is there anyone here that even pretends?" She asked herself as her thoughts turned to recollection.

"They're truly among the non-living." Kodachi said, looking into the makeshift pen housing most of the alleged boys who attended Furinkan. "There is no light, no life… it is as if the concept of hope is alien to them."

"These are the consequences of stupid, stupid actions," Nabiki said, looking not with disgust but a passive emptiness, as if looking at the wreck of a fleet of ships dashed upon the shore. "Some of these guys never even fought her; she just hit them so hard with the truth bomb they got caught up in the blast."

"Her words carry that much power?" Kodachi was more curious as to how she could do this.

Nabiki looked away for a moment, to gather her thoughts, before turning a bored look on Kodachi. "It's not that big of a surprise. Not every guy is born with lots of money, or a childhood friend who only exists to be the female lead in their slice of life manga romance. These guys were just guys with no romantic prospects to look forward to for whatever reason. Then along comes a super pretty girl who likes martial arts but is also really nice. Akane was pretty much like a goddess to them."

"They held her in such regard, but then mercilessly attacked her?" Kodachi ventured.

"They had to make a call between the guy who bodied all the hooligans who ran this school, and the pretty but tough girl who was super nice," Nabiki went on. "Beating your brother? Impossible. But maybe Akane would play along, or maybe one would get a lucky hit in, and she was so nice that she'd forgive them once they proved their worth to Kuno, or after they were free to date her and show how much they actually cared about her."

"… Not even realizing that attacking her over and over made her simply hate them," Kodachi toned.

"Yeah, they ignored the truth until it caught up with them, rubbed itself all over their face and wouldn't let them run away anymore. There was no 'making it up to her,' and 'ensuring she's the happiest girl in history' didn't cut it. At the very least, she's disciplined enough in her martial arts to not kill any of them."

"How skilled is she?"

"More than they could handle. She was taking lessons before men decided to violently court her."

"And this all just happened? The teachers did nothing?" Kodachi sounded baffled by the idea of it.

"Beyond your brother being the mastermind, the teachers would have to give a shit to want to intervene. At best, they'd shake a fist and yell, but there'd be no detentions or anything that'd be worth mentioning." Nabiki shook her head. "The teachers here all hate us, and we hate them back."

Kodachi, used to the caring and attentive teachers-who enjoyed salaries the envy of the entire community-seemed lost at the idea. "But..."

Nabiki looked around and asked a sharp question. "If you didn't know the truth, would you ever guess your family had invested anything into this place?"

"Sadly, yes."

Her recollection fading, Kodachi looked out the window of Okamada's office. Being on the third floor, it provided an ample view of the Nerima Skyline, and the rest of Tokyo beyond the walls that stripped them of their nationality.

"Nay. Not the teachers, not our former countrymen… not even the world."

She shook her head.

"It is truly wretched."

A knock on the door drew her attention and she turned to it. "Yes, come in."

Nabiki entered. "You asked for me and the check cleared. What's on the menu today?"

Kodachi gave a toothy, smart grin. "Most excellent, there is much to do."

Had it not been for the incident with Tomobiki, this walk wouldn't have been so long or treacherous. The former because Katie and Akane could have cut straight through the neighborhood that school stood in, and the latter because walking in the shadows of ivory towers would always bring mixed feelings. Butsumetsu was a neighborhood both very downtrodden and yet nice to look at.

Modern western designed office buildings and businesses clashed with humble houses straight out of the early days of the postwar reconstruction. But even more anachronistic was the streams of boys marching about in perfect gang formations, many looking like they were born in a gakuran and would be buried in it.

Akane looked pensive, just because recent history showed there were some shoes waiting to drop.

Katie was in better spirits, mainly because they didn't have to behave in the hopes of patronizing this area. In fact, kicking ass was a currency and brother, she was a Forbes 500 businesswoman in every way, shape, and form.

The punks ignored them until they got closer to Butsumetsu High, passing its affiliated middle school on the way. Murmurs started and more than a few guys looked their way, but none were looking for a fight. In fact, they all seemed... shy almost, as if they'd not seen a woman who wasn't related to them or a teacher in their lives before. Sad.

Just down the street from the foreboding, barbed wire topped wall of the high school, the pair entered an empty lot beaten down upon by the sun except for the shade provided by the gutted remains of a three-story building at the back of it. Hanging around were the core of the Butsumetsu Gang–tough delinquents ranging from first year of high school to a little past third, smoking cigarettes, playing with misappropriated handheld games and phones, or just lazing about in general because there was nothing better to do on a warm spring day.

Like all the other boys in the run-down neighborhood, the appearance of two young women in the lot caught attention and many eyes fell upon Katie and Akane–but this time, there was stillness. Not a single movement, just a reverberating tension that filled the air but was far from hostile.

That changed when one adventurous punk hanging out at the edge of the lot's shade, his greasy slicked back black hair shining in the sun, stepped up. "Oi, oi! What are you two thinkin', just walking up in here like it's some amusement park, eh?"

Akane rolled her eyes and prepared to snark back at him for his impudence but jumped back when a fat paw-like hand emerged from the shadows and clamped down hard on the shoulder of the boy.

