Some explanations on what you're hopefully about to read: As for when this story takes place, I'm not sure.  I guess I'll just leave this up in the air, since I wasn't worried about continuity at all when writing this.  A lot of people may think Raiha is a little out of character, but I have two reasons for this.  1.)This is supposed to be based on manga Raiha, but since I never read any of the manga, I might not be getting him right, and 2.)Even ninjas have their breaking points.  About Kagero's karaoke, well, I figured since she's been around for a couple hundred years, she must have a few guilty pleasures.  And the song she's singing is "You Get to Burning", the theme from Martian Successor Nadesico.  Concerning Neon's cooking, well, I'm not sure if she's actually a wonderful cook, but for the sake of comedy, I took a few liberties.  The game Mikoto was playing was what I think is called Mumbly Peg, in which you place your hand down on a flat surface and try to jab a knife between your fingers as fast as possible without stabbing yourself.  And lastly, I'm not sure if Mikoto and Mokuren have cute nicknames for each other, but again, it was for the sake of humor I wrote so.  Any other inconsistencies, I hope  you all will forgive.

And now, onto the story.   Ja ne, Chris  
The Combatants
----------------   Raiha and Joker, loyal members of Kurei’s Uruha, were on an important mission.  Well, actually, Raiha was on an important mission and Joker tagged along simply out of boredom.  Though the sword wielder tried to convince his fanged friend not to follow, there wasn’t much he could do. Eventually, he relented and put up with the Unwelcome company. “If Neon finds out that you went shopping with me, she’ll kill me.”   “You worry too much, Raiha-han.  And who’s going to tell her?”  he questioned.  From the rack of lingerie, he pulled out a see-through black  and white teddy, holding it up to the light.  “Do you think she’d like this one?”

Raiha sweatdropped, giving his friend one of his trademarked grins.  “Not really, Joker.  Neon-san left me specific instructions on what to get her. But I get the distinct impression that you like it.”

“All the more reason to get it,” he added.

“And why is that?”  
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?  She’s trying to impress me with flashy garments.”  With empathy etched in his face, he slowly shook his head. “Poor girl.  She’s fallen hard for the majesty that is Joker.  If only there was some way to let her down easy.”

Raiha was able to keep a straight face for all of five seconds, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.  When he finally managed to get control over himself, he said,” Please, Joker, you’re the last thing on Neon’s mind when it comes to romance.  She only wanted something to wear for the summer nights.  And if she’s wearing this for anyone, we both know who that person is.”

“Kurei-han?  Come on…It’s clear that she’s only using him to make me jealous.  The girls crazy for me and just doesn’t have the courage to tell me.”

Rolling his eyes, Raiha went through the lingerie racks, until he finally came upon something fitting Neon’s description.  “I think this is it.” Holding up a green teddy with black lace, he looked for a tag to tell him the size, but found nothing.  “This is what she’s looking for, but I don’t know if this is her size or not.”

“Give it here,” Joker said, before snatching the garment away.  Looking the piece over, he let out an appreciative whistle.  “Can’t find it either. Let’s see…” Before Raiha could do anything, Joker had pressed the garment against his friend.  “You have a girlish figure.  See if it fits.”

“Wh…what?”  Raiha’s face immediately went bright red as he took in his friend’s request.   “I’m not trying this on!”

“I’m not asking you to.  I’m saying hold it against your body and see if we can guess a size.  If you get her something too big or too small, she’ll have a fit.  Either because she’ll think she’s too fat or because she thinks you think she’s too fat.  Do you want to go through that?”

“Hai, hai,” he said.  Reluctantly, he held the teddy against his chest. With interest that for some reason unsettled Raiha, Joker stared at his friend.  “Step back into the light, Raiha-han.  I can’t tell for sure if it’s Neon-han’s size or not.”  Dutifully, he did as asked.  It’s a good thing no one else knows about this little trip, Raiha said to himself.  It’s one thing to be bishounen, but this was too much.

“Still not sure.  Turn to the side.”

Raiha complied, but a voice from behind him caught his attention.  “Raiha!” Without thinking, he turned to the voice, forgetting all about the garment in his hands (which was a fatal mistake on his part).  Standing in front of him was Team Hokage member, Domon Ishijima, with Polaroid  in hand, snapping away.  Before he could do anything, Domon had taken quite a few shots of Raiha seemingly trying on a green teddy.  “Ha!  This is perfect!” shouted the nose pierced youth.

“Domon?  What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  Exposing you for the pervert you are.”

“P-pervert?  What are you talking about?”  Suddenly, Raiha turned on Joker who had been slyly trying to slink away from the scene playing out.  “This is your fault, you know.”

“Oi, Raiha-han, calm down.  It won’t help the situation to get angry.” Joker saw that while Raiha’s grin never left his face, he could tell that it wasn’t exactly one of his playful grins and if this situation didn’t end quickly, it could turn ugly.

“Maybe not, but it would certainly make me feel a lot better right now.”

Domon cleared his throat, letting the pair know he was still there.  “Aren’t  you the least curious what I intend to do with these photos?”

Slowly, Raiha turned his head, grinning despite himself.  “And what do you intend to do with them, Domon-kun?”

“Why, show them to Fuuko, of course.  I think she’d be a little surprised to see this side of you. Wouldn’t you agree?”  A triumphant smile came to his face, satisfied that he has outwitted the young ninja.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Watch me.”

