The Dark Ocean

“It's a ninja… academy?” Shego said, staring up at the gates.

“Yuh-huh,” Ron grunted under the weight of his, Shego's, and Yori's luggage. Rufus perched atop the small pile of backpacks and shoulder bags, a tiny pair of sunglasses perched on his nose and a miniature tanning reflector in his hands.

“This is the elite area of the academy, where those with exceptional skills or who have already graduated the main academy and are skilled enough to continue their training receive additional mentoring,” Yori explained brightly. “You will notice that it is separated by ten flights of steps to give the elite students additional privacy in which to train.”

“I did kinda notice. Ninja Academy… sounds like a Saturday morning cartoon series.” Shego leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, looking at Ron's red face. “You okay there, Stoppable?”

“Oh fine,” Ron wheezed out. “Think a lung collapsed about three flights of stairs ago, but I'm good!”

“That's the spirit.” Shego patted him on the head, then straightened up. “So, do we… knock?” She blinked. Despite being at least twenty feet high, made of stone, and fitted snugly into a forty foot rock wall, the doors had been opened so silently that she hadn't noticed it while she was talking to Ron. “… Oh they're -good-.”

Yori and Shego walked, and Ron staggered, into the courtyard beyond the gates. Cast partly into shadow by the high rock wall that cut the elite academy off from the one below, it was large and mostly open, though what looked like an obstacle course had been assembled in a loose ring towards the center. A man in a black gi was sitting on his heels in front of the obstacle course, his long white hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Despite his apparent age, his angular face was unlined and beardless.

Yori approached and bowed, fist pressed to her palm and head lowered. After a moment, Shego bowed as well, arms to her sides and eyes staying raised to focus on the man. Ron collapsed under the weight of the baggage.

The man opened clear, dark eyes, sweeping them across the bowing women, and over Ron who was struggling his way out of the pile. Rising to his feet, he nodded, Shego and Yori rising.

“Kokuei Yori. A graduate of our own Yamanouchi School, student of the Two Fans Style. You are well known to me.”

“To be known by you is a great honor, Master Sujigaki,” Yori murmured, bowing briefly again.

“Stoppable Ron. A ‘master’ of Tai Shing Pek Kwar, and also having attended Yamanouchi. Master Sensei spoke highly enough of you, and Yori says you have finally learned to tap into the skills that so often lay dormant. Is this true?”

“Yeah, I seem to have kinda gotten the hang of it,” Ron admitted, rubbing the back of his head. Rufus nodded energetically, then did a few martial arts moves from his perch on Ron's shoulder, along with squeaky “Hya!” sounds.

“And Rufus as well. He is also known to me.” Master Sujigaki nodded, then turned to Shego. “You, however, are not. You are here because Ron Stoppable and Kim Possible have earned the respect and gratitude of this school.”

“I'm Shego. Adept in the Claw Branch of the Ancestral Three Dragons School.”

“I see.” Sujigaki nodded slowly. “Shego is your Honor Name, then?”

“It is.” Shego nodded, while Ron gave her a curious look.

“Your Sifu no doubt felt you had earned it, then. However, this is the Shin Yamanouchi School. You will have to earn your own honor here. I will ask for your real name.”

Yori tensed, and from the way Shego's face had suddenly gone cold and stony, Ron wondered if their new sensei had just insulted Shego, or merely come extremely close.

“Sheila Go.” If the mountain air hadn't already been cold, Ron would have expected the temperature to drop just from Shego's voice.

“Very well. Today, you will be shown your rooms and allowed to rest and meditate. Tomorrow your training begins. I shall send out a student to guide you.” Without saying anything further, the black-clad man turned and walked off towards the building that seemed to be halfway sunk into the mountainside.

“I had heard that Sujigaki-sensei was a bit brusk and had high standards,” Yori said a bit lamely. “I am sure he did not intend any offense.”

“He didn't give any,” Shego said so flatly that Ron knew his earlier thought was correct. Sujigaki must have been treading the fine line of insult, and from the sound of it, quite deliberately.

“Uh, Shego, not to pry if it's private or something, but what's an Honor Name?”

“It's something you earn when you complete the student level of the martial art I trained in. If your Sifu thinks you've actually learned well, and are worthy of being known as a real student of the Three Dragons style, they give you an Honor Name. My brothers basically just copied the style of mine when we tried the hero thing because they didn't really understand it.”

“Oh. They didn't learn the fighting style?”

“It's a long story. Let it go for now, Stoppable,” Shego said with a sigh.

---

“Your training will be long, difficult, and dangerous.”

One would think morning PT would be below the notice of advanced ninja training. One would be wrong. Shego, Yori, and Ron were all dangling by their knees from bars, doing vertical situps. No number had been mentioned for when the situps would be completed.

“None of you are merely students. You are expected to have the skills of a ninja already… this is furthering and refining your abilities.”

Shego grunted a little as she did her fifty-eighth situp. She'd originally signed on with Drakken with the idea of not being worked overly hard too often. But as with everything in life, things hadn't quite gone as planned. So here she was, wearing a ninja gi and doing PE class at Asscrack AM.

“You will not only train in this school, but be sent on actual missions, all of which are real and necessary, and any of which could result in your death.”

Yori winced internally, though she didn't break rhythm in her own situps. She could already tell that Ron was having a hard time. He was struggling on and doing his best, as always, but she and Shego had already done twice the situps he had, and he was breathing heavier. She'd have to hope her tactic from last time, acting as if she hadn't a clue in the world he was having difficulty, would work again. At least so far they hadn't been doing anything that strained her injured shoulder too badly.

“You are free to leave at any time. However, if you do so, you will be barred forever from Yamanouchi, as well as training from any master who trained at or is part of Yamanouchi.”

Ron huffed, barely hearing Sujigaki over his own breathing or the thundering of the blood in his ears. His face was so hot that he felt like he had a fever, and he wondered if he was so flushed from the exertion or because all the blood was rushing to his head from being upside-down. He missed Master Sensei… the little old man may have required him to haul his butt out of bed early and work hard, but not this early, nor this hard, and he'd been a lot nicer about it.

Sujigaki walked out to stand in front of the three laboring students, then said, almost cheerfully, “I am not a cruel man. There will, of course, be a settling-in period. I shall not employ canes or lashes until at least a week into the training.”

---

By the second week, Ron was usually pulling his gi top on very carefully over red marks on his back.

He consistently passed the standard challenges and exercises set before him, but often just barely, which was not good enough for Master Sujigaki. Too, his flailing and inelegance in doing so often seemed to inspire the sensei's wrath, causing a stout switch to descend on the blonde's shoulders or across his back.

“This is ridiculous,” Shego snarled from her position in one corner of Ron's small room, her arms folded over her chest. She was leaned back against the wall, glaring in the general direction of the door. “That blowhard's been exercising our asses off, but we haven't even come close to touching anything martial arts related.”

“Everything in its own time, Go-san,” Yori said, though her tone was weary.

“And could you not call me that?” Shego's lips pulled away from her teeth a little.

A place on Yori's own back twinged. “… Forgive me, but if you recall, Sujigaki-sensei made it quite clear that neither of us were allowed to use your Honor Name either.”

Shego made a sound of frustration, but it didn't seem to be aimed at Yori. “I am so close to being out of here it's not even funny. There are a dozen other places I could bone up on my training.”

“Hey, that's okay.” Ron smiled sincerely, though tiredness and a bit of pain were obvious on his face. “I understand he gets your goat, it's not like you have to stay.”

Shego looked at Ron for long moments, then made a much louder grunt of aggravation and threw her hands in the air.

“He better at least get to some fighting soon!”

---

As she lay on the floor, her heightened senses clogged by the smell of her own blood, Shego made a somewhat dazed mental note that she really had to be careful what she wished for.

Rolling onto her feet and pushing herself up, she rushed in at Sujigaki again, fingers straight and stiff, and thrust them towards the back of his head, only to have the old man spin spryly to one side and look at her.

“Excellent. Usually students believe, for some reason, that once they have hit the floor, the exercise is over.”

Shego snarled, dropping into a sweeping kick. Sujigaki almost casually flipped over her head and landed on her other side, again turning to face her.

“Though in this case, I believe it is more anger that is driving you rather than common sense.”

The green-skinned woman came back up to her feet and lashed out at him with curled fingers, just barely having enough restraint not to unsheathe her real claws. He continued to bob and weave, not actually engaging her.

“That is generally the flaw of the Claw style. Its focus on quick lashes tends to reinforce rather than temper the anger of those who choose it.”

“Shut up already!” Shego snapped, curling her fingers and aiming her palm at his nose. Then she yelped as she suddenly found herself on her knees, her arm stiff above her head with her wrist twisted right to the breaking point, her other hand coming up reflexively to grip her taut arm.

“You lacked respect and focus even before the changes to your body, I can see,” Sujigaki said coolly, his voice now carrying a thread of scorn rather than the light, casual tone of before. “How your Sifu believed you worthy of an Honor Name, I do not know.”

Anger flared so brightly that for a moment, Shego felt herself plunging into the dark ocean within her, felt the thing inside uncoil and writhe in her belly. But the fury died so abruptly it was like air hissing out of her, or steam escaping from glowing metal plunged into water. Instead of the ache from her fangs and the itch in her fingers she'd been starting to feel, she felt her eyes stinging, vision blurring a little, and not with the pain in her arm.

Sujigaki abruptly threw her arm down, releasing her and turning to walk away. “Obviously I advanced your training to this phase prematurely. We will resume exercise tomorrow.”

Ron and Yori were slowly picking themselves up off the floor, the sensei's strikes having been a little more effective at making them decide to stay down. Yori walked towards Shego with a distinct limp, avoiding putting her weight on one ankle, and Ron rubbed his jaw.

Yori watched Shego slump forward to put her hands on the floor, head lowered and hair falling to hide her face. Pausing for a moment uncertainly, Yori started to reach a hand out to rest it on the other woman's back.

“Don't touch me,” Shego snapped out raggedly, making Yori draw the hand back quickly.

“Mm, Shegy okay?” Rufus squeaked, poking his head out of the pocket Ron had sewn onto the hip of his gi.

“Yeah, he didn't break anything, did he?” Ron queried, sounding concerned.

Shego shoved herself to her feet and ran from the room.

“Oh dear,” Yori sighed, shaking her head.

“Awww maaaan.”

Yori blinked, and looked to the side at Ron, who was holding up a bloody tooth with a mournful expression. She resisted the urge to either massage her temples or chirp out something like ‘It is your honor to be visited by the Tooth Fairy tonight, Stoppable-san’. Neither seemed quite appropriate.

---

At dinner, Yori and Ron alternated between trading worried glances and looking at the empty seat near them where Shego usually sat. Working in silent agreement, they managed to hide a bowl of rice and sneak it past the ninja kitchen guards, aided by Rufus engaging a nearby rat in a Tai Shing Pek Kwar versus Ninjutsu match as a distraction. (Apparently, the rats that survived around the school had learned a trick or two of their own.)

Standing at the door of Shego's room, the two exchanged another look, before Ron finally raised a hand to tap on the doorframe. “Hey, Shego?”

After a few minutes passed with no answer, Ron raised a hand to slide the door open, then paused and stepped aside. Yori thought that this displayed a certain growing wisdom on his part… certainly, Shego was less likely to be outraged if another girl mistakenly glimpsed her in a state of undress. (Though she rather wondered if Ron had actually learned this lesson the hard way.) Sliding the door open just enough to peek in, Yori spotted Shego sitting in one corner, legs hugged up to her and face pressed to them.

Sliding the door all the way open, Yori stepped inside, allowing Ron to follow before she slid it closed. “Please forgive our intrusion.”

“We brought you some food,” Ron announced, holding up the bowl proudly.

“Mmm, rice, yummy,” Rufus chirped, attempting to sound cheerful.

Ron continued to beam for a few moments, then sagged when there was no reaction. “Aw, c'mon, Shego, it's not that-”

“Sheila.”

Ron blinked, glancing at an equally confused Yori, before looking back at the green-skinned girl. “Huh?”

“Sheila. Or Go-san. Whatever. Take your pick.”

The two standing students exchanged a longer glance, before Yori cleared her throat. “Ah… Go-san… are you really alright?”