"Hey, Slick, show a little respect to ladies," Soban warned slowly in his deep, rough voice.

Katie looked up into the shadows at the hideously ugly, extremely large sunglasses-wearing man, and wondered silently to herself. Shit… is he an alien?

A shorter boy, with a curly perm hairdo, stepped out of the shadow of the large young man's left arm, making an admonishing sound while shaking his head. "Yeah, we don't go accosting young women, especially these two."

Slick squirmed under Soban's grip. "All right, all right, I'm sorry, boss!"

Curly patted Soban on the arm. "He's not gonna make any trouble, you can let go Boss."

Soban let go and withdrew his hand into the shadows, before he gestured for two more boys to come over. "Sorry about that."

Slick flinched and not from the lingering pain of being gripped by his Boss. "No, I shoulda been polite." He bowed to the girls. "S-sorry about that, ladies, y-you have a nice day."

"Go wash your face or something, ya look like shit." Curly suggested, as the boys came to make sure Slick would be able to walk off his faux pas. "Let the Boss 'n me handle tha guests."

Slick was helped off, looking ashamed of everything, and Curly turned to the girls. "Hey, g'mornin', sorry about that guy–he's new."

Akane, ever the polite one, bowed. "It's okay, and good morning to you as well."

"Yeah, howdy," Katie greeted without such formality. "I'm Katie, and this here is Tendo Akane, we're from Furinkan and we came to ask you guys some questions."

Curly folded his arms. "What about?"

Katie looked at Curly, then at Soban, then at Akane–who returned the look with a shrug–before she shrugged her own shoulders and addressed the two. "Some friends of ours got worked something fierce last night and we were just wondering if y'all knew anything about it?"

Curly looked at his boss first. Soban nodded, and he turned back to their guests. "We ain't heard anything about anyone getting jumped last night." He replied before he asked his own questions. "Where was this? Who got hit?"

"Near the border of Furinkan and Tomobiki, straight west from the school," Katie answered. "Because they've already felt froggish and leaped on up their own asses about us helping out, we ain't sayin' who it was outta respect."

"That definitely wasn't us," Curly answered.

Soban agreed. "Nope, none of our guys were there."

Katie hummed. "I thought so. I heard you guys don't go out at night."

Curly confirmed that. "We sure don't."

"Why not?" Akane asked.

Soban gave a shrug. "Dinner."

"Dinner?" Akane repeated.

"We come by the old Butsu Middle School gym for dinner, a couple lil' ol' lunch ladies there feed us and let us crash there," Curly said, looking a little ashamed. "Ain't like a lot of us can just go home."

Akane looked upset. "Oh..."

"Don't be sad… I look after 'em, it's what I do." Soban said.

Curly put in a good word for his boss. "He ain't too bright but he's the best a lot of us got… even before the walls came up." He turned back towards where Slick had been led away. "The new guy who tried to get fresh witcha just got thrown out by his family like a puppy that got too big. Story of our lives."

"It's bein' taken care of," Soban said. "He'll learn."

Akane looked around among the other guys, some looking annoyed, and others even a little sad as they were reminded of their less-than-ideal home lives. Sure, they were delinquents… but she couldn't help but feel a little bad for them.

Katie shared her kouhai's sympathy but did not want to lose the plot. "Are there other reasons to not go out at night?" She asked. "I ain't makin' any insinuations, just wanting to be clear. There's plenty of reasons to not wanna be out and about after dark since this place got sad."

"True that," Soban agreed. "Better to be in at night to see another day."

Curly likewise nodded assent. "It's always been bad around here at night, but the last couple weeks have been pretty troublesome."

That long? Akane thought, before she spoke. "How troublesome?"

"Just punks, guys who ain't with us mind ya, bein' found pounded like mochi on New Year's mornin'," he went on. "We've been havin' beef with some peacocks runnin' they mouth saying they're the ones responsible–"

"Heh, peaCOCK," Soban said with a short laugh.

Curly, some of the boys, and Katie all shared a chuckle with him, before Soban's right hand continued. "But they're just some new punks, tryna make a name. No one's seen any of 'em further than the combini down the road from their turf since this started, except the one time they came out to fight us, and that was in broad daylight."

He shook his head. "Ain't no way they'd have done it, but they keep talking and people keep turnin' up all beat ta shit."

Akane grumbled. "So… some flashy Taian idiots claiming to be the troublemakers?" She pulled a disgusted grimace. "… Oh no, not Pick-Up Martial Artists."

"Our man here is right," Katie said of Curly. "It definitely ain't them, but they may know a thing or two otherwise. We'll pay them a visit next." She looked up at Soban. "Hey, King Caesar."

Soban let out a brief chuckle at that. "Yeah?"

"You've been around the block plenty 'nuff, right?" She asked.

Soban nodded. "Yeah."

"Ever hear anything about guys in black leather going around, startin' shit?"

Soban went still where he sat and stared off into the distance. Katie tilted her head to one side, shared another look with Akane, before turning to Curly and his boss. A low growl rumbled from Soban's throat, before he reached up and lightly scratched the side of his head; he'd been thinking hard.