“Just how did you find me anyway?”

“A little help from Kage Houshi’s Eika Ball.”

“I find that hard to believe.  Kagero-san wouldn’t do something like this.”

“Let’s just say she owed me a favor.”  Domon remembered a scene from a fewdays ago.  He was delivering flowers to a rather popular bar when he heard a familiar voice singing on the karaoke machine.  When he looked up at the stage, he was surprised to see Kage Houshi—immortal and madougo expert—singing the theme song of a popular anime series.  “You get to burning!  Kimi rashiku hoko rahisku mukatte yo…”  When she saw him, she immediately blushed and ran off the stage.  Later on, when they had a chance to talk, he said he would keep quiet if she would do him a certain favor to which she quickly agreed.

“So what exactly do you want from me, Domon?”

“You’ll see.  In about an hour, you’ll meet me at a this location and hear just what I want.”  Before Raiha could protest, Domon threw a piece of paper on the floor and stepped back into the shadows, melting away as Kage Houshi’s Eikai ball transported him back to where he came from.

“That was weird,” stated Joker.  “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

More than slightly annoyed, Raiha turned to his friend.  With a grin that confused just about any adversary (but somehow managed to put the fear of God into Joker), he said, “If I don’t get those pictures back, I’m going to kill you, you know? Or worse…”  Joker gulped.  “I’ll tell everyone about your Beanie Baby collection.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

@  @  @

The Challenge
----------------

Raiha and Joker found themselves in a rundown Ramen shop, searching for the one that invited them, but when they heard someone shouting for another bowl of noodles, they knew where to look.  Towards the back of the restaurant, they found Domon slurping away at a bowl of ramen.  When he looked up, he finished inhaling the long strand of noodles hanging from his mouth and smiled.  “So you took me seriously.”

“Typical response when you’re being blackmailed.”

Domon pushed his bowl away, making room to fold his hands together on the table.  “Go ahead and sit down, Raiha.  Oh, and you too, Choker.”

“That’s Joker, you mohawked neanderthal!  Oi.  What’s a guy got to do to get a little respect these days?”  Raiha sat down, with Joker, who came simply out of friendship—or fear of being exposed as a beanie fanatic in front of his fellow Uruha—followed suit.  “So what do you want with Raiha-han?”

“Simple.  You don’t want those pictures to be seen by Fuuko, do you?”  Raiha nodded.  “Then you need only accept my challenge and you get them back.”

“Challenge?” he asked.  “What do you mean?”

“A man to man fight.  Whoever is left standing wins Fuuko’s heart.”

Raiha was able to hold his laughter for a whole eight seconds this time, but  it came out nonetheless.  “You can’t be serious, Domon-kun.  You’re challenging me to a duel over Fuuko?”

Pounding his fist on the table for emphasis, he said, “Damn right I’m serious!  I’m tired of you coming between Fuuko and me.  I want to end this once and for all!”

“Don’t you think this is a little barbaric, Domon?  And demeaning to Fuuko?”

“Nonsense!  Whoever loses, has to agree to stop making advances towards Fuuko.  I think this is very reasonable.”  He folded his arms and closed his eyes, satisfaction beaming from his face.

“I refuse to participate in such a pointless battle.”

“One moment,” Joker added.  The two would-be combatants stared at him.  “A fight would only complicate things for you both, right?  Domon-han’s too strong and Raiha-han’s too quick.”

“So what do you suggest,” remarked Raiha.

“Well, Domon-han obviously wants to prove who’s more worthy of Fuuko’s  affection, and what better way to determine that than decide who’s the better fighter?”  Domon nodded in agreement.  “So how about we see who’s the better fighter by having you both compete in say…a series of tests to determine the better man.”

“What kind of tests do you have in mind?”

“Well, Domon-han, we could come up with about five tests that focus on different skills that all warriors must have.  The first to win three out of five wins and the loser has to abandon all pursuit of Fuuko altogether. Agreed?”

The two silently stared at each other, waiting for the other to relent, when finally, Raiha said, “Fine.  If it ends this farce, I’ll take part in these games.”

“Hmmph!  No matter the field of battle, my love for Fuuko will ensure me victory!”  The two Uruha simple sweatdropped at the exclamation, while Joker tried to hold in his laughter.  Domon noticed this and turned red in anger. “Let’s just get this over with, already!”

@  @  @
 
The Test of Strategy
-----------------------

Domon stared across at his opponent, the sweat pouring down his face.  Never has he been in such a dire situation.  Raiha’s next move just might spell doom for him and he could only wait in anticipation at what that move might be.

Raiha sat in silence, contemplating the best course of action.  Strategy was a strong point of his, so it was child’s play defeating someone with Domon’s capabilities.  His mind racing at the possibilities available to him, he quickly decided on what to do.

Joker simply sat in a nearby recliner, reading a collector magazine, trying to determine which of his beanie babies went up in value.  If he was lucky, some of the newly retired ones might just be in his collection.  Briefly, he gave an uninterested glance towards the two combatants, wondering if they were done yet.

“Get it over with,” said an exasperated Domon.  The waiting was killing him. Better it be quick than drawn out, he thought.

“Okay.  B-7.”

“Hit.”  Slowly, Domon placed a red marker on one of his ships, indicating a direct hit.  “My turn.”