After a moment, the older girl's shoulders raised and fell in a small shrug, before she raised her head. Ron was glad to see that she'd cleaned her face up, at least. “He was right. About what he said. I didn't deserve my name.”

“That's not fair!” Ron blurted. “I mean, we know he's a real stickler, but c'mon!”

“What he said was right. If I'd been more focused, more in control, the way I should've been if I'd been any kind of student at all… I might not have had such a hard time when I had all this other stuff coming down on me. I might not have killed Drakken and-”

“Hey hey hey!” Ron interrupted, then trailed off awkwardly. But after a moment he moved to sit down beside her, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, sometimes you make mistakes. I mean, c'mon. Eh? Eh?” Ron gestured to himself with both hands, apparently holding himself up as the prime voice of experience. “But sitting around feeling sorry and blaming yourself doesn't do anything. I mean, it feels kinda satisfying, but it doesn't fix stuff. Ya just gotta try harder or try to fix it or whatever.”

“… Maybe you're right. Still…” She sighed. “I think he really was right. Maybe I haven't earned my Honor Name. At least not yet.”

“Sometimes learning is indeed painful, Go-san,” Yori said softly. “But it is still learning.”

Nodding, Sheila looked aside at Ron. “… Thanks, Stoppable. Now gimme.” She snatched the bowl of rice out of his hands, scooping out a large chunk of it with two fingers and popping it in her mouth.

“The Ron-man knooows what he's talking about,” Ron crowed, doing a brief “it's your birthday” dance with both hands.

Shego glanced at Yori, who was giggling, and rolled her eyes. ‘Good God she's perfect for him.’

---

The next three weeks saw a definite change in Sheila's attitude. She grew a bit quieter, less likely to respond with quips or sarcasm to things trainers said. A brief, grudging ‘sensei’ became ‘Master Sujigaki’ or ‘Sujigaki-sensei’. When they resumed combat training several days after the first attempt, she was making an obvious effort to rein in her temper rather than let it fuel her.

However, the next three weeks saw the first red marks appear on green skin. Sujigaki seemed to have grown almost as liberal with the switch on the older student as he had previously displayed to Ron. It rarely found Yori as its mark, but Sujigaki pressed all three of them harder than ever. Though Ron's performance was improving on a marked curve and starting to lose some of its stumbling, gangling manner, and Sheila's newfound respect and dedication were both visible to any who saw, Sujigaki always had a fault to find, though words of acknowledgement or praise eluded him.

Every task set before them was judged harshly. In fact, at the moment the three of them were sitting cross-legged in a long row of students, all of them diligently sharpening kunai with stones, and Sujigaki was stalking behind, never ranging far from his two “favorite” pupils.

Yori forced herself not to wince or look over as, directly beside her, she heard the thwack of wood on cloth-covered flesh.

“Smoother. You are honing a weapon, not having a seizure with one of your video game controllers.”

“Yow, okay, okay! I mean, yes, Master Sujigaki,” Ron added contritely, ducking his head and refocusing on his work.

Yori held her breath briefly, then released it quietly when it seemed nothing else was forthcoming. Only having been trained from childhood allowed her to avoid not only wincing, but jumping as another thwack sounded from just a bit further down.

“Unless you wish to turn that kunai into a flat razor, that is not the proper angle.”

“Yes, Sujigaki-sensei,” Sheila acknowledged evenly.

Yori squinted a little as she kept her eyes focused on the throwing knife. These little scenes had become commonplace during the last month. She had no idea why, today, it was coming close to making her want to cry.

---

“Okay, let's see… ‘where is the nearest fire exit’?”

“Hm… [Where is nearest fire door?]” Ron replied.

“Pretty close, pretty close,” Sheila acknowledged. “But it's [where is the nearest fire exit?]”

“Ohhh, right, right.” Ron nodded, plucking up a hunk of rice with his chopsticks.

The three of them had begun a habit of sneaking their dinner out of the dining area and back to Ron's room, where Shego and Yori would give the blonde Japanese lessons while they ate.

“'The wolf runs across the plains’,” Yori murmured distractedly, having a hard time focusing on the lesson tonight, for some reason.

“[The wolf runs across the plains.]”

“Correct, Stoppable-san.”

“Mm. ‘I could eat Rufus for some decent protein.'”

“Hey!” Rufus squeaked, shaking a little fist at Shego.

“Well I'm sorry, but c'mon,” Sheila replied, making a face and holding up a thin strip of beef between her chopsticks. “I'm this close to jumping that wall and eating the first mountain goat I can catch.”

“Sorry, buddy. [I could devour protein from Rufus].” Ron blinked as Sheila almost choked on her dinner, the green-skinned girl simultaneously thumping herself on the chest and giving choked laughter. “What? Whaaaat?”

“[I could eat Rufus for some decent protein,]” Yori murmured, since Shego still seemed to be recovering. Rufus grumbled and crawled under the sleeping mat to hide in protest.

“Oh. Wha'd I say?”

“Best leave it alone, Stoppable-san.”

“Oooo-kay.”

Sheila finally recovered and, still giggling, looked at Yori. “Your turn.”

“Ah… I cannot think of anything.”

Shrugging, the older girl looked at Ron and grinned. “Sujigaki-sensei has a tiny penis.”

Ron smirked in return, replying slowly, and carefully, “[Sujigaki-teacher has a tiny penis.]”

“Right in so many ways,” Sheila snickered.

Normally, Yori did her best to ignore her friends’ disrespectful antics, especially in private, but tonight there was just a cold feeling in her stomach, and the sour thought that commenting on the likely size of their trainer's genitalia was hardly where she would stop if she were to voice such things.

“Aw, geez,” Ron murmured suddenly.

“What's wrong?” Sheila blinked, setting her bowl aside, Yori looking over as well.

“I just noticed that my shirt was sticking to my shoulder.” Ron winced as he pulled the gi top away from his shoulder, an ugly, uneven break in the skin surrounded by reddish-brown dried blood. “Guess he hit that same spot too often, eheh.”

“Crap. That jerk.” Sheila scowled, reaching for a jar of ointment from the one shelf in the room. Both of them blinked as Yori abruptly stood up and, her movements stiff, slid the door open, walked out, and slid it closed behind her.

“Uh, did I miss something?” Ron looked at Sheila, who shrugged.

“Tense about shoulder injuries, maybe?”

---

Sujigaki raised his head at the tapping on his door frame. Unfolding his legs and standing, he walked over to slide the door open.

“Sujigaki-sensei, my deepest apologies for disturbing you,” Yori said, bowing quickly. Her words were tensed, rushed, nervousness plain in them though she was obviously trying to be as composed as she could.

“You have disturbed me, so you may as well come in. Close the door after you.” Sujigaki turned and walked away, waiting for the sound of the door closing to turn around and look at his student. “What drives you to visit me at this time of the evening?”

“… Sensei, with the greatest respect,” Yori began slowly. “I do not feel you are being fair to Stoppable-san and Go-san.”

“Really?” the older man replied dryly.

Yori paused, then continued after a moment, sounding far less sure of herself. “I do not mean to criticize your methods, but it seems as if… as if you might be singling them out unnecessarily.”

“You are questioning what I feel is necessary?”

The teenager's eyes widened. “I… Sujigaki-sensei, I meant… I only intended-”

“So the two gaijin,” Sujigaki said slowly, rolling the last word around in his mouth as if finding it particularly relevant. “Have sent you to plead their case because they cannot take my methods.”

Yori's face paled. “Sujigaki-sensei, that's not at all what-!”

“I am disappointed in you for not having the confidence in me to deny their whining. Obviously, my original thought, that neither of them are worthy of being here, was correct.”

Her mouth opened and closed slightly as she searched desperately for any possible respectful way to deny such a blatant falsehood. Her belief in Ron's abilities was absolutely truthful, even if she chose to gloss over his seemingly bumbling manner of carrying out his objectives. And Sheila… Shego… was an acknowledged student of another, obviously well-known school of martial arts, and was on par with Kim Possible, a girl whose skills equaled Yori's own.

“Though I cannot simply throw the foreigners out, this proves to me that I shall have to redouble my efforts to drive them away. I thank you, in the end.”

Yori stared, every single word in the dozen languages she knew having fled her mind. She felt strangely numb all over, with a sort of unpleasant, staticy tingle across her skin. She was barely aware of her fingers tightening, fingertips pressing to the base of them, until she felt the jarring all along her arm of her palm connecting with something.

She was actually rather surprised to see her arm extended in front of her, and followed it all the way to where Sujigaki's head was turned to one side, her palm pressing against his jaw. In shock, she let her arm go limp and her hand fall. Shock, dismay, and shame all flitted through her mind, but were overridden by a sort of cold satisfaction. Her career as a ninja, and possibly her life, was over. But she'd never felt that any action she'd ever taken was more deserved.

Sujigaki slowly turned his head back to look at her, dark eyes deep and unreadable, gaze unwavering.

Then, after an eternal second, he let out a puff of breath and rolled his eyes. “Well it's about time.”

Yori considered herself a very collected person, but she couldn't keep her jaw from dropping as Sujigaki actually grinned, raising a hand to rub his jaw lightly.

“By the way, you're following through just a little early. If you were hitting spot-on you'd have definitely broken it.”

“S-sensei?”

Shaking his head, Sujigaki beckoned her to follow him and turned, walking over to another door and sliding it open. Yori followed him into a traditional study, but out of someone else's traditions. It was done in wood paneling, containing several cushioned armchairs, and a large oak desk with an open laptop on it.

“Have a seat,” Sujigaki said evenly, gesturing to one of the armchairs as he moved to settle into the leather chair behind the desk. “I'm not in the habit of explaining myself to students, but this is a rather unique case. I will make an exception.”

Yori nodded numbly, settling herself tentatively into the plaid chair and folding her hands in her lap, trying not to stare at the darkening mark on the white-haired man's jaw.

“I have indeed been unfair to Ron and Sheila during the past few weeks as part of the training. However, it was not because of their training, but yours.”

“Mine?” Yori echoed, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Yes. It was an effort to get through to you.”

“Their suffering was because of me…?”

Sujigaki frowned a bit. “It was not more than they could bear. And they would thank you for it if they understood, as I'm sure they will should they ever learn of it. Their lives are going to depend on you repeatedly in the next year, and likely much longer after that, and this was an extremely important lesson. I was beginning to lose hope that you would have any sort of breakthrough, and was close to ending your training here.”

Yori sagged back into the chair, murmuring weakly, “Sensei, perhaps you had best start from the beginning.”

The old man's mouth quirked on one side. “Indeed. The three of you came here with many lessons to learn, but each of you had one that was most important. For Ron, the lesson to learn was that he could not always simply skate by on what other people would allow. Just barely making the mark will not always cut it, especially not when other lives are on the line besides his. If he is to survive in the world he intends to live in, he must learn that overachieving is sometimes extremely important. Thus, my demand that he learn finesse, grace, and truly better himself. It is a lesson he is steadily learning.”

Yori nodded slightly, feeling some truth to that. She was beginning to wonder if her feigned ignorance of his shortcomings had actually done him any favors.

“Sheila… Shego… came here full of arrogance and more confidence than was her due. While she understood the need to better her skills on some level, she had not achieved enough humility to truly begin the work. I could have taught her techniques and skills, but they would have been like guns in the hands of the untrained. Point and shoot. Her lesson was a painful one, but she had to learn that there is still much she does not know, and that if she cannot learn to give respect when it is due, she will never grow as a person, nor will she learn to tame the beast that digs its claws into her and drives her.”

Yori gave another small nod. Ever since that night, she'd noticed other changes in the green-skinned girl. Though previously Shego had made sure to stay close to the other two, there had always been some sense of keeping her distance, of invisible bars that separated them, keeping things firmly ‘me and you’. At some point after she'd begun using her birth name, ‘me and you’ had become ‘us’. Perhaps Shego had actually learned, and allowed herself, to respect Ron and Yori as well as the sensei.

“And… my lesson?” Yori prompted quietly after pondering these revelations for a few minutes.

“Your lesson?” Sujigaki raised his slim white eyebrows. “Your problem was too much respect, rather than not enough.”

“I… I do not understand.”

