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"idiotidiotidiotidiotJERKidiotidiotidiotJACKASSidiotidiot..." The woman's unending, repetitive monologue was too quiet for any of the few other pedestrians to hear as she stalked down the sidewalk. Unlike most of the others, she did not cling to the circles of light cast by the too-far-apart street lamps, instead marching in the shadows without the slightest sign of fear. Perhaps this wasn't so surprising, as any accomplished student of the martial arts could tell from the way she walked that she was a master of those arts. Any mugger or rapist that approached her would almost certainly find that he had far more to fear than her.

As she reached a dark intersection, the woman hesitated. Muttering a few vulgarities under her breath that were just loud enough for the man passing her to hear, and therefore decide to hasten his walk, she straightened her too-short skirt, trying to push it down to cover a fraction more of her bare, chilled legs. Why, she wondered, were the targets never women, so she could force that idiot to play the bait instead?

She had to restrain herself from glancing about to try and find him. It would do no good - how the jerk could hide so well, she could never figure out - and it might just tip off some theoretical sentry she hadn't noticed that she was something other than she appeared to be. The last thought almost set off another round of cursing, as what she would appear to be was a prostitute, one who was just a bit too high-class for this district.

Shivering again as a cold wind reminded her just how little her ridiculously scanty outfit covered, she forced herself to appear somewhat calm - though not too much. Given that a number of her theoretical co-workers had vanished in the past few weeks, seeming too nonchalant might tip the targets off just as much as seeming too angry. Still, she would give that jerk another piece of her mind when tonight was over, just in case he hadn't gathered that she was displeased with his plan to sniff out the targets by the way she had given him a few painful bruises when he had first suggested it.

With a long suffering sigh, she continued on her meandering path through this particularly shady district. None of the few out tonight seemed inclined to try and purchase the wares she was offering, much to her relief. After some time, something prickled on the back of her neck as she was about to turn down yet another dark, litter-strewn street. She resisted the urge to tense. doing her best to look as though she hadn't felt anything. This was it.

As she walked down the street, six figures seemed to materialize from the shadows, surrounding her. For a few instants they looked indistinct, but as the approached they solidified, and she could make out the features of the one closest to her. She had to struggle to avoid showing a fierce grin when her keen night vision noted the pale complexion and red-tinted eyes. Bingo.

That one approached her, and the others closed ranks to avoid leaving a gap in their circle. "Well, what have we here?" he asked, a smirk gracing his unnaturally pale lips.

The woman snorted. "A businesswoman. Do you fellows have a transaction in mind?"

The leader laughed. "I think we do." He moved with alarming swiftness, darting forward and grasping the woman in a tight but inexpert hold. "Though, maybe not what you would like." He paused, seeming to consider. "Though, maybe we'll do that too." One of his hands snaked down between the woman's legs.

Her eye twitched. Damned if she was going to wait for Kumada now. Even as the man's hand began to reach up her skirt, she brought her muscular thighs together in one swift motion. She smiled as she heard the snap of bones breaking.

The man gasped in pain, releasing his hold and trying fruitlessly to extract his shattered hand. "Bitch," he grunted, and his eyes began to glow a soft crimson, and when he opened his mouth again long fangs were visible. The woman averted her gaze to avoid being caught be the hypnotic glow, instead bringing up one knee into the vampire's groin. She had long since discovered that this move was as effective on undead men as living ones, and felt as surge of satisfaction as the bloodsucker doubled over in pain.

All this had taken only a handful of seconds, and the other vampires were just beginning to react, extracting their own fangs. The woman kicked one of her ridiculously high heels off, sending itself spinning through the air to hit a vampire's face heel first. She soon slipped out of the other shoe, settling into a fighting stance. "Well?" she asked. "What are you boys waiting for?"

One of the vampires leapt at her, only to recoil as a length of wood sprouted from his chest. He shriveled and shrunk, his dark hair lightening to white as he seemed to age centuries in seconds. The withered corpse hung in the air for what seemed far too long before plopping to the ground with a loud thunk. Vampiric eyes darted about, searching to find the source of the deadly projectile.

They soon found it, as a man who had seemingly appeared from nowhere walked nonchalantly down the street, a wooden stake spinning in either hand. As he neared, he tossed one in an easy arc to the woman, saying, "Catch, 'Kane."

Akane growled as she effortlessly snagged the stake in midair, slipping past a vampire who leapt to try and grab it. "How many times," she said as she plunged it into that vampire's heart, "do I have to tell you not to call me that, Kumada!"

"Sorry," he replied in a not-very-penitent tone of voice.

A few moments later, no vampire remained standing. The man walked over to the one who Akane had first dealt with, who had remained lying on the ground throughout the whole fight. He lifted him up in one hand, pushing the undead up against a nearby wall. "Tell me everything you know about the Count!"

"W-who?" he stuttered, and the man slammed the vampire's head into the wall.

"Surely you don't think I'll believe you've never heard of our fair city's vampiric yakuza boss? Spill the beans, now!" He punctuated the sentence with another painful shove.

"I... I was just a college student! I don't know anything about the yakuza!" The man grunted in disgust. "I'm... I'm just a few days old! I haven't killed anyone! Please, don't hurt me!"

"Who was your sire?"

"D-Damien!"

The man glanced at the vampiric corpses. "Which one?"

Akane glanced at the corpses and swore as she counted them. "One's missing, Kumada."

He swore as well. "I be that the one we're missing. Well, bloodsucker?"

"I... I don't see him. I can help you find him! Just don't kill me!"

"What do you think, 'Kane?" he asked, ignoring the vampire's pleas.

"My sister would give you even odds that this Damien was one of the Count's lieutenants, maybe trying to set up a separate power base of his own. We'll have to assume the Count knows we're in town now."

"You're right. We'll have to get going before Damien can bring back reinforcements."

"W-What about me?" the captive vampire asked.

Another stake materialized in the man's hand, and he carefully positioned it over the undead's heart. "When you join your bloodsucking kin in Hell, tell them Kumada Yuuichiro and Tendo Akane sent you. You'll get the group rate."


He's an uncontrollable guitar-strumming vampire hunter on a mission from God. She's a virginal punk bodyguard prone to fits of savage, blood-crazed rage. They fight crime!

It's.... the Adventures of Yuuichiro and Akane, coming soon in an alternate dimension near you.


Disclaimer: Ranma is Rumiko Takahashi's. Sailor Moon is Naoko Takeuchi's. The blame for this is all mine.

For a tiny bit more explanation as to where this came from, see:
They Fight Crime!