Joker put down his magazine, and instead, chose to watch the final moves of this first of five tests of skill.  It was only about ten minutes ago when Raiha started systematically taking down Domon’s ships one by one.  It wasn’t much of a contest, really, since Domon simply shouted out whatever target his finger landed on.  It would be over soon enough.  A mischievous fanged grin found its way to his face, and if Raiha had seen it, he would have gotten worried.  Maybe the next tests should be a little more…challenging, he thought.

“A-3”

“Miss.  B-8.”

With exaggerated efforts, Domon placed the last marker on his ship, and said, “You sank my destroyer.  You win.”  His pride hurt, he quietly sulked over his defeat.  However, hurt pride gave way to willful determination.  If he was going to win this contest, he would have to be firm in his resolution.  “You may have won this one, but the next is mine for the taking!”

Joker laughed to himself, the grin still playing across his lips.  We’ll see, Domon-han, we’ll see.

@  @  @

The Test of Bravery
----------------------

Joker led the two combatants down the hall, neither of them knowing just what was in store for them.  Joker was grinning madly, satisfied that the next test would surely amuse him.  After a few more moments of solemn  wondering, Raiha and Domon were led into the dining area, where a table was set with an array of dishes laid out.  Domon perked up at the sight of all that food, but Raiha was a bit suspicious.  “Exactly what kind of test is this, Joker?”

“The test of bravery.”

“And how is eating considered…” His voiced trailed off as he took a smell of the dishes prepared.  A grimace replaced the usual grin on Raiha’s face.

“This is Neon’s cooking, isn’t it?”

“You guessed it, Raiha-han.”  Joker was smiling, despite the humorless glare from Raiha.  This is going to be good, he thought.  “The first one to stop eating loses, and let me tell you.  Neon-han is so happy to have someone actually want to eat her cooking that she’s still cooking away in the kitchen.

Hesitantly—almost as if he expected one of the dishes to move—he approached the table, looking over the spread before him.  It all looked harmless, but looks can be deceiving.  Before they were all admitted into the Uruha, it used to be Miki and Aki that did all the cooking.  Neon was less than qualified to be in the kitchen, but she still tried to help nonetheless, with disastrous results in the wake.  It was rumored around the mansion that the reason for Mori Kouran’s odd look in his eyes was the result of food poisoning.  Whether there was ever any truth to that rumor didn’t matter; the proof was in the pudding, or be to more accurate, the proof was in the badly charred remains that was meant to be pudding.

Domon, however, was already seated, with napkin in lap and utensils in hand. This was going to be a cakewalk.  “Let’s get this test started.  I’m starving!”

“You don’t understand, Domon.  This isn’t any ordinary cooking. This is Neon’s handiwork.”

“Bah!  You’re just trying to scare me, Raiha.  I’m not falling for such obvious tricks.”

“Believe what you want, but smell for yourself.”

Grabbing one of the plates in front of him, he brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply.   When he set the plate down, his face turned a shade paler.  “Maybe you were right…”

“The only one that is actually willing to eat her food is Shiju, but that’s only because Genjuro starves the poor thing to near death.  Even Noroi seems to be afraid of her dishes.”  Raiha unconsciously shivered, remembering the time Noroi accidentally entered the kitchen, and for some reason, backed up against the wall, stiff with fright.  Why a walking corpse would fear her cooking, he never figured out, but it took four of the Uruha to drag him out of there.

Domon swallowed…with much effort.  He wasn’t entirely sure if he was up to the task.  Yes, he loved to eat, but only when it was good food.  But  still…he was down by one and needed to keep the match on even ground.  To
lose would be unthinkable to him.  He simply had to endure.  Bracing himself for the horror awaiting him, he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

“Very well, Domon, but I warned you.”  Raiha took a seat opposite of him and readied himself for the ensuing torture.  Joker gave each combatant an equal portion of each dish.  He wasn’t able to keep from grinning at the other’s misfortune, but he did his best to hide it.

Closing his eyes (praying that not seeing it would somehow mask the impending assault on his taste buds), he took a bite.  As soon as the food entered his mouth, he grimaced.  This was quite possibly the worst food he has ever had to eat.  He could feel his stomach churning already.  When his plate was cleared, Joker came out with a tray filled with even more culinary horrors. If only there was a way to hide the taste, he thought to himself.

Raiha, on the other hand, was silently suffering through each serving of food.  Part of his training as a ninja was to endure the unendurable, and this certainly fit under that category.  He looked across the table to see Domon trying hard to force himself to eat what was on his plate.  At least he could take solace in knowing he wasn’t suffering alone.

From behind the door, Joker was doing his best to keep his laughter at bay. To actually watch someone shoveling Neon’s cooking in itself was a sight to see, but considering that someone being Raiha made it an even more enjoyable sight.  He was even getting a laugh after watching Domon shiver uncontrollably after each bite.  He wondered if he could get a copy of the surveillance tape that was currently recording this duel.

The food just kept on coming.  Domon couldn’t see an end to this torture. He was almost at the end of his rope.  It wasn’t that he was full or anything.  He’s been known to pack it away on numerous occasions.  The problem was the food left a lingering taste in his mouth, and with each dish  served, the mixture of them all was too much for him to handle.  Suddenly, the answer came to him: if he didn’t have to taste this…sorry excuse for food, then he could shovel it in like nobody’s business, and he knew just how to do that.