“Ron already knew that authority figures deserve a certain amount of respect. He needs, and still does need, fine-tuning on giving it in the proper way, but he knows that they must still be obeyed. He even in some ways knew to listen to them, perhaps instilled by having a faith in which adult authority figures are to be sought out for guidance. Restricting himself to ‘yes, sensei’ will come in due time.

“Shego needed to learn to give this respect, and when she learned that lesson, it was learned well. But both of them know that there is a time and place where the level of respect is allowed to be relaxed.” Sujigaki laced his fingers and rested his hands on the desk. “I am well aware that I am muttered about, insulted, and mocked in private by the students. In fact, I have kept a specific ear on it, in some cases.”

Yori ducked her head and averted her eyes.

“That, however, is to be expected. It is a way to release tension and be at ease. As long as I am respected overall, enough that my lessons are taken seriously and my orders heeded, I will not worry overmuch about what is said of the size of my manhood.”

The teenager's cheeks flamed, and she gave a nervous nod.

“You, however, were unwavering in your respect. You forced it on yourself at all times. This is perhaps understandable… you studied under Master Sensei for most of your life, and a sweeter, more admirable man has likely not existed for thousands of years.” Sujigaki leaned back now, tilting his head. “What did you think, when you were assigned to investigate Shuri Ken?”

“I was honored,” Yori answered honestly. “I was very gratified that I had been chosen to track and intercept someone who had betrayed us.”

“What was his betrayal?”

Yori opened her mouth, then closed it with a blink. “I… I do not know.”

“You did not ask, and you did not look into it. You merely allowed yourself to be angry at him, and feel the honor for the task. When I heard of this, that is when I began to suspect the problem.” Sujigaki stood and walked several steps, turning to the shelves of books that lined the wall behind his desk. Plucking one down, he flipped through the pages as he continued to speak. “Some ninja clans pride themselves on unwavering, unthinking obedience. Any offense against the clan is punishable by death, without hesitation.”

Nodding, Yori watched him look through the book. Death for any offense did sound extreme, by her standards.

“We are not like that. We of the Yamanouchi hold ourselves to a higher standard. Ninja is who we are, but it is not everything we are. We are still people. Still human beings. Still fathers, brothers, sisters, friends. Any man who would, without hesitation, turn his blade on a man who he had grown up calling ‘friend’ at the order of anyone with the title of ‘sensei’ does not deserve to be called human, let alone a Yamanouchi ninja.”

Yori slumped, suddenly having gone cold. “I… I hated him for no other reason than that Master Sensei called him a ‘betrayer’. I did not even NEED to ask what he'd done, I simply hated him and wanted him dead.”

“Sometimes, Yori, authority must be questioned, or at least taken lightly. Unwavering obedience leads to stagnation and abuse of power. At best, it breeds tension and resentment. At worst, it breeds the sort of ninja devoid of true honor that serve as so many stock villains in silly movies.” Sujigaki turned, the book open in his hands. Yori saw that it actually looked like a yearbook. (Yamanouchi had evolved with the times, and the academy put out yearbooks like any high school, and had for many years.) “I am not telling you to be disobedient or unfaithful. Merely that you must temper it with natural human curiosity and even skepticism.”

“I understand.” Yori nodded. “… Thank you, Sujigaki-sensei.”

“Thank you for proving Master Sensei right about you,” Sujigaki replied. “Now. Speak nothing of this to Ron and Shego. They will learn about my true manner in due time, if it's necessary.”

“Yes, sensei.” Yori bowed her head briefly. Privately, she thought that, if she ever truly felt it necessary, she would tell them herself. Perhaps her lesson had already begun to sink in.

“You may go, student.” Sujigaki settled himself behind the desk, still looking at the yearbook.

Yori stood and bowed slightly again, turning to go. Halfway to the door, she paused and turned her head to look at him. “Sensei… if it is not presuming too much, just what did Shuri Ken do?”

Sujigaki raised his eyes, regarding her evenly for a few moments. Then he set the book on the desk and turned it, beckoning her over. Curious, she walked to the desk and scanned the old photographs, her eyes finally lighting on a familiar face, though the hair was cut short and neat, the features slightly rounder and less severe. For some reason, the man and woman on either side of him seemed vaguely familiar as well, though like all ninja she had developed a keen memory. They were like faces seen in passing through a mist, made all the more difficult to pinpoint by the fact that she hadn't even been born when these photos were taken.

“Ken of the Shuri family killed your parents, Yori.”

Her hands thumped down on the desk hard, bolstering up her knees which had suddenly become weak. She suddenly felt as if she'd run hard to her limit, her breathing coming faster, air burning through her nose and throat. Her mind went over every millimeter of the black and white photos, mentally aging features and matching them to the very few photos she'd ever seen of her parents, and the single one she actually kept, of them standing behind Master Sensei as he held her as a baby. It had been the last time the two had been in the same room with their child while alive.

She felt something coming up her throat, and wondered if she was going to throw up. No, she realized, it wasn't her dinner, it was noise. She couldn't decide if vomiting or wailing was worse, so she swallowed it down all the same. Pushing herself up, trying to firm her legs, she turned pleadingly questioning eyes on Sujigaki.

“He was your father's distant cousin, but at Yamanouchi they were more like brothers. He encouraged your father to pursue your mother, though at first she favored Ken. Years later, he loaned your father money from his family's meager fortune to buy her a ring and help pay for the wedding.”

“I was…” Yori realized her voice sounded entirely too high, like the sound of a wounded animal. She swallowed again, trying to force it back to its normal register. “… I was only told they died on a mission. Not that…”

“They were assigned to look into a Yamanouchi-trained master, who was said to be selling the secrets he had learned at the school to rich men… bored business owners, Yakuza, it apparently made no difference. When they discovered proof and stepped forward to accuse the master… Ken was already with him, and the master ordered Ken to slay them both.”

Sujigaki drew the yearbook back over to him, though Yori almost wanted to grab it back from him. The old man picked it up and gazed at the youthful faces smiling reservedly from the page.

“Whether he had already succumbed to desire for power and money, or whether he was simply blindly following the orders of a master, Ken obeyed. Inai hesitated because of his love for his friend, but Ken did not, and killed him instantly with a throwing star. Your mother fought valiantly, but Shieki was always weak against ranged weapons. Ken, perhaps realizing just what he had done, fled to America, where we would have a more difficult time pursuing and punishing him, especially considering that he chose to associate himself with other, equally powerful villains.”

Yori nodded numbly, trying to find what to say. She was drawing a blank.

“Do not be hasty or rash,” the master cautioned. “The Yamanouchi knows what this can mean to someone. Especially now that I have decided you are old enough to know what transpired. You will get your chance… until then, continue your training. Live your life. Wait until the time is right.”

“Yes, sensei,” Yori whispered. She turned to walk towards the door, the earlier tidal wave of adrenaline having passed and left her more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life.

“And Yori?”

She paused, looking over towards Sujigaki, who was sliding the book back into place.

“It's alright for you to hate him, now.”

Yori nodded again, lips thinning as she walked out through the bland, nearly empty outside room and into the night air.

Yes. It was very alright to hate him.

---

“Is it just me,” Sheila mused aloud as they sat in Ron's room the next night. “Or did Sujigaki replace the stick up his ass with a twig?”

“Yeah, he only hit me twice today,” Ron agreed.

“Maybe that love tap someone gave him on the jaw mellowed him out a little,” the green-skinned girl said with a snicker.

“I am sure that he deserved it,” Yori said breezily, smiling just the tiniest amount.

Both Ron and Sheila's heads snapped towards her, and they actually stared for a moment before Sheila laughed.

“She lives! She even jokes!” Still chuckling, the older girl leaned over and slapped the teenager on the shoulder. “We were starting to worry about ya, Yoyo.”

“'Yoyo’?” Yori's eyebrows tried to crawl into her scalp.

“Yeah, Stoppable was on the verge of asking what was wrong,” Sheila confirmed, pointing towards the blonde.

“Yeah, another day, two tops, of you acting all depressed and I was gonna be all ‘Hey, Yori, you okay?'”

“Hoo boy,” Rufus grunted from under the mat.

“I just… learned some news. Family news,” Yori said after a few moments’ consideration.

“Everything okay?” Ron asked, eyes concerned.

“No.” Yori's own eyes hardened, the quirk of her mouth taking on a somewhat bitter caste. “But it will be, Stoppable-san. It will be.”

---

“You have all done exceptionally well these past two months,” Sujigaki said.

The three students’ jaws didn't drop, but it was a very near thing. It was the first praise they'd received in those entire two months, during which they'd been told they were doing everything but well. Save for Yori, who was more surprised he was actually voicing such sentiments aloud.

“I am satisfied enough with your skills at this point to begin sending you on missions. Small ones at first, but do not let their seeming simplicity lull you. As I said when you arrived, they are still vital, and still potentially deadly.”

Sheila did her best not to snort. ‘Sounds like one of Drakken's plans, minus the vital part, and if you tack “to the planner” on the end.’

“Your first mission will take you into the mountains. There is a group of smugglers illegally excavating old family crypts, some of whom are Yamanouchi ninja. Normal law enforcement is looking for them, but has little to go on in finding them. To preserve secrecy, we can only give them gradual clues. Your job will be to carefully sabotage the grave robbers’ efforts and extend their stay by at least two weeks, allowing the official authorities to find and arrest them. You can help in assuring they are all apprehended, but you must do so without being seen or leaving any trace that ninja were at work.”

“Hai!” the trio chorused.

“Kitei will have weapons, equipment, and maps for you. There is a small house occasionally used by hunters that will be unoccupied for the length of your stay. Have a care, should your sabotage be spotted for what it is, if the house were found they would consider it an obvious source of such things.”

“Hai!”

“Go, my ninja, and do your duty.”

---

“Well, ‘small’ pretty adequately describes this place,” Sheila commented dryly, half-dropping her pack on the floor and leaning it against a wall.

The hunting cabin was one room, with nothing but a counter to slightly separate the meager kitchen area and two doors other than the entrance. One led to a closet with a few abandoned items in it, the other to a small bathroom with a tub that had originally been white but now steadily faded to black at the bottom.

“Oooo, my tub looked like that once,” Ron commented as he glanced in the bathroom. “I didn't know my mom could yell that loud.”

Sheila and Yori exchanged a ‘boys’ look of exasperation, before the Japanese girl flipped open her pack. “Luckily, Kitei included some Ninja Vanish with our supplies.”

“Ninja Vanish?” Sheila asked, tone disbelieving.

“Indeed.” Yori smiled brightly and held up the black spray bottle with stereotypical slash-like white letters proclaiming the name. “Stains vanish quickly, without trace!”

“… Yuh-huh.”

Yori walked into the bathroom, and sprayed once at the very bottom of the tub, where it was blackest. The liquid hit, then started to trickle towards the drain. It left behind a pure white circle with a long, squiggly white line showing where the cleaner had passed.

“Oooo,” Ron and Rufus cooed, impressed.

“That's ridiculously amazing. Or amazingly ridiculous.” Sheila put her hands on her hips. “How does that stuff work?”

“Ancient Japanese secret,” the younger girl chirped.

“Ah. So you stole it from China,” Sheila said in a tone of comprehension, nodding solemnly.

Yori went shifty-eyed. “… Maybe.”

“So what other neat stuff have we got in here?” Ron queried, opening up his own pack and starting to go through things.

“I would imagine typical things for such a mission,” Yori called from where she was spraying Ninja Vanish liberally over the entire bathroom. “A small compliment of weapons, tools such as screwdrivers and wire cutters, smoke bombs, assorted other items that might have been available or considered useful, food, entertainment materials…”

“Boy, they're smart on how they send people out for a two week mission,” Sheila said, impressed despite herself that entertainment was considered a necessity for long missions. She paused in going through the pack she'd been carrying, then lifted out a magazine with a glossy cover. She turned it to one side and opened it, a tri-sectioned page dropping down. “… Very smart.”

“What was whoooooooooa.” Ron had leaned over to see what had gotten Shego's attention, and his jaw dropped, saucer-sized eyes fixed on the page.

“That is a very artfully-designed netting bodysuit,” Sheila commented, eyebrows raised high.

“They included bodysuits?” Yori said brightly as she emerged from the bathroom. Then she stopped and stared, before snatching the magazine out of Shego's hands. “Who put Ninjaboys in here?!”