"Nah."

All for naught.

Curly shook his head. "I've never heard of any guys in leather runnin' around. You mean like bikers or something?"

Katie shrugged her shoulders. "The only thing else I got for you is that they had all kinds of weapons."

"Nah," Soban repeated. "I got nothin'."

"Well, shoot, so much for that," she lamented. "Hey, but still, we are so much obliged for your cooperation."

"No problem," Soban replied. "You're good eggs."

Akane was relieved. "I'm surprised we didn't have to fight for this, actually."

"Honestly, me too," Katie agreed.

"We're pretty dumb, but still smart enough to know some battles ain't worth fightin'," Curly assured. "We saw you two in action a while back, after all."

Akane looked confused.

"Ah, and there it is," Katie said, "You've seen us go off."

"Yeah, when you smashed the Shining Killers," Soban admitted.

Katie turned to her kouhai. "Told ya it wasn't just the drones peepin'."

Akane could now better understand the tension around here when they showed up. That a band of tough guys like this thought better of messing with her and Katie felt… nice.

"We don't want beef," Soban went on. "So, I wanna make a deal."

Katie and Akane were both intrigued by this offer. "What is it?" The latter asked.

Curly was just as surprised to hear the boss offer a deal. "What deal, boss you haven't said anything about a–" Soban looked down at Curly, and he immediately shut up.

Satisfied, Soban addressed the girls. "Let's be bros."

Katie tilted her head and rested her hands on her hips. "An alliance."

"Yeah," Soban said. "You got trouble, you call us. We got trouble, we call you. Nothin' special, just watching each other's backs."

"That's mighty neighborly of you," Katie complimented. "I can see us working together, especially if things are about to get weird 'round here." She extended her hand to Soban. "Let's shake on it."

Soban hummed in agreement, and he extended his own massive mitt to all but envelop hers in a firm shake. "Get Curly's number, he's the one guy here who's got a phone with a plan."

"Yeah, I'll be in touch for anything, I guess," Curly was a bit iffy about his boss's decision, but he wasn't gonna question it.

Katie chuckled. "Yeah, and the best part is you get a girl's number."

More laughter spread among the rest of the gang, and Curly's face flushed as he held out his phone to share contact info with Katie.

With numbers exchanged, the two left the den of the Butsumetsu Gang. Once more the received a wide berth on their way out–but word seemed to have spread fast among the rest of the disenfranchised students, as instead of wary looks or leers, Katie and Akane were recipients of respectful nods and quick salutes on their way back to their side of the tracks.

"I'm so glad that went better than I thought it would," Akane admitted.

"That's because you can't get by on these streets with strength by itself. Sometimes it's better to know when to fight than how to fight, and those guys got that down to a science," Katie said, before she shook her head. "Shame it won't be that easy every time, huh?"

"Ugh, yes…" Akane's shoulders fell. "Especially with those Taian idiots."

Katie had heard of the Host Club Martial Artists, and even tangled with a few in her exploration of post SAD Taian when she first came to live in Nerima. They were nothing to write home about, just jumped-up dojo dorks impressing people with their kicks so high. She did not like them, that was no lie.

"Fighting scrubs is never fun," Katie agreed.

"It's not just that," Akane said. "A lot of the hosts are former students of my Dad's."

Katie paused. "… Hold on, they're what?"

Akane closed her eyes and sighed. "A lot of the stuff hosts run around doing is based off the Tendo School of Indiscriminate Grappling, because my Dad used to be their teacher before my Mom passed away and he eventually lost the heart to train or do anything anymore."

Opening her eyes, she shook her head at Katie. "It's infuriating to see my style used by scrubs like it's street magic to impress women. So excuse me if having to deal with these guys has my blood already boiling, senpai."

"Nah girl, it's cool." Katie reassured her. "I don't care too much for those pretty boys, anyway. Ain't no way no how they're gonna treat us with half the decency Soban and his boys showed us when we go asking around, so get ready for a fight."

Akane liked the prospect of that already. "You think so?"

"I know so. Them scummy guys are gonna be obnoxious as all hell and the only way I can stand those types is when it's on their necks." She folded her arms across her chest and nodded sharply with that.

Akane giggled at Katie's enthusiasm for violence. "So… what types of guys do you like?"

"Hm?" Katie shrugged her shoulders. "Just like girls, I like 'em cute."

Once more she laughed. "You are kind of like those girls in anime, you know. The big, tough girls who actually like cute things."

Katie nodded. "Yeah! Like Sakaki in Azumanga Daioh, right?"

Akane furrowed her brow. "… I guess? That one's pretty old and I've never seen it."

Katie opened her mouth to explain when she realized the futility in it. She looked to the side, her face coloring as her Americanism had been exposed. "… Yeah, I guess it is…"

Giggling, Akane sidled over and bumped her hip to Katie's. "Still, I think it's cute."

Her hands coming to her cheeks, Katie swooned from Akane's praise. "You just made my day, Akaneko."

A/N: Appointments and alliances made! Let's hope the rest of the day goes this well (it won't). Much thanks to my pal Anonguy for getting this done.