He couldn’t understand it.   Raiha’s stomach was on the verge of upheaval, but Domon was eating the food as if it were actually edible.  If he could stomach it, then so could I, the raijin wielder thought.  Still, it was weird to see Domon eat so much.  Something else that caught his eye was his sudden change in skin color.  It almost seems as if his skin was…gray.  Like he said.  Weird.

Joker wheeled out the last tray.  He was surprised that they could endure four courses, but dessert would surely get them.  When he uncovered the dish, Raiha let out weary groan.  “That’s not what I think it is, is it?”

“Fraid so, Raiha-han.  Pudding flambe.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Domon asked.

“It wasn’t meant to be flambe, that’s what.”  Joker served each a heaping helping, taking note as well of Domon’s changing skin tone.  Wasn’t it supposed to be a little more flesh-like?

Raiha took a bite.  The instant his taste buds reacted, his eyes bulged out, he spit it out and ran out of the room, saying something about pudding wasn’t supposed to have lumps in it.  The moment he left, Domon set his dish aside, swallowing the spoonful he managed to get into his mouth.  As he relaxed, his skin returned to its usual pinkish hue.  This once again caught Joker’s attention.  “Domon-han?  What’s up with your skin?  It keeps changing color.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Joker’s fanged grin came to the surface.  “Of course.”

“Two words: Tetsu Gan.”

“Huh?”

“A madogou that changed its’ masters body to iron.  Once I willed it to activate, I couldn’t taste anything, so it didn’t matter what I put into my mouth.”

Joker couldn’t help laughing out loud at Domon’s ingenuity.  Maybe it wasn’t entirely fair (and in the Uruha, that didn’t really matter), but it was worth it to see Raiha loose his cool for a moment and race out to the bathroom in convulsions.  He made another mental note to check up on how to get copies of the surveillance tapes.  This would be great at the Uruha Christmas party.

@  @  @

The Test of Steadfastness
                   -----------------------------

Domon was getting restless.  Joker placed the two combatants in some kind of theatre, complete with stage and curtain.  He and Raiha were waiting for Joker who had disappeared behind the curtain some time ago.  “Any idea what he’s planning?”

Raiha simply shook his head. “I only work with him.  I don’t claim to understand him.”

“Hmmph!”  He didn’t like this.  If Domon had his way, it would have been a quick fight, done in a matter of minutes.  Now, he had to put up with some whacko in a second hand halloween costume and his comical whims.  But he agreed to the terms, so he couldn’t back down now.  So far, it was one win each. Two more and Raiha would be completely out of the picture.

“Are you ready for the third match to begin, gentlemen?”   Joker appeared from behind the curtain, clad in tuxedo with microphone in hand.   The baseball cap over his head hid his pair of mismatched blue/green eyes, the new official unofficial color of his eyes until proven otherwise…or until his new contacts came in.  “Now we face the test of steadfastness.  I think we all can agree that conviction is one of the most basic principles of all warriors. I think it was once said that a warrior without conviction is a warrior lost…or I just made that up, but either way, it sounds pretty cool, huh?”  Silence.  “Anyway, we will now see which of you can prove your conviction to the much beloved Fuuko with this next test.  Remember, now. The first to betray their devotion to Fuuko-han by showing any sign of enjoyment loses this round.”  Suddenly, the lights went out and a spotlight came on, moving back and forth across the stage.  “Our first lovely lady is the always glamorous—yet still available—Yoko!”  From behind the curtain, came the blonde referee, sauntering across the stage as though she was born to walk it.  “Yoko is wearing a lovely two-piece bikini that accentuates…well, you can see what it accentuates.  Matching purse and high heels bring it all together for this young go-getter who knows what she
wants.”  It took some time to get this together, but he still managed.  To be honest, most (actually, all) of the referees flat out refused to participate in this little event for only time and a half, especially Yoko who demanded she be paid a model’s fee.  However, when he told the ladies that if they didn’t participate, he’d have to conveniently leave their home phone numbers in a certain botanical sadists’ room.  After hearing that, they quickly agreed to rush over to the mansion.  As Yoko finished her walk, Joker called the next lady out.

Raiha couldn’t believe it.  That Joker would pass this poor excuse for exploitation off as a test of a warrior’s mettle was ludicrous.  For him, it was just an excuse to see scantily clad woman prancing about for his own pleasure, and Raiha didn’t know if he could put up with much more of this. Bad enough he and Domon were fighting over Fuuko, but to let other woman be treated as meat was just wrong.

Domon, on the other hand, was desperately trying to keep from drooling all over the carpet.  It took an incredible amount of self-control, but somehow he was pulling it off.  He didn’t know how long he could last, but knowing what was at stake, he couldn’t afford to lose.  To ward the hentai thoughts pervading his mind, he thought of the most disturbing sights he could imagine.  Three-legged dogs…rotting corpses…Mikagami smiling (for some reason, this really spooked Domon, partly because it just seems so damn unlikely to ever happen)…street mimes…

“Let’s hear it for the ever charming Toraha!  Give her a hand, you two.” Admittedly, Joker was enjoying this.  He was male, after all.  But still, he got more of a kick watching Raiha and Domon squirm in their seats, trying desperately from showing any interest at all.  “Next, we have the shy, but undeniably cute Demi, showing how the one-piece can leave as little to the imagination as the less conservative bikini’s do.  This little number is bound to turn heads at a beach near you.”  As Demi paraded around the stage, slightly embarrassed to be doing something like this, the impossible happened: Raiha’s nose was bleeding.  Not much, but just enough to warrant investigation.  “What have we here?  Is a winner already to be decided?” Before Raiha could compose himself, Joker had leapt from the stage over to his fellow Uruha member.  “I believe it’s true!  The usually reserved Raiha is the first to lose control in this battle of the wills!  Just what was it that caused this major upset?”