“Probably the same considerate soul that included Ninjagirl, too,” Sheila replied cheerfully, pulling out another magazine and opening it. “Now that is one big kunai.”

Yori looked towards the other woman, starting to say something, and being interrupted by her jaw dropping. Pink slowly flooded her cheeks, until she managed to grab the second magazine away from Sheila as well. Looking back and forth for something to latch onto, she found it and whirled to face Ron, shoving the black bottle towards him. “Stoppable-san! It is your honor to complete cleaning the cabin!”

“Uh, but I-”

“It. Is. Your. Honor,” Yori clarified, leaning in and speaking between gritted teeth.

“Suddenly I'm feeling very honorable,” Ron said with a gulp, snagging the bottle and hurrying to the other side of the cabin.

Yori puffed out a sigh, then blinked and glanced down. She only had one magazine under her arm. She looked aside and found Sheila sitting with her legs folded, nose buried in the copy of Ninjagirl.

“Aaaah! Go-saaaan!” Yori grabbed for the copy, but Sheila held her at bay with a foot planted against her face, leaving the Japanese girl flailing madly.

“I'm reading it for the articles, lemmelone!”

---

Yori knelt in the dirt to one side of the cabin, having cleared a patch of slightly damp earth earlier and smoothed it out. She used quick, careful strokes of the kunai she was holding as she spoke.

“The camp, as we were told, is located here, at the base of a small mountain. Taller mountains surround it here and here. The site is blocked from view on this side by the forest, whose line extends to here.”

Sheila squatted more inelegantly to one side of the sketch. She'd been busy overnight since yesterday, having modified her ninja uniform to have slightly flared shoulders above the sleeves, to bare a two-inch swath of her forearms above her gloves, and cut the fingers off of them. She'd also wrapped her chest and extended the black wraps up along her throat.

Eyeing the overall look for a moment, she nodded, reaching behind her back to pull out her own kunai and add to the sketch. “Okay, helps put what I learned in perspective. They bring the trucks in along this path. From the smell, I'd guess one moves through there every couple of days. But there's a lighter smell and some different tracks, so I'm guessing they're using ORVs to spell their workers by ferrying men in and out. No ORVs there now, they must be below their full compliment.”

She pointed at the two triangles Yori had used to indicate mountains. “They're staying away from here, and from some of the rocks and boulders sitting in churned-up ground, they're probably afraid of rockslides. That means they probably occur naturally around here, good news for us.” Sheila drew the point of the kunai barely behind the treeline Yori had made. “There's not sniff one of anybody going more than a few trees in, and from the smell only to use a tree when their chemical toilets are busy or messed up.”

Ron moved to squat down on the side opposite from Shego, eyeing the diagram thoughtfully. Then he gave a decisive nod. “… Dinner's ready.”

“Ah, excellent! Stoppable-san's twist on instant curry!” Yori said happily, clapping her hands together.

“Yeah, let's eat,” Sheila agreed brusquely, rising to her feet and stalking towards the cabin.

“Ah, Go-san…?”

“Huh?” The green-skinned girl stopped, Ron walking past her and inside. Yori came up and gently touched her arm.

“Are you… alright?”

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

“You seem a little… flushed.” Yori tilted her head, lamely indicating Shego's slightly pinkened cheeks, the color odd on the pale green skin. “And you also seem a little… off, for lack of better terms.”

“M'fine.” Sheila shrugged. “I've been running around all day dodging guys and trying to gather intel, s'probably why I seem a little worked up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.” She shrugged off Yori's hand, turning her back pointedly on the other girl and walking into the cabin.

“… Very well.”

---

A veritable plague of mishaps soon began vexing the “archaeological dig”. Equipment battery lines developed frayed cables that caused hours of delay before they were discovered. Flashlight and helmet light batteries died at an alarming rate. A tree fell and blocked the trail when fresh workers were intended to come in, wasting an entire day in everyone clearing it out.

Morale certainly began to decline. There were whispers that the site was being plagued by the ghosts of the family they were disturbing.

---

“A most productive night,” Yori announced cheerfully as she and Ron approached the cabin. “The slow leaks in their tires should not show for days. Were you able to put the corrupting agent in their generator's gas tank?”

“Sorry, Yori, somebody was sitting right near it. If they don't suspect sabotage, they're at least getting paranoid.” Ron sighed heavily, then gave an impish grin. “So I just settled for sprinkling the ipecac from my emergency medical kit in the pot of stew that looked like it was tomorrow's breakfast.”

“Oh, Stoppable-san, you and your silly American improvisation,” Yori said with a giggle, smiling brightly at Ron as he pushed the door of the cabin open.

“Hey, what's that smell?” Ron blinked, his nose wrinkling. “What the heck did Sheila make herself for dinner?”

Yori took a few curious sniffs herself as well, the scent vaguely familiar. Then it clicked, and her eyes widened. Coughing, she whirled towards Ron. “Stoppable-san, I just realized, tonight is colder than expected! It would be your honor to retrieve wood for a fire!”

“So honored,” Ron said in a resigned tone, grabbing the sling-backpack from beside the door and traipsing out into the woods.

Yori quickly closed the door, then let out a relieved sigh. She paused for a moment to collect herself, then ventured further into the room. Sheila didn't seem to be in any of the bedrolls, and drawing closer to the bathroom allowed her to hear the faint patter of the shower. She took a longer look around. There was a matted and crumpled magazine laying near one wall, as if it had been thrown and rebounded; a closer glance revealed it to be a copy of Ninjagirl. Yori noticed more magazines laying in haphazard spots near the bedrolls and a yanked-open backpack that they must have come from, before she focused on the matter at hand. Knocking lightly on the bathroom door, she called, “Go-san? Are you alright…?”

“Fine!” Sheila shouted back snappishly, voice obviously angry, albeit muffled by the door. “Can't I get a moment's privacy in this damn place?!”

“… I ask your forgiveness,” Yori replied, rather shocked. The other woman had never spoken to her like that before, though she expected it was more typical of her before her relationship with Kim.

“Whatever,” came the muffled reply.

Yori drew away, considering for a moment, then decided that the best thing to do was to clean up and pretend that nothing had happened. It was best to try and ignore uncomfortable things like this, after all, if they weren't really hurting anything, and whatever was going on was Shego's business.

She procured a can of air freshener and sprayed it in the air liberally as she went to retrieve the thrown magazine. It was twisted and almost ripped in half, as if it had been wound between Sheila's hands in frustration. Yori carried it back towards the bag it had come from, spraying more air freshener as she went. The smell was particularly strong in the area of Shego's bedroll, which was rumpled and twisted. Blushing furiously, Yori spritzed the freshener some more, finally deciding that if she used any more the other woman's sensitive nose would make her even more irritable. Her blush worsening, she turned her attention to gathering up the other magazines.

There was one more Ninjagirl, tossed towards the nearer wall. The rest were Ninjaboys, scattered about in a haphazard fashion, as if discarded with much less frustration. Yori piled them in her arm, then paused as she noticed that one was actually laying directly on the bedroll, still open to a specific page.

Yori considered for a few moments, before nervously picking up the magazine and actually looking at the open pages. The two photos were of an American girl who had apparently been in some branch of a ninja school for a few years, according to the text scattered around in black boxes where they wouldn't get in the way. Her hair was dark red, held up out of her eyes by a black headband with a blank silver plate on the front. Her eyes were light hazel, and in both pictures were partly-lidded, adding an impish, inviting tone to her coquettish smile. In one picture she was sitting on a rock formation with her hands on her knees, which were spread wide apart, giving an excellent view of the thin line of red hair above her sex. The other showed her laying on her back on a futon in a darkened, candlelit room, arms hugged under her chest to push her large (at least by Yori's definition) breasts up and together.

Yori looked at the layout for a few moments, then down at the stack of other magazines. Ninjaboy was a Japanese magazine, and proudly featured only women that were connected, at least in some small way, to actual ninjutsu. It was technically a fetish magazine, but quite appealed to actual ninjas as well as ninja otaku. But its subject matter meant that it featured almost exclusively Asian women.

There would certainly be no other redheads in the issues that had been tossed aside.

“Oh dear,” Yori murmured, sighing.

---

Yori was doing her best to will Ron to stay silent as Sheila spoke. The blonde boy was certainly not one who liked to confront problems, but the slightly sunken look of Shego's cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes were apparently making him worry. They worried Yori too, frankly, but she was firmly of the belief that it was simply none of her business.

“They're all excited. Talking about making the big find. I think they've uncovered the crypt of the ninja master that started this family line, and I think they're gonna start loading up his urn, swords, stuff like that, into the truck tomorrow.”

“The latest report says that the police are very close to finding the site,” Yori murmured. “At the most, within two days.”

“Then we need to make our push tonight. Really fuck ‘em up so that they're set back.”

Yori and Ron exchanged a glance, and the teenage girl cleared her throat. “Would not more subtle methods be better, to merely delay them? After all, if the danger increases too greatly, they might flee with what they have loaded, and what they have already removed to their B site might be lost forever.”

“No. We hit them hard and cripple them.” Sheila stabbed the kunai into one of the mountain markers. “Rockslide. We take out the truck. They're not going to risk putting that stuff in an ORV, and they've only got one there right now anyway. Just to make sure, we'll engineer a little gas leak here, where they keep the diesel for the generators. Boom. It'll get blamed on the rockslide, somehow.”

“… Go-san, this seems… very risky,” Yori said slowly.

“It's kinda big,” Ron agreed.

“Will this plan keep them from moving out on time?” Sheila said slowly and deliberately, glaring at them both. “Or won't it?”

“It seems that it will,” Yori had to admit. “But are you sure it is necessary?”

“It's not just necessary, it'll be fun,” Sheila replied with a distinctly unnerving smile, showing her fangs. “Yori, you're with me on making a rockslide. Stoppable, rat, you've got explosion duty, lucky you. Remember not to set it off until the rockslide's good and started. Got it?”

“Uh. Got it,” Ron murmured, clearly discontented. On his shoulder, Rufus grumbled in annoyance, saying several things that would have been deeply insulting to Sheila's ancestry if they'd been clearly understandable.

“Then let's get going. We've got a lot of destruction to do and only a few hours to get ready to do it.” Yanking up her kunai, Sheila tucked it into her belt as she stood and stalked away.

Yori bit her lip as Ron looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head and hurried after Sheila. The plan was viable, if risky and excessive. And perhaps it would exorcise whatever demons were currently plaguing their partner.

---

Yori crouched behind the boulder, stealing glances at the other woman. Sheila was fidgeting, shifting about in place and making little sounds of frustration low in her throat every so often.

“Go-san… I do not mean to, ah, pester… but are you sure there is nothing you'd like to tell me?”

“We should've just killed all of ‘em when we got here,” Sheila grumbled.

“… Ah?” Yori blinked.

“We could have killed ‘em all, dumped ‘em in the woods, buried their stuff in a rockslide, and we'd be done by now, instead of all this stupid waiting we've had to do.”

Yori stared. From what she knew of the green-skinned woman, patience had certainly never been her strong suit before, but she was surprised by such utter bloodthirstyness. Something was definitely wrong. But how to actually broach it without being unforgivably rude?

For the moment, it seemed it was out of her hands, as Sheila glanced up at the thin sliver of moon and nodded. “Time. Let's go.” Standing, she pressed her shoulder against the stone and heaved. Yori quickly stood and found her own grip, shoving hard. The boulder shifted ponderously, then began to tilt. The girls quickly scrambled back and behind another set of stones.

The boulder tumbled downward, striking a collection of similarly-sized stones, the impact setting off the small charges tucked into crevices and sending the whole lot rumbling down the mountainside, picking up momentum and additional detritus of stones and trees as they went.

Sheila peered over the stones, smirking broadly as the rockslide leapt over the edge of one abrupt drop, several boulders actually seeming to fall out of the sky onto the truck and some of the equipment. The panic that had just been starting below kicked into fever pitch as more rocks began flooding the site, made all the more chaotic by an explosion from one side of the camp, the flames apparently reaching far enough to set off a secondary explosion from the leaking gas of the crushed truck.

“Now there is a thing of beauty,” Sheila practically purred. Slipping into a crouch, she slunk away from the rock. “C'mon, let's get back to the homestead.”

“… Yes, Go-san.”