“…”

“You need to speak into the mic, Raiha-han.”

Raiha’s face had turned beet red, but he still managed to get some words out.  “It’s the ears.  Something about those little mouse ears of hers that are just too…kawaii.”

Snickering despite himself, Joker walked over to the winner of this test. “Domon-han, how did you do it?” Domon didn’t respond.  He simply stared at the stage, muttering something under his breath.  Joker had to lean close to hear what he was saying.  “Mom in a bathing suit…mom in a bathing suit…mom in a bathing suit…”  He couldn’t help but laugh at this unexpected display of ingenuity.  Joker was loving this.  This was the second time Domon had managed to outsmart the usually clever ninja and to him, it was just hysterical.  But Raiha deserved it, he thought.  Anyone that threatens a man’s beanie baby collection deserves no mercy.  On that note, he thought the next test should have more of a hands on approach.

@  @  @

The Test of Resourcefulness
-------------------------------

“What are we doing in the basement, Joker?”  asked Raiha.  He didn’t like this.  The last two tests have been pure nonsense as far as he was concerned.  Silently, he hoped this test would at least have some actual merit in regards to a warriors necessary virtues.    Besides, he was down two-to-one and he needed something he was good at.  He wasn’t about to lose to a nose-pierced mongoloid like Domon.

“The test of resourcefulness, my good man.”  With that said, Joker took out a large key from one of his pockets and opened a large stone door.  A fetid odor met the trio as the passed the entrance.  “I must warn you, gentlemen. This one will be quite difficult.”

“What is this horrible smell?”

“Well, Domon-han, this is where Genjuro keeps his pet, Shiju.”

“Shiju?”

“You know.  That creepy looking genetic mishap created from Genjuro’s psychic surgery.”  Leaning closer to Domon, he whispered in his ear.  “But around the mansion, we just call him ‘Puddles’.”

“Oh.”  Domon couldn’t understand what any of this would have to do with a test of resourcefulness, but he was already ahead, so he didn’t really care. One more win and Raiha was no longer an obstacle.  “Well, whatever the test, I’m sure I’ll remain victorious.”

Raiha ignored the last comment and instead, readied himself for whatever the next test was.  “So what do you have planned this time, Joker?”

“Well, to prove to me which one of you is the most able to make the best of any given situation, you are going to be required to perform an arduous task to prove your mettle.”

“What is the test?”

“A test of true ingenuity, in which you must muster all your wits and intelligence to overcome the obstacle I give you…”  Raiha grabbed hold of  his sword, ready to strike at a moments notice.  Joker noticed this and stopped dancing around the subject.  “You have to give Shiju a bath.” Absently, he jerked his hand over to a corner, where a large tub was waiting, with various soaps and scrubs were waiting.

Domon sweatdropped, while Raiha simply chose to glare at his fellow Uruha. “You’re just doing this because it was your week to do it, aren’t you?”

“Nonsense.”

“You’re lying.”

“Never.”

“Yes, you are.”

Trying to keep his cool (but failing), Joker spun around to face Raiha.  “Well, it’s not like you ever have to do it. Being Kurei’s favorite and all, you get all the fun jobs, leaving the rest of us to do the dirty work.” Maintaining his composure once more, he continued his explanation.  “The first to get Shiju in the tub and scrubbed down wins this round, but I must warn you: it’s not an easy task.  He hates taking his baths.We wouldn’t even go to the trouble if he didn’t have the nasty habit of rolling around in his own…well, you get the idea.  Ganbatte.”

As soon as Joker left the room, another door opened from the other end of the room.A low, threatening growl came from the darkness behind the door, and soon after, out stepped Shiju. He was already in his second stage of maturation, walking on all fours.  Sniffing the air, he looked directly at the two intruders. However, he also caught wind of the soaps in the corner of the room.  Immediately, he ran off to the opposite corner, growling to ward off any that might whisk him away to his soapy doom.

Domon and Raiha stared at one another, waiting for the other to make the first move. Both knew how important this match was, but both also saw how...uncooperative Shiju looked.  Neither wanted to have to deal with that monstrosity. Hesitantly, Domon took the first step towards the beast. If he had to do this, it would be best to do it quickly.After a few steps, he started off at a run, screaming at the top of his lungs, going straight for Shiju. When he was almost upon the beast, he immediately stopped. Shiju’s threatening stance was now an offensive attack as he leaped through the air, ready to pounce the hapless Domon. Caught off guard at its’ sudden change in tactics, Domon back peddled, deciding retreat to be the better plan of action.  Soon, the two were seen racing around the room, the would-be bather being chased by the would-be bathee.

Standing by the entrance, Raiha watched the comical scene before him with his trademark grin, but in the back of his mind, a plan was already forming. A frontal assault wasn’t going to work with Shiju.  Domon’s situation proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It would take something a little sneakier than that.  And as a ninja, wasn’t sneaky supposed to be something he was good at?  Then, it hit him.  He would need something to lure the beast into the bath, then hopefully, keep him preoccupied long enough to scrub him down. Opening the door, he ran off in search of the perfect bait, hoping it already hasn’t been disposed of.

After only a few minutes of running around, he had decided to confront the beast. Activating his Tetsu Gan, he stopped in his tracks, whirled around, and waited in anticipation of the imminent collision.  “Nani?”  There was nothing behind him.  Shiju had seemingly disappeared.  Looking around, Domon searched for the beast, but when he finally looked up, he found where he was hiding.  In the rafters above, Shiju was walking along the beams, content that he was out of reach from the one that wanted to give him a bath.  This wasn’t going to be easy, Domon thought.  He started to rip up pieces of the stone floor, hurling them at the amalgamated monstrosity above him.  When one of the projectiles came close to hitting him, Shiju leapt from the rafters straight for the offending party.  When the two forces met in combat, they tussled for a while—punching, biting (both did this), and kicking—until Domon made the mistake of grabbing onto Shiju’s tail.  With a pained yelp, the beast started off at a panicked run with Domon in tow. Losing his concentration, his Tetsu Gan shut down, and he was at the mercy of the beast that was dragging him across the floor, until finally, Shiju whipped his backside and sent the poor Hokage member flying into the wall, face first.

Raiha entered just as Domon met the wall.  He was able to find exactly what he was looking for and immediately set his plan in motion.  With his fingers to his lips, he let out a loud whistle, calling Shiju’s attention away from Domon.  When he finally caught the beasts eyes, he took from behind his back the item he managed to procure from the kitchen: Neon’s pot roast with special seasoning, which was actually any spice she could find in the kitchen.  Upon viewing the slab of meat, Shiju’s ears perked up and at once he sat down in attention.  “Come on, boy!  Come and get it!”  With lethal precision, he hurled the roast towards the waiting tub.  When Shiju ran after it, he leapt into the air and caught it, but unwittingly landed in the vat of water at the same time.  Raiha was almost immediately on the beast, liberally pouring on the doggie shampoo.  Luckily for him, Shiju was too busy trying to actually bite into the unbelievably tough pot roast to notice.  By the time he had managed to consume the otherwise inedible hunk of beef, Raiha was already done scrubbing and washing him down.  When Shiju realized where he was, he leapt out of the tub and started to shake vigorously, further soaking the already soaked ninja.  With an indignant snort, the beast ran off, content to be fed and done with his weekly bathing.

Finally regaining consciousness, Domon’s blurred vision eventually came to focus on the scene before him.  Seems this contest is tied, he thought.  No matter.  The next match will be his for the taking, and nothing was going to stop him.

Joker, who was watching the entire fiasco from the surveillance room, was laughing uncontrollably.  After bribing the guards to make several copies for him, he was now in the process of talking one of them into following—and filming—the unfortunate combatants on their final test.  If everything worked out according to plan, he was going to have more than enough material to make this year’s Christmas party the best yet, and he wouldn’t have to spike Neon’s eggnog to do so.

@  @  @

The Test of Endurance -----------------------

It all came down to the final test.  With two wins each, both combatants were determined to win, no matter the cost.  To lose meant giving up the one thing both treasured more than anything else.  Firm in their resolution, the pair stood in ready for the demanding task awaiting them.  With shaking hand, Domon took the point, reaching for the doorbell and ringing once. From within, came an angered reply.  “Wait a goddamn minute!  I’m still putting on my make-up!”  Both Raiha and Domon cringed at the grating voice, wondering if it was indeed worth the trouble to continue.  After a few minutes, out came the source of the mysterious voice.  “Well, let’s get going,” said Mikoto.  “I ain’t got all f&$king night.”

“Hai, hai,” they said in unison.  The trio walked down the hall and out the main door to the waiting limousine.  Joker, who was playing chauffeur for the night (if only to properly judge the proceeding test), opened the door for them.  When they were all in, he closed the door and went around to the driver side entrance.  Once inside, he grabbed hold of the cel phone and hit a button.  “They’re in.  Be ready.”  After hanging up, he looked into the rearview mirror, making sure the players were all in ready.  No matter what it took, Joker was determined to get this magical night on tape.

Inside the cab, the three were joined by Mokuren, who surprisingly enough produced a bouquet of roses from his body to present to Mikoto.  After sniffing the flowers, Mikoto playfully pricked her fingers on the thorns, letting the blood flow freely before licking them clean.  “You always knew how to drive me wild,” exclaimed an excited Mokuren, licking his lips hungrily.  Mikoto simply smiled back, sucking coyly at her little pinky.

From their seats opposite of the…lovebirds, Domon and Raiha could only stare in fear of the show being put on for them.  Apparently, Joker had thought the fifth test should be that of endurance, and in his mind, what better way to test this than to see who could endure the longest on a date with Mokuren and Mikoto.  It was agreed that the first to become so completely grossed out and leave was the loser.  Though the mere thought of accompanying these two psychopaths sickened both combatants, neither was willing to back down from the challenge, which played well into Joker’s plans.  Mokuren and Mikoto, on the other hand, didn’t really seem to mind the intrusion.  In fact, they said they preferred having an audience (though this comment only served to further unnerve the intruding party).