---

Sheila whooped with laughter as the three of them entered the house. “Oh man! I could barely contain myself, that was some of my finest work!”

“I gotta admit, the explosion -was- pretty cool,” Ron said with a grin, Rufus making a *bwshhhh!* sound and spreading his forepaws.

Yori smiled weakly, trying to share the others’ enthusiasm. It certainly did seem that the grave robbers had been thoroughly thwarted, even if the doing of it was less subtle than she believed Sujigaki-sensei had intended.

“Mmm, yeah, was great watching them run around, screaming, wetting themselves,” Sheila cooed, then turned towards Ron. “I think after that, we ought to celebrate.”

“I'll make some REALLY special instant curry!” Ron agreed, beaming.

“No, Stoppable, was thinking of something else,” Sheila purred, starting to walk towards him.

Ron's eyes widened at a look on Sheila's face that he had, quite frankly, never really expected to see a girl turn towards him. (Well, maybe when he'd had the money and Bonnie had seen him throw it around, but even with the green girl's fangs, Bonnie had still looked more predatory.) Sheila wasn't quite licking her lips, but even to a socially inept goober, he could tell that every movement she made was screaming sex in big, neon letters with a lot of flashing exclamation points.

Yori's jaw had dropped, and she was struck dumb with shock for a moment. Of all the outcomes she'd been worrying about of Sheila's odd behavior, this certainly hadn't been one of them.

“Aw, c'mon, Stoppable, I know you've always wanted a piece,” the green-skinned girl cooed sensually as Ron backed into a wall. “We can play hero and captured villainess. Or better yet, villainess and captured hero.” She pressed against Ron's front, one hand pressing his shoulder back against the wall, the other starting to slide up his thigh.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Hey, Sheila, quit it!” Ron squirmed, then yelped as her hand cupped his crotch. “Shego, seriously, stop it!”

“Go-san!” Yori grabbed Sheila's arm and yanked it away from Ron. “Stop this!”

Shego whirled at the yank, animal-like eyes flashing, fanged grin wicked. “What, you want in on this, kitten?” She grabbed the back of Yori's neck and hauled her in, kissing her roughly, her other hand grabbing the slim rise of one of the younger girl's breasts and squeezing.

Yori yelped with pain and indignation, slapping Shego's shoulders ineffectually a few times, before remembering that she was a ninja and she didn't have to take that crap. She hooked her leg behind Shego's knee and yanked, shoving her hands against the other woman's shoulders at the same time and sending Shego slamming to her back on the floor.

Snarling, her smile vicious now, Shego leapt to her feet and hunched her shoulders, gaze fixed in predator fashion on Yori as the girl dropped back and circled to one side, having taken a fighting stance. “That's fine, we can play it rough. I like that.”

She darted forward, only to have the side of Yori's hand slam against the juncture of her shoulder and neck, staggering her briefly. The ninja fell back a bit again and circled to the side, her expression drawn and tight. Shego growled again, and actually leapt this time. Yori grabbed for her wrist and tried to throw her, but Shego twisted her body enough to unbalance her, sending them both crashing to the ground.

On the floor, superior strength quickly won out as Shego forced Yori onto her back, pinning her hands above her head, one hand pressing painfully down on both the Japanese girl's slender wrists. Smirking, Shego grabbed the front of Yori's shirt and dug in her claws, yanking hard and ripping it open, revealing the slender curves of the Japanese girl's chest. “Now, since you wanted to play rough, we can-”

Shego's announcement of just what they could do was cut off as she made a sound like a stepped-on cat, a wave of ice-cold water having splashed across her. Her hair limp and dripping, she shook herself, looking over to the side. “What the hell?!”

Ron was standing nearby, holding an empty bucket and scowling. “Figured I'd give you a chance to come to your senses.”

The older girl blinked her slit-pupiled eyes a few times, staring at him for a moment, then looking down at the prone form under her, gaze lighting on Yori's defiant face. Her eyes widened in horror, and she yanked her hand away from the other girl's wrists as if scalded, scrambling backwards until she thudded against a wall and sat there, shocked.

Yori slowly stood, one arm held across her chest, tears gathered at the corner of her eyes. She gave a muted sniffle, before she said, her voice thick, “Go-san, explain yourself.”

“I… I…” Sheila pushed her fingers into her hair, wide eyes turning to stare down at the floor, her breathing starting to come in fast, panicked pants. “I don't know, I… Jesus, Jesus Christ, I'm sorry, Yori I'm sorry, Ron, I…”

“Bruising as it might be to my ego,” Ron said slowly, setting the bucket down. “I don't figure I'm your type. Especially since your type is KP, these days.”

“Kim,” Sheila said, her voice a tight, tiny squeak. She wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging them tightly to her, starting to rock back and forth a little.

“…” Yori took a deep, shaky breath, then let it out. She dug a t-shirt out of one of the packs and, doing her best to be quick and efficient, tossed her ninja suit top and pulled the shirt on. Then she walked over towards Sheila, keeping a bit of distance. “Go-san…” She paused, then said, quietly, “Sheila.”

Sheila raised her gaze a bit, looking at Yori ashamedly.

“This is more than just… missing… Possible-san. I have only known you for a few months, but this was not you. Please tell us what's really been happening.”

“… She's my mate,” Sheila forced out in a raw whisper, starting to tremble. “I know it sounds stupid, but she is. Last week, I started… I felt like I was coming apart, aching, hurting all over. I needed her so bad, and I… I felt like I was just coming apart, unraveling completely. I couldn't keep it together, everything just frustrated me even more.”

“And so you unraveled to the point where you needed anyone,” Yori said calmly. “Not just your mate.”

Sheila gave a tiny nod, pressing her face back against her legs.

Ron cleared his throat. “Um, not to piss anyone off here, but… uh, you think maybe you were in heat?”

Yori shot Ron a look that was half anger and half bemusement. Sheila raised her head enough to stare at him, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well, you don't really know how your, uh… your new thing does stuff. You haven't seen KP in almost three months, which is a long time for anybody to go without seeing somebody they love. Maybe for you it's different, maybe your body actually… needs… y'know…”

“Isn't that just perfect,” Sheila murmured miserably. “You're probably right.”

Yori looked back and forth between the two, then sighed, crouching down to be closer to Sheila's eye level. “You have been making great strides towards control. While your instincts may be animal, you are still human. Perhaps what you need, as much as anything else, is to be reminded you are cared about and that others are here for you.”

“Huh?”

“It has been a tiring night for all of us. We will get some sleep, together, and remain close to one another.”

Sheila looked back and forth between them, then averted her gaze towards the floor. “How can you trust me? How can you stand to look at me, let alone touch me, after what I tried to do?”

“I will not try to say that it was not shocking and frightening. But you did not do it intentionally. My friend had a problem, and I want to try to make sure that doesn't happen again.”

Sheila turned her head towards Ron who, though blushing, simply nodded, Rufus giving a tiny thumbs-up from his shoulder. Swallowing, she nodded. “… Okay. Let's try it.”

After a round of showers and changed clothes, the three of them began arranging the sleeping rolls, having dressed almost identically in black gi pants and t-shirts, though Ron had chosen a long-sleeved variety. After some experimentation, they found that putting all three together wasn't likely to work, but that the girls’ backs were big enough that, when zipped together, it was roomy enough for all three.

Yori scooted into her side of the bag, Shego sliding in along the middle and shifting nervously. Ron, far more edgy about this due to years of being told that touching a girl inappropriately could lead to slaps, arrest, and lawsuits, edged as far into his side of the bag as he could.

Finally, having decided they were as comfortable as they were likely to get for the moment, Yori reached over and turned down the lantern until it went out. Darkness fell in the cabin, the very faintest squares of light painted on the floor from the barely-there moon and stars.

Yori shifted onto her side and stared at where she knew the wall was, trying not to feel nervous about the warmth and light pressure of Sheila behind her. She'd said the woman was her friend, and it was true. She'd just never said it before. She wondered if Sheila even acknowledged it, or if this was just something she was doing to try and not descend into bestial madness.

She stiffened a little as the other woman rolled over to face her back, then forced herself to relax. If she said she trusted Sheila, she was going to have to actually do so. Yori was glad she'd relaxed, since the other woman's movements felt very tentative as she slid an arm across her, letting it rest carefully.

When no protest came, and more time passed without incident, Sheila gently snuggled in against Yori's back and hugged the arm around her more firmly. Yori blushed, but realized that the arm felt more protective than anything. She'd been right to trust… her friend would never hurt her if it could truly be helped.

Sheila sighed a little, closing her eyes and inhaling, feeling the gentle brush of Yori's hair against her face as she did. She hadn't let herself really get a good, deep smell of anyone since Kim had left, at times breathing shallowly just to avoid it. On some level, she'd been afraid that really getting a scent from anyone else might somehow cheapen what she'd felt when she'd really, truly taken in Kim's.

As the unique swirl of scent markers from Yori threaded their way into some place deep in her brain, though, she realized that she'd been wrong. Actually taking someone's scent mark would only increase whatever importance she gave them. And she was starting to realize that the two people in the bedroll with her were more important than she'd given them credit for.

She blinked a bit in surprise as Ron actually rolled over and scooted closer behind her, then slowly put his arm across her, resting his hand on Yori's side. She resisted the urge to chuckle. ‘He must be getting braver.’ Closing her eyes, she pondered the feel of the arm laying across her. There had been times where even covers or clothing had felt like they were restraining her, and Kim was certainly the only person she'd ever thought she'd be able to get all wrapped up in. But this just felt… safe.

Sheila slowly faded down into sleep, and her last thought before she did welled up from somewhere inside her, a deep, animal purr of contentment from the creature. ‘My pack.’

---

“They are packing up, but they're being awfully slow about it,” Sheila observed, peering through the binoculars at the people milling about the dig site. “Must not be able to get another truck in anytime soon.”

Yori nodded, looking over the slim line of paper with code written on it. “The police are on their way. They're setting up a sting for the truck when it does come, and they've already blockaded the path out. They'll be moving in to arrest the workers here in about two hours.”

“Are we gonna stay and help?” Ron asked.

“Master Sujigaki said we could, but I think we should stay out of things unless it seems like the police cannot handle it. It's best that we do not interfere more than necessary.”

“Oh, sure, -now- we stop interfering,” Sheila said with a wry chuckle, lowering the binoculars and standing. “Let's go ahead and pack up the stuff in the cabin, either way we're gonna be outta here in the morning, looks like.”

Yori nodded, she and Ron standing as well, the Japanese girl turning and heading for the cabin first. As the blonde started to as well, he was held back by a call of, “Hey, Ron.”

“Yeah?” Ron blinked at Sheila as she walked over to him.

“I know I've been a real bitch on wheels lately. I wanted to say sorry for that, not just last night.”

“Pfft. No big.” Ron waved a hand dismissively. “I mean, you were basically sick, right? People get all kinds of grumpy when they're sick. You should see KP with the flu!”

“Oh goody, something else to look forward to,” Sheila murmured dryly, shaking her head. “Still. I know I said we'd try to be buddies, but I didn't really know how bad I needed a buddy.” She snagged Ron by the wrist and pulled him in, hugging him. “Thanks.”

“Awww, gratuitous affection moment,” Ron muttered nervously, but put his arms around Sheila and hugged back all the same. He blinked a little as he felt her inhale deeply against his scalp. “Uh, whatcha doin’?”

“I'll explain some other time, maybe.” Sheila released him, then gave him a pat on the shoulder and pointed. “G'wan, help Yori pack up, I'll be there in a minute.”

Ron nodded, turning and trotting off towards the cabin. Sheila waited a few moments for him to be out of sight, then raised her hand and opened it to reveal Rufus, who she'd plucked out of the blonde's pocket when she hugged him. “As for you.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Were you sleeping in my hair last night?”

Rufus went shifty-eyed. “… Mebbe.”

Sheila eyed him for a few more seconds, then snickered. “Well, as long as sleeping's all you do in there, it's fine.” She leaned in and sniffed his head, causing Rufus to squeak loudly and jabber out a few seemingly incomprehensible lines at high speed. “No, I'm not smelling you to see how you'd taste.” Shego set him on her shoulder and started back towards the cabin, rolling her eyes as he continued jabbering at her. “Yes, okay, I'm -sorry- about the protein remark, but you've gotta admit that Ron's attempt to translate was funny. … My grammar was -not- off! … Are you sure? … Well, crap, I've been making that mistake since sixth grade then.”

---

The workman ran through the woods, breathing hard and glancing behind him repeatedly to see if the police chasing him had given up yet. Then he yelped as his foot caught something and he went sprawling. He looked around wildly as he scrambled to his feet, knowing he must have tripped over a root but not seeing anything. Hurling himself forward again, he sprinted forward, only to scream and take off running in a random direction as a large snake dropped to the ground in front of him and hissed.

It must have been his sheer panic that caused him not to notice that the tree branch was a lot lower than it had looked like it was from further off. When the police found him, he was laying on his back, his dazed state causing him to grin idiotically and displaying the prominent lack of his two front teeth.

As they cuffed him and manhandled him to his feet, a trio of black-clad figures in the branches above gave each other thumbs-up signals, and silently leapt away.

---

Sheila sat cross-legged in Sujigaki-sensei's sparse room, hands resting on her knees. The old man was sitting on a raised dais in front of her, his swords displayed prominently behind him.

“I do not recall mentioning explosions in your mission statement,” he said coolly.

Sheila resisted the urge to wince. She hadn't exactly been in her right mind at the time… she had a bit of a thing for wanton destruction, but she usually controlled it better, even when she'd been an out-and-out villain. At that point in the mission, however, she either needed to fuck something or blow something up, and had, in the end, gone for both. Not her finest hour. Perhaps that explained why she couldn't resist the urge to be a bit of a sarcastibitch now.

“I don't recall you actually forbidding them, either,” she pointed out in her most reasonable tone.

Sujigaki stared at her. Then he ducked his head and chuckled. If Sheila hadn't already been sitting down, it would have floored her.

“No. Obviously I will have to remember to include that in mission statements, where appropriate.” Shaking his head, Sujigaki looked at her again. “I also understand you had some other difficulties.”

Still shocked, Sheila simply nodded mutely.

“You have a great personal challenge that it's unlikely any of the rest of us can understand. It is good that you did not let it defeat you, and that you had help to fight it. I think your path to conquering the animal within has been laid out before you… in part.”

“In part?” Sheila echoed.

“I do not doubt it will be a long path, and only part of it will be walked at this school. When the time comes that it takes you from here, I will do my best to help.”

“Uh… thanks, I guess.” Sheila gave her head a quick shake. “Not to be toooo disrespectful, sensei, but what burrowed into your skull and took over your body?”

“Perhaps I've merely exchanged the twig for something smaller,” he replied thoughtfully.

Sheila choked a bit.

“It -is- a ninja academy, I will remind you.”

“Uh… right.” Clearing her throat, Sheila squared her shoulders. “So what now?”

“Training continues. Yori already knows that I am perhaps not quite as much of a ‘hardass’ as I seem. That part of it is playacting is something I reveal only to the most promising students, those who have had breakthroughs.”

“Thanks, then, I guess. Uh, sensei.”

“Though what I said before was, in part, to bring you to a realization, I do feel that you have more than earned being known by your Honor Name. You may reclaim the name Shego, if you wish.”

The green-skinned girl closed her eyes for a moment, then shook her head. “… I'll know when I'm ready. I took being a student too lightly the first time. This time, I wanna make sure that I've given it my all and really earned what comes from it.”

“As you wish. Ron's breakthrough is close in coming, I think. Until then, I ask that you not speak of this with him.”

“I guess I can do that. Does this mean that you'll stop thwacking me with that switch of yours?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“Good, because it really wasn't very effective.”

“Ah?” Sujigaki raised a single eyebrow. “The pain was not enough?”

“More that the pain was just the right amount, if you know what I mean.”

The old man stared blankly at his pupil. “I do not.”

“I liked it.”

“… You… liked it?”

“Yeah, I liked it. You're gonna have to find a spare one of those for me so I can give it to Kimmy when we hook back up.”

Sujigaki blinked.

“Though she probably won't get the hang of it as well as you right off, obviously.” Shego unfolded her legs and stood, then turned and sauntered towards the door, giving a little wave without looking back. “For an older guy, you sure know how to treat a girl, sensei.”

Sujigaki sat silently in the empty room for long moments after she'd left. A cold wind blew in from somewhere, snuffing out the candles at the edges of the dais, whereupon he slowly tilted to the side and fell over.

---

Ron tossed and turned, then flopped onto his back with an arm across his forehead, sighing. He'd had trouble sleeping when he first arrived, partly from being in a new place, partly from knowing he didn't have all that much time in which to sleep. But he'd learned to sleep and rise easily by the second month, and his current sleeplessness was confusing him.

He blinked and raised his head a little as he heard the barest whisper from his door sliding open and closed. He saw the faint movement of a shadow, then heard a whispered, “I'd ask if you were asleep, but I can see and hear that you're not.”

“Sheila? What's up?” Ron propped himself up on his elbow, Rufus giving a sleepy grumble from nearby.

“I can't sleep worth a damn. Don't let it go to your head, blondie, but I think I may be hooked.”

“Uh… oh! Oh, you mean…” Ron blushed, then nodded. “I guess as long as you don't get caught in here, that'd be fine.”

“Your graciousness towards the girl wanting to slip into your bed is noted,” Sheila teased, waiting for Ron to edge over on the mat before settling down in front of him. He scooted up behind her and draped his arm over, already feeling himself start to relax in a way he hadn't been able to all night.

Everything was quiet, save for the sound of two people and one naked mole rat breathing contentedly, until a soft voice cleared its throat. “I beg forgiveness for this intrusion, but…”

“C'mere, Yoyo,” Sheila murmured sleepily, reaching out to snag the shadow crouched by the bed and pulling it against her front. Yori squeaked a bit at being hauled in, then settled back against the other girl.

---

Weeks passed, and the other ninja quickly learned that the trio of students who had recently arrived at the same time were an inseparable unit. They trained together, ate together, and there were even rumors that they were sleeping together. (Some rumors more tawdry, elicit, and purple-prosed than others.) Sujigaki-sensei always sent the three of them on missions, and had yet to break up the group or include anyone else in it.

Some called the three codependent and snickered behind their backs that it apparently took the three of them to make up one whole ninja. These snickerings tapered off after the green-skinned one apparently heard some of it from over fifteen feet away, and dangled the wit over the edge of the defensive wall by one ankle. For some reason, when Sujigaki-sensei approached with his switch, he suddenly looked rather uncomfortable, and instead had given a lecture on how rumor-mongering and childish retaliation were traits unbefitting ninjas and adults.

The blonde one was the much-talked-about master of Tai Shing Pek Kwar, and thus rarely singled out from the trio. But there were a number of students who felt that the young Yamanouchi must be the weak link of the trio, being propped up by the other two and by Master Sensei's favoritism, since the old man had practically raised her.

It was considered a dead lock when one of the school's best, Hinsei Tsukaisute, had challenged her to a “friendly” sparring match. Tsukaisute had a half foot of height and three years of training on Yori, and the betting pool had exceptionally long odds on the younger girl.

And indeed, the match had seemed over early when Tsukaisute had used her nunchaku to wrap and throw Yori's wooden practice fans, sacrificing her own weapons to rob the younger student of hers. Yori was an accomplished ninja, but Tsukaisute had specialized in bare-hands ninjutsu for a year before choosing the nunchaku.

That Yori would mix in some Tai Shing Pek Kwar with her ninjutsu was to be expected. It was one of the establishing styles of the Yamanoichi school, and most students knew at least a little. Tsukaisute had, in fact, been chosen because she knew a fair amount herself.

What hadn't been expected was the other style that Yori used to effectively devastate her larger, more experienced opponent. Monkey Kung Fu countered the same from Tsukaisute, whereupon Yori would attack with quick, vicious strikes of her stiffened fingers at any opening she could find. Eventually, her ribs hurting every time she breathed and her morning meal close to coming back to visit her, Tsukaisute raised a hand to call an end to the sparring session, stepping back to try and regain her composure, resting an arm across her middle.

“What… what was that you were using?”

“Claw Branch, Ancestral Three Dragons style,” Sheila commented with dry amusement from the side of the practice mat. “A pretty spiffy variant, too.”

Yori nodded, smiling as she straightened and bowed to her opponent, who belatedly remembered her manners and did the same.

Tsukaisute frowned, turning towards the green-skinned foreigner. “That is your style, is it not?” At the other girl's nod, she continued. “But what she was using did not look like yours.”

“Of course. The branches of the Three Dragons style are almost as much philosophy as actual moves. She doesn't have claws, either weapons or her own natural ones.” Sheila held up one hand, the curved, black claws sliding out of the tips of her fingers and making a number of students take a few steps back. “So Yori, smart girl that she is, adapted what she learned from watching me and sparring with me. She learned the right way to move her arms, to evade and attack while blocking as little as possible, and to go right for the openings you see. That's the way of the Claw.”

Tsukaisute paused for a moment, then nodded and bowed to Sheila. “I and others have been… mistaken. I apologize, and thank you for the lesson.”

There had been a time, not very long ago, where she would have shoved the knife in a bit deeper and twisted good and hard. Taken that admission and run with it, used it to wring whatever humiliation she could out of the other woman, and send her off with laughter still ringing in her ears.

But that wasn't the lesson she'd learned. There was a time and place for quips and insults. It wasn't here. Sheila returned the bow in her own manner, then straightened up. “Lessons just litter the floor around here. Don't mention it.”

Yori moved to rejoin her friends, and they waited until the others had cleared out of the room before Ron whooped loudly and threw his hands up, and Sheila threw an arm around the shorter girl's neck and rumpled her hair. Rufus jumped up and down from Ron's shoulder like a pink superball, cheering squeakily.

“Way to go, Yoyo!” Sheila said with a laugh, releasing her friend after her hair was thoroughly mussed.

“I wish you would not use that nickname in public,” Yori murmured abashedly, running her hands over her hair to try and smooth it back into its normal coif.

“We'll go along with Japanese sensibilities as far as not mauling you with other people around, but don't expect too much.” Still grinning, Sheila slapped her on the shoulder. “Aren't you the little style thief! I'm damn proud of you, you realize that?”

“I'm proud of you, too!” Ron added. “You really whooped her butt!”

“Yup, butt-whoopin'!” Rufus chirped.

“It would not have been possible without all I have learned from both of you.” Yori smiled brightly, tucking her hands behind her back. “I have become stronger because of our bond… you have both taught me so much.”

“Aw, c'mon. You've learned a lot from Sheila, but you're just bein’ nice now,” Ron murmured, rubbing the back of his head.

Yori blinked, glancing at Sheila, who simply rolled her eyes. “But… Stoppable-san, that isn't true at all.”

“Yori, I know I like to act like I'm all cool and stuff, but I know I'm a goof. If it weren't for those monkey statues, I wouldn't even be here in the first place.”

Yori started to say something, but the blonde boy was already dashing off.

“Anyway, I gotta go, ‘nother obstacle course to suck at! Seeya at dinner!”

The girls stared after him, Sheila sighing and shaking her head.

“He still hasn't realized it?” Yori murmured, looking at her friend.

“I think that's what Sujigaki's waiting on,” Sheila mused. “For Ron to realize he's kind of already a badass.”

---

Ron tried to calm his stomach as he stared at the obstacle course. It was meaner than usual, with hammers slamming together, blades slicing past one another at intervals, a rope swing over spikes that shot up seemingly at random, and perplexingly enough, a tub full of oil.

Looking aside at the elder student overlooking the course while Sujigaki-sensei watched from a bit further off, he pointed at the course, voice rising a little hysterically. “Who comes up with this stuff anyway?!”

The student blinked, then pointed off to the side. “Ninja trap division, of course.”

Ron looked over at the small group of thin, weasely-looking ninjas, many of whom were wearing odd sort of monocle contraptions over one eye, all of whom were rubbing their hands together and cackling maniacally. He looked back at the test proctor.

“Okay, they really creep me out.”

The proctor nodded solemnly.

“Do you assign guys to that because they look that way, or do they just wind up like that after awhile?”

The proctor raised one hand and waggled it noncommittally.

“I'm gonna die, aren't I?”

“Probably. The spikes are probably poisoned, too.”

“Just checkin’.”

Rufus squealed and dived into his pocket, huddling inside and trembling.

Ron stared at the obstacle course flatly, letting his mind wander as he tended to let it before these kinds of things. He didn't want to think too hard about how badly he was about to be mangled. It drifted back to the conversation of twenty minutes earlier.

‘Learned a lot from me, yeah right. I'm just the sidekick. Yori's nice and all, but sometimes she takes that stuff too far. All I've got is the “Ron Factor”, which is probably bogus anyway. Oh, yeah, and Mystical Monkey Power I didn't earn -or- want. I can't believe I've managed to survive all the stuff I've been through with KP only to die in yet another ridiculously dangerous obstacle course at an elite ninja school.’

Ron's ego, which inflated and deflated more often than Oprah Winfrey, rolled its eyes and finally got tired of this shit. In desperation, it put in a call to a rare visitor to Ron's head, Reality. Reality took a few moments to look around its unfamiliar surroundings, commented politely on the decor, then blackjacked Ron's insecurities before punching him right between the eyes.

‘Holy crap!’ Ron's eyes widened. ‘I not only have Mystical Monkey Power, -I've survived all the stuff I've been through with KP-! And I've even survived a whole bunch of these obstacle courses! At an elite ninja school! OH HOLY CRAP I'M A NINJA!’

The course proctor reached forward, intending to give Ron a push into the course to get him started on his usual yelping, stumbling scramble through the danger. He almost fell off the platform as the blonde leapt forward before he could make contact.

Ron's momentum carried him past the first set of hammers, which slammed together just past his feet, the second set already swinging inwards. Ron landed and did a straight upward flip, bracing his hands against the tops of the hammers as they came together and propelling himself forward in another flip. As the third set swung inward, he snapped his feet out to the sides in a splits-kick, bare soles smashing through the wooden shafts and sending the hammer heads tumbling.

The teenager landed and braced a foot on one of the fallen hammers, shoving it forward and into the sweeping blades. Three of them sliced inward and cut deeply into the sides of the stout wood, but were stopped with enough room for Ron to dart along the top of the cylinder. He tumbled forward past the fourth blade, and came to his feet to smoothly spin past the other two.

He leapt up towards the rope, swinging himself along with lanky movements of his arms that swung his body up, bringing him out of the reach of even the tallest of spikes. As all of the spikes shot up under the last rope, he latched his feet around it and swung himself horizontally over them, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub and vaulting over to land with his feet on the other side. He balanced for a moment, before jumping down and over the finish line. Rufus poked his head out of Ron's pocket, giving a squeak of surprise.

The ninja trap squad looked like they'd be needing forklifts to get their jaws off the floor.

‘I did it!’ Ron thought exultantly. ‘What's more, I believed I could do it the entire time I was doing it! I really -am- a ninja!’

He blinked as Sujigaki-sensei approached, the white-haired man gazing down at him sternly.

“Meet me in my room, alone. We must talk.”

With that, he swept off, taking some of Ron's good spirits with him. But the blonde had more than enough to go around. He turned and trotted over to the test proctor, still buzzed over not only having survived, but not having looked like an idiot while he did it.

“Who da man? Huh, who da man?”

“You da man, apparently,” the proctor murmured, eyes still wide in shock.

“Hey, I gotta ask ya, what was with the big tub of oil? Was I supposed to kinda dance across it like they do in kung fu movies?”

“Uh, no, actually. We were expecting you to survive all the actually dangerous stuff, then just fall in the oil because it would be humiliating, because we noticed that happens to you a lot. And we were hoping your friends might come by to help you get out.” The older ninja looked down, tapping his index fingertips together. “And… y'know… maybe start wrestling a little.”

“Duuude, that is hot, but wrong.” Ron paused to consider for a moment, then raised a finger sagely. “Hot…” Then he pointed the finger at the proctor, shaking his head scoldingly. “… But wrong.”

The proctor hung his head.

---

Ron poked his head tentatively into the large, formal-looking room people usually spoke to Sujigaki-sensei in. “Um, you wanted to see me, sensei, sir?”

“Enter. Close the door.”

Wondering just what he'd done wrong now that he'd stopped looking like a buffoon during training, Ron slipped inside and closed the door after himself.

“Have a seat, Ron.”

“Uh, yessir. Sensei. Sir.” Ron dropped to the floor, folding his legs.

“You have claimed confidence on the field, you might see about claiming some in your speech.”

Ron stared rather blankly. Finally, he gave a small, “Huh?”

“Confidence is a path to many things, just as overconfidence is the downfall of them. You have only visited the extremes of these two.” Sujigaki tilted his head slightly. “In a way, you are a young man of many extremes. You have few friends, but those you do have are exceptional, and very devoted. You are either too full of yourself, or too full of doubt. You either see into what is going on with exceptional keenness, or let yourself be blind.”

“I… I guess?” Ron blinked, confused.

“Balance is one of the necessities of the way of the martial artists. When meditating, you must try not only to balance your ki, but all of your life. Balance confidence in your skills and your friends with knowledge of your true flaws and realism. Balance forthrightness with reserve, pride with humility. All things in their place.

“You have been, in many ways, a very fine student. Now, almost half a year into your stay with us, you are beginning to become the exceptional one I knew you could be.”

“… Th-… thank you, sensei,” Ron whispered, actually feeling a little choked up.

“Go now. Truly meditate. Seek your balance on at least one matter for the evening, uninterrupted by any, even your friends.

Nodding, Ron rose and, glancing back once, left the sensei's room to find a quiet place to think.

---

His mind never seemed more active than when he was trying to calm it. But he tried to use the confidence he knew he had… and the confidence others had shown in him… to convince himself he could do it. It helped, and thoughts of Bueno Nacho, Kim, his parents, what Rufus was doing right now, and how lucky he had been to be right up on the field when the cheerleaders did pyramids all slowly died down as he focused on one thing.

Yori.

He'd tried not to think about her basically admitting she liked-him-liked-him. After all, they'd been apart for awhile after that, and a lot had changed since then. (Heck, even DNAmy had gone back to as normal as she got.) Besides, there was the repeating thought that no cute girl could truly be interested in plain old Ron Stoppable.

Except that, as he focused his thoughts on her, he realized that wasn't it at all. Yori was still interested. A thousand, a hundred thousand, tiny clues started becoming clear to him as he examined the last six months. The way she touched his hand at times, the way she always gave that little extra squeeze at the end when she snuck the occasional hug, the way she always relaxed a little more when his hand touched her side in bed. Those and other things he had either ignored or written off as his own wishful thinking or misinterpretation of innocent, friendly affection.

Yori was sweet, smart, talented, dedicated to him and his friends, and he was now utterly positive that she was crazy about him.

‘Confidence is a path to many things.’

Nodding solemnly, Ron stood and walked towards the dorms.

---

Yori blinked and looked up from darning a hole in her spare gi as her room door slid open, Ron standing there looking at her intently.

“Oh, Stoppable-san. We missed you at dinner tonight.”

Ron stepped in, sliding the door closed behind him. Then he pounced through the air towards Yori, who squeaked in surprise.

“Yeep! Stoppable-san!” … “Ooooo, Ron…”

---

Sheila blinked and looked up from her book as something caught her attention. Atop her head, Rufus made an inquiring sound.

“That sound like one of Yori's squeaks, to you?”

“Iunno,” Rufus replied, shrugging his little shoulders.

Sheila tilted her head, then blinked. “Well -that- sure as hell sounded like something.” She turned onto her hands and knees and crawled to the wall that separated her room from Yori's, putting her ear to it. After a moment, she blinked, moving her head away and looking the wall up and down as if not entirely sure it was the right one. Then she put her ear back to it. Slowly, she started to grin. “Huh, someone located his cojones and decided to put them to use.”

“Ee, naughty,” Rufus squealed, covering his ears.

Hmming, Sheila listened intently, then went wide-eyed. “Yow. Talk about your freaky monkey sex.”

“Heeeey,” Rufus cautioned, bapping her on the head with one tiny paw.

“Hey, it's been a long time for me, alright?” the green-skinned girl grumbled, leaning back from the wall to prop herself up on her hands while sitting. She rubbed her face with one hand, adding in a mutter, “At least I don't seem to be going into heat again. Notwithstanding it being set off by the likes of that, if it can happen.”

Rufus gave a tiny groan, obviously remembering the trouble that had resulted from last time.

“I'll deal. But besides only having you to snuggle tonight, I'm not gonna lose sleep -and- listen to that all night.” Sheila snagged her book and stood. “C'mon, we're gonna go sleep in Ron's room.”

“M'kay,” Rufus agreed, yawning as if the very mention of sleep made him tired.

“Yeah, you and me both,” Sheila said in a weary tone, trudging down the hall. “Lord I miss my Kimmy.”

---

Sheila awoke, as she usually did, due to the sound and smell of other people stirring in the hallway outside. Today, however, both sounds and smells were heavier. ‘Boys?’ She blinked, then sat up and cursed quietly. ‘Crap! I forgot, I'm in Ron's room!’ She glanced around, then swore again. ‘And he's not!’

Luckily, Sheila was likely one of the three sneakiest people in the entire ninja school, due to the daily additional practice of sneaking dinner bowls out of the cafeteria, as well as turns at sneaking them back into the kitchen later. She was starting to wish they alternated sleeping in her room or Yori's, however, so that she could get some practice at changing rooms in the middle of the night, too.

She did, however, know some of the basics. The windows, despite not opening, could actually be slid out of the walls if you tucked something into the edge in just the right place, like a kunai or your very own set of claws. Rufus tucked into her cleavage, Sheila slid out the hole in the wall and pulled the window back into place after her, then crept quickly along the edge of the building.

Managing to reenter through her own window, Sheila stepped into the hall, giving an absentminded greeting to some of the other girls, a number of whom had gotten friendlier since yesterday's sparring match. She gave weak smiles and nods to some of them as they passed, then quickly ducked into Yori's room, opening the door just enough to slide in before closing it.

“Aw, geez!” Sheila pressed a hand over her nose and mouth. The smell wasn't bad, really… in fact, it was having a very noticeable effect on her, which was why she was doing her best to mute it. “Wake up, you two!”

Yori and Ron groaned in stereo and stirred, untangling limbs and making odd little sounds at finding various places to be sticky. Then both noticed the distinct lightness of the room and sat bolt upright, staring at Sheila.

“Ron! Window!” she hissed, pointing.

Nodding wildly, Ron snatched up a kunai from Yori's selection of them and dove to the window, prying it open and starting to wriggle out.

“Ron! -Pants-!”

The blonde paused, then scurried back, yanking his gi pants on before scrambling for the window again. Then he zipped back one last time and pecked Yori on the lips before commando diving out the window.

Yori giggled, cheeks coloring as she put both hands to her chest. “Oh dear.”

“It smells like they filmed a porno in here and she blushes at a kiss,” Sheila muttered, rolling her eyes. “Would you throw something on and get your butt to the bath, please?”

“Mm-hmm,” Yori answered dreamily, standing and stretching languorously.

Sheila let her eyes linger for just a moment, before she rolled them and slipped back out the door, heading for the baths herself. ‘God, Kim, you had better be goddamn dynamite in the sack when you finally get back. I could fuck the Middleton Marauders about now.’

---

Sheila avoided her friends through most of the day. There was no single, simple reason. Part of it was that she didn't want to see it if they started acting all sugary sweet to each other and became insufferable like most new couples. Part of it was that she just didn't want to possibly smell the sex on them, as she was already frustrated enough. (Even if masturbation might have helped, there were very few places in the academy you could be sure didn't have a practicing student or two hanging about in the shadows.)

And part of it, she had to admit, was deathly afraid of what they had changing or being destroyed. Three months ago the creature inside her had put a name… or, really, more of an instinctual feeling, a deep emotion that she could only translate as a word… to the sense of respect, security, and caring that she got from Ron and Yori. ‘Pack’. They were her pack, her living unit, her family. Their presence and comfort was keeping her sane while she was separated from her mate.

Now, if she listened to her own instincts, the two other members of her pack were mated. The sex was more just a confirmation, really. All Ron had to do was wake up and realize that he made Yori wetter than a New England springtime and she was his for the taking.

Really, very little would change, she tried to convince herself. They'd just finally stopped beating around the bush, the same way she and Kim had eventually done after Yori got hurt.

But they weren't called irrational fears because they went away easily.

Finally, she showed up for dinner in the hall a bit late and smuggled her bowl out, heading for her room. She could smell Ron and Yori inside, so that wasn't a surprise. And they didn't seem to be having sex, so that was a bonus. Taking a deep breath, Sheila slid the door open.

Ron and Yori both looked up, seeming a bit surprised.

“Heya, Sheila. Missed ya all day, we were starting to worry that you'd gotten freaked out,” Ron commented.

“… Maybe just a little.” Sheila stepped inside and slid the door closed, before sitting down and poking at her dinner. “Stuff like this broke up the Beetles, after all.”

“The country of Japan assumes no responsibility for Yoko Ono,” Yori stated solemnly.

Sheila blinked a few times, then laughed aloud. Yori wasn't often free with the jokes, which usually made it all the more amusing when she just straight-out did one.

“Um, yeah.” Sheila smiled a bit, looking down and eating a few mouthfuls before continuing. “I guess mostly I was worried about things changing.”

Ron and Yori traded glances, and Ron shrugged. “I guess it's possible. We weren't planning on it, though.”

“Yeah, well, I've noticed that planning stuff is usually the best way to assure that it won't happen.” Sheila sighed. “It doesn't help that I miss Kim more every day, and around here I can't exactly run down to the nearest naughty bookstore and buy a battery-powered companion.”

Ron opened his mouth to ask, and Yori shook her head solemnly. Ron closed his mouth.

“So, I dunno.”

“Um, hey. Can I ask something?” Ron said after a moment.

“Well, Ron, a lot of those bookstores carry-”

“Uh, no, no. I was gonna ask, when you meditate, are you serious about it?”

Sheila blinked. “Sometimes, I guess. Usually I'm just trying to get my temper and senses under control and don't do much else.”

“Maybe you should do it to think about this stuff. Sensei made some suggestions about my meditation, and it, uh… well, it really helped.”

Yori looked at Ron and raised her eyebrows questioningly, to which he grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“Maybe you're right.” Sheila thought it over, then nodded. Shoveling down the rest of her dinner, she set the bowl aside and stood. “I'm gonna go give it a try. I'll be back in awhile.”

---

Sheila sat with her legs folded lotus style, the backs of her hands on her knees, her eyes closed. She'd found an unused meditation garden through which a small stream ran, having found months ago that being inside a quiet room and trying to meditate was effectively impossible now. Instead she breathed in deeply, letting the scents of the mountain and the school drift across her consciousness, and tried to figure out what the hell she was doing.

Almost all her meditation since she'd forsaken the use of her Honor Name had focused on grasping for control. On forcing the creature into quiescence, on reining in her temper and her ego, in figuring out how giving others respect fit in with her life. Using it to consider problems in her personal life other than not going feral or not being a bitch hadn't really come up.

So she let her mind wander a little bit, running circles around the issue. But it kept coming back to something she'd been thinking about the meditation itself, worrying it like a cat trying to get its favorite toy out from under the couch.

‘Forcing the creature into quiescence.’

She hesitated, then cleared her mind and focused on that. She was usually trying to force her inner animal into a cage, so that she could ignore it as much as possible. But it was where many of the revelations she'd had were coming from. That Kim wasn't just someone she had confused feelings for, but was actually a playmate… in fact, her mate, the thing that made her whole. And that in the absence of her mate, the thing that made her whole, she needed Ron and Yori… because they weren't just her friends, they were her pack.

Maybe… just maybe… she needed to risk letting it out of its cage a little.

Taking a deep breath, Sheila did her best to center herself before looking inward. It wasn't something new to her, though long disused. Maybe because she'd gotten to dislike some of the things she found when she did. In fact, as she started to delve, she ran into some of those things and almost quit then and there.

‘How important are Ron and Yori to you?’ she asked herself bitterly.

Gritting her teeth because she knew the answer, Sheila took a few deep breaths, calming down a little before going in.

[Screw them! How dare they look at me like that! Look at THEM!]

[Why does it hurt so much when they treat me like that?]

[Please… we've been friends since elementary… why are you doing this?]

[You don't understand! None of you understand!]

[Stop being just a part-time mom! Stay or leave, PICK ONE!]

[She's… not back yet?]

[… Mom…]

[They're still doing it. Still looking at me that way. But I tried so hard! I've done so much!]

[It hurts… it hurts, why does it hurt so much…? Why can't I stand up…?]

[… The hell with this… look at them, I'm just the freak in the bandages, now…]

[I don't care. Let them all die. Let them all burn. Pay me a buck and I'd do it myself.]

[A job? From -you-? … Yeah. Sure. Why not?]

[This is pathetic. Not even worth my time. I wonder if I can get a manicure before he gets back?]

[Destroy the world, blah blah blah, sure sure.]

She actually gasped as she pulled up out of the meditative state. ‘Holy shit, when did I become so shallow? I wasn't even angsting anymore! Emo is one thing, but lord!’

Calming and centering with more difficulty this time, she plunged back in, forcing her way through the parts of her self she'd already touched on. Here it became easier, impressions and memories of Kim Possible starting to filter in. Antagonism, intrigue, exhilaration, even understanding. She hopped from impression to impression, following the path of her feelings for Kim until she found those that had the markings of that strange, indefinable feeling.

She was surprised how early the little traces were there. These were times that she'd thought she was actively trying to kill the girl, but they were still marked by it. Had she loved Kim so early? Or was it that the feeling was some formless connection, one that would have stayed formless and unknowable until they turned it into love?

‘Focus. You can't get distracted by what-ifs, you're looking for what's there, not what might've been.’

Sheila continued cruising along her memories of Kim, deciding to bypass the one where she'd identified the redhead as a playmate. No, she was pretty sure now where she'd find what she needed. And there it was, in the memory of the fight against Global Justice's elite force of assholes.

‘Mate.’ The strongest and most clearly defined instinct-word she'd encountered.

She paused and gathered herself. Cruising memories and picking them apart for clues was more a visualization of the mental discipline and searching of her feelings she was trying to exercise, of course, but it was still unnerving, touching so close to one of the times she'd lost herself. Still, she took the impression of ‘mate’, and followed the line of impressions further.

She gathered up the feelings that first memorizing Kim's scent, and later the others, had given her. She also took the instinct-word ‘pack’, turning them over, trying to figure them out.

If Sheila were forced to put a visual representation to what happened, she would have compared it to fiddling with a mystical puzzle box, suddenly solving it almost by accident, and summoning a highly unpredictable creature that might just decide to pull her to bits for fun. The creature was suddenly there, pulled up in her mind and pressing at the insides of her skull. She bent forward over her lap, trembling with the effort of both holding it back and not just slamming it back in its cage.

This wasn't some thinking entity she could communicate with, it was a part of herself. She had to figure out how to get the information she needed from it without letting it be in control. It was her deep instincts, her animal self, and she needed to figure out how getting knowledge from that part of herself worked.

Though maybe she should have done that before she brought it to the surface.

Breathing a bit shallowly, she centered enough to hold onto her focus, then tried something. The creature seemed to do okay with conveying very basic concepts that her conscious mind did its best to translate. Rather than trying to ‘question’ it about Ron and Yori, she effectively cleared her mind, then tried to put her concept of them out there… essentially, feed it what her mind understood as the most basic part of thinking about them.

|Pack.|

Sheila let out a shallow breath. Okay. Maybe this could work. The instinct resonated through her. The concept-thinking might take some getting used to, but this might actually be something she could practice.

She tried again, putting her concept of Kim ‘on the table’, as it were.

|Mate.|

The instinct was stronger, clearer. But then, it had been there longer.

Okay. She was doing good. Time to try something new. She tried putting both the concept of Yori and Ron, as well as Kim, out at the same time.

|Pack.|

There, the resonance was stronger that time. That made sense… it would be rather odd for Kim to be her mate and -not- considered part of her pack, she supposed. After a moment's consideration, she tried adding herself to the mix.

|PACK.|

The instinct-word was so strong it almost broke her concentration. Sheila took a few quick, deep breaths, then let them slow. Okay. The creature considered them all a pack, and was probably a little annoyed they weren't all together. She could relate. (Which, again, made sense.)

She had one more trick she wanted to try to add to the repertoire. This time, she put the thoughts of all four out, but tried to strengthen the impression of Kim, to put it ‘first’.

|Alpha.|

Sheila felt bemusement pass through her conscious mind. She'd always known she had a tiny bit of a submissive streak, the thing with Sujigaki's switch had proven that. And she had been urging Kim to take the lead, naturally falling into the sidekick role to her as she had for Drakken. Maybe she really was more comfortable in the passenger seat. For confirmation, she dropped Kim back a little and strengthened her self-impression.

|Alpha Bitch.|

‘Sweet talker,’ Sheila thought wryly. Rearranging again, she put Yori in the lead.

|Beta.|

‘Uh-oh. Ron's the girl.’

Over the next half hour, she tried various shell games, putting out impressions of Yori and Ron and various events. It was a little bit of trial and error, learning how her inner animal would respond. Sometimes it spit out a string of instincts so long, varied, and unknown that trying to put it into words was like babbling, though often her emotional reaction to this was still informative. It was also mentally exhausting, and she felt completely drained as she began trying to calm the beast and get it to settle back down inside her.

Before she put it away completely, however, she considered, wondering if she really wanted to know what its response would be. But finally, she cleared off the other “pieces”, and just left the concept of herself out for it to identify. It responded, almost wearily, then sank back into darkness.

She smiled.

---

Ron and Yori looked up anxiously as the door of the room slid open.

“Hey, Sheila. You okay?”

“Shego.”

The duo blinked as the grinning, green-skinned woman stepped inside and sat down in her usual spot.

“My name's Shego. Try and remember it, okay?”

“Well if you're just gonna change it again in another six months, I don't know if we should bother,” Ron teased, starting to smile himself.

“Your meditations went well, then?” Yori asked.

“I guess. God I'm exhausted.” Shego flopped out on her bed, pulling the pillow up under her, then looking at her friends from it. “But I found out a lot about why my instincts were making me so nervous. I mean, part of it's good old ‘my friends are sleeping together’, but there's more.”

“Go on,” Yori pressed gently.

“Part of it is that it's not only an uncertain outcome, but that it makes me feel insecure in my position. You… okay, let me back up.” Shego sat up, rubbing her head a bit. “I've had two revelations in the past six months that I haven't talked with anyone about. I need to get ‘uncertainty breeds uncertainty’ made into a motivational poster or something.”

“Oooo, that'd be a good one,” Ron agreed, smiling again and nodding. “Like with a kitten and a puppy staring at each other or something.”

Yori gave him an extremely gooey look, and Shego rolled her eyes so hard it hurt a little.

“Aaaanyway. The first is that I don't really consider Kim my girlfriend. She's my mate. It's a much deeper connection than… I don't really know how to explain it, it's just a lot deeper and stronger than I think most people ever really go.”

“You did mention this to us, before, in the cabin,” Yori pointed out.

“Yeah, but not what that really meant. The other is that you two are my pack. When you rallied around me while I was falling apart, you cemented your friendship to me in the same way my love for Kim was cemented. It goes just as deep as that does. It's like family now, the move-Heaven-and-Earth-to-get-them-back kind of family.”

Ron ducked his head, perhaps thinking of the distance between himself and his own parents. He wondered if they even really missed him that much. Yori closed her eyes, thinking of the bond that had never had a chance to grow between herself and her parents.

“But it's also a deeper instinct that makes me worried. The inner animal sees you two as the Betas of the pack, while Kim and I are the Alphas. Betas usually aren't allowed to mate, in a lot of animal groups.”

Yori laughed nervously. “I will try not to be insulted.”

“Sorry. Iiiii can't really control this thing,” Shego answered, a bit sheepishly. “But that's a kind of weak thought anyway. To be honest, it's a sort of selfish thing that's driving a lot of it… basically, my need to feel reassured of my current standing with my pack.”

“Howso?”

“Have you ever thought about the way we sleep?”

Ron blushed a bit, and Yori did as well, but she seemed more composed.

“Sometimes. But not often. It seemed to… work for us, so I did not question it overmuch.”

“Basically, it's the way I reassure myself of the pack's function. I sleep with my arms around you