After a few minutes of playful—yet disturbing—banter, the group reached their destination: a charming little bistro at the edge of town.  Opening the door, Joker watched the quartet climb out of the limo.  At the same time, he searched the street for his accomplice who would record this little event for posterity.  When he spotted him, a fanged grin came to his face, happy to have everything going according to plan.

The group entered the restaurant, informing the maitre de of their arrival. Soon after, they were seated at a window table, which was already determined by the conniving Joker, complete with listening device under the table. Domon and Raiha both covered their faces with the menus, trying not to watch the happy couple entertaining themselves.  With blinding speed, Mikoto was busying herself with a game of Mumbly Peg.  As the steak knife repeatedly jabbed into the table, Mokuren stared, transfixed at the scene, wondering if this time one of her fingers might come off and he’d finally hear her scream.  Until the waiter came, Mikoto’s display went on without injury (much to Mokuren’s dismay).

“Excuse me, miss…?”

Turning her attention to the waiter—wicked smile forming on her lips—she said, “What do you want?”

“It’s just that you’re disturbing some of our other customers and we’d really appreciate it if…if you’d…”

“If I’d what?  Spit it out.”  The knife that was just recently dancing between her fingers was now at her mouth.  “I wouldn’t want to think you’re needlessly bothering me.”

“If you’d…like to order now!  I was wondering if you’d like to take this time to order.”

“Oh, we’ll need a few more minutes, sweetie, but thanks for asking.”

“Oh, no problem at all, miss.”  As fast as his feet would carry him, the waiter was ran off.  If the customers wanted to complain let them do something about it.  He wasn’t risking his life for minimum wage plus tips.

Leaning over, Domon whispered to Raiha, “And you let her into your little assassin group?”

“Certainly wasn’t my choice.  Mori let her in.  Birds of a feather and all.”

The evening continued on much the same.  Mikoto was as abrasive as ever and Mokuren was as misogynistic as ever, occasionally slapping the passing waitresses with an extended limb once in a while.  The two combatants could only try their best to remain as inconspicuous as possible, though it became increasingly hard when the…lovebirds were seen trying to feed one another.

“Open wide, my cuddly-wuddly bag o’ flesh,” cooed Mokuren, as he gently force fed his equally psychotic date.

“Mmmm.  Rare…just the way I like it.”  Twirling some pasta onto her fork, she raised the utensil to his waiting mouth.  “Your turn, my little snickerdoodle.”

Domon almost threw up from the couple’s chit chat.  Watching these two nutcases acting all lovey-dovey was more than he could stomach.  It took all his will to stay in his seat, and even then, he wasn’t entirely sure he could deal with them for much longer.  His only hope was that Raiha had a weaker constitution than he did, but since he’s dealt with them on a semi-regular basis, that wasn’t likely to happen.

Fortunately for Domon, Raiha wasn’t as unaffected as he though the ninja to be.  If anything, seeing this side of his fellow Uruha disturbed him more than he could have anticipated.  Yes, he knew they were psychotic—they were after all, wanton killers—but watching them get so cozy with one another was just…wrong.  Though he always tried to keep up the façade that nothing could faze him, he found it unbearably difficult to wear a grin this night.  He was afraid he just might lose this competition.

When dinner was over, Raiha paid with his credit card and made sure to get the receipt (one of the Uruha rules was that nothing was reimbursed without proper proof of purchase).  He’d have a hard time convincing Kurei that this was Uruha business, but he’d be damned if he was paying for this out of his own pocket.  Stuffing the receipt in his pocket, he followed the group back into the waiting limousine.  Though he wanted to smack the fanged grin off of Joker’s face, he restrained himself.  “So is this date over,” asked the irate ninja.

“Are you kidding?  We’ve just begun!”  Mikoto grabbed hold of Mokuren’s arm. “Next, we’re going to our favorite night spot.  I’m sure you’ll both just love it.”

Some time later, the limo had stopped and Joker had gotten out to open the door for the group.  When they stepped out, what they saw was somewhat unexpected.  A large neon sign with the words “ANGEL’S WHIP” and a picture of a woman repeatedly cracking said whip flashed on and off immediately caught their attention.  As Mikoto explained, this establishment was a well-known nightclub among the S&M circle, and the couple frequented it often enough.  “Don’t worry, Domon.  With your muscles, piercing and hairdo, you’ll fit right in.  And Raiha...” She traced a finger down his chest, licking her lips coyly.  “You’re so pretty, they’ll eat you right up.  Well, come on.  The gangs waiting for us.”

Mikoto and Mokuren entered the club, while Domon and Raiha simply stared at the door, with dots for eyes.  Both were obviously shocked at this turn of events and silently wondered if the other felt the same.  Slowly, both turned their heads to face one another.  They looked once more at the neon sign, then returned their gaze to each other.  Reluctantly—but with undeniable certainty—the two said simultaneously, “Draw.”

@  @  @

The Decision ----------------

Inside the mansion, the three sat, discussing the options left to them. Joker said, “Well, we have to figure something out.  Unless you both just want to give up?”

“Never!  I entered this competition to either win or lose.  A tie leaves us in the same awkward situation we started with.”  Domon was rather stubborn about this, but it was his idea in the first place, so why shouldn’t he be.

“It doesn’t really matter to me.  I just want those pictures you took of me.”  Raiha’s usual grin was no where to be found. Recent events have done more than enough to use up his wealth of patience, and he didn’t really care.

“Well, if neither of you are willing to quit, then we need a tie-breaker. Any ideas?”  All three sat in silence, trying to come up with yet another test to decide a winner.  Raiha was the first to come up with a substitute test.  “How about whoever can hold their breath the longest?”

“Too simplistic,” said Joker.

“The one who can bench press the most,” offered Domon.

“With your Saturn’s ring?  No way.”  Joker thought for a moment.  “How about whoever can down the most shooters?”

“Domon’s only sixteen, and you know I don’t like to drink very much.”

The three continued brainstorming, when suddenly, out from a corner shadow appeared Fuuko, ala Kagero’s eika ball.  “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?!”  Obviously, she had found out about their little contest.

“Let me guess: Kage Houshi told you,” said Raiha.

“Damn right she did.”  Domon, who was trying to slink away from the wind master’s inevitable wrath, was the first to be targeted.  “What was going through your head, Domon!”

“Eeep! Fuuko-san…”

“Don’t Fuuko-san  me, you gorilla!  I want to know just why you challenged Raiha to this stupid contest!”

“Well, Fuuko, I just wanted to get him out of the way so we could…”

“Get this through your head, Domon.There is no us and there never will be.” Despite the tears streaming down Domon’s face, she continued.  “And just how do you think it feels to be treated like some kind of prize to be given off to the winner of your little competition?”

“I don’t know.”

“I didn’t think so. Now go home before I get really angry.” Obediently, he stepped into the shadow, disappearing from sight, as he was instantly teleported home. Done with Domon, she now turned her attention to theninja. “And you. You know better than participating in something so degrading!”

“That’s just what I said…”

“Then why did you do it!”

“He was…” Raiha stopped. He wasn’t sure if he should tell her that Domon was blackmailing him, for then she would certainly want to know with what, and he didn’t want to lie to her.

“Do you mean these?”  From within her pocket, she took out some pictures and threw them on the floor.  They were the Polaroid’s that Domon had earlier taken of Raiha.  “I don’t know what was going on for you to be trying on…woman’s lingerie, but was it worth it to get me so pissed off?” He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. I apologize for my behavior. I simply didn’t want you to lose any respect for me.”

“And participating in this game would serve that purpose in what way?” The ninja didn’t respond.  She had him over a barrel and she knew it.  Any answer he gave would immediately be shot down.  It was a no-win situation. “Sigh. Listen. I know you felt pressured into doing this, so I should probably cut you some slack, but next time—and there better not be a next time!—I’ll expect better of you.”  With that said, Fuuko left as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving the two Uruha members alone.

“Next time…”  Raiha smiled at that.  It meant she hasn’t completely given up on him yet. At least some good has come out of this farce.

Coming up from behind, Joker slapped his friend’s back in a playful manner. “Well, all’s well that ends well, ne, Raiha-han?”  The ninja said nothing.
“Imean, no hard feelings, right?”The ninja walked off. “Raiha-han?”

@  @  @

The Aftermath ------------------

Joker entered his room, immediately flopping down on his bed.  It had been an exhausting ordeal, but a rewarding one just the same.  The look on Raiha’s face when he would show the tapes would be worth any retaliation the ninja could come up with.  Even though it had cost him a pretty penny, he was glad he had the foresight to think of such a devious plan.  Grinning madly, he turned around on his back, enjoying the quiet comfort of a prank well done.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, a knock on his door roused him awake. Maybe Neon finally worked up the courage to confess her feelings for me, he thought.  As he opened the door, he was surprised to see Raiha.  “Well, Raiha-han, what a pleasant surprise.  What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to thank you for all your help.”

“Help?”

“Why, if not for you, things might have gotten completely out of control.”

“Oh, well, don’t mention it!  Glad to be of service.” He couldn’t believe his luck. He figured Raiha was onto him, but he guessed he was just being too paranoid.

Extending a hand, he said, “No hard feelings, right, Joker-san?”

Curious as to why Raiha would say that, he accepted the handshake. “Not at all.”

“Well, good-night,” he said, and left  the fanged assassin alone.

Closing the door, he walked back to his bed, wondering about Raiha’s sudden change in behavior. Just why was he being so friendly all of a sudden? After Fuuko left, he seemed as if he would be more than happy to perforate Joker’s costume with his katana at the drop of a hat, but now he was actually being nice. It just didn’t make any sense at…

Oh no.

Immediately, Joker jumped off the bed and ran over to the other side of his room where a rather large self-portrait hung.  Taking the artwork down, his hands were a blur as he quickly worked the combination on the safe.  When he opened the door, a gasp escaped his lips.  Rather than the stack of videos he had expected to see, there were only two things inside.  The first was a slip of paper addressed to Joker himself.  Taking it out, he silently read the contents:

Dear Joker,

Did you really think I’d let you get away with this?  It was obvious that you were enjoying yourself a little too much and after a few inquires on my part, I found the reason why.  You should have known I would have found out. I am ninja and there is no secret we cannot unearth. Remember this warning: the next time you attempt to humiliate me, I will not be so easy on you…or your collection.

Raiha

Dropping the letter to the ground, he carefully reached in to pull out the last item remaining in the safe.  When he finally saw what it was, a pained look came to his face.  With the tears already forming in his eyes, he whispered, “Sneaky…why did it have to be Sneaky.” As he held the detached head of his beloved beanie baby, he silently wept, cursing his misfortune and Raiha’s cold, black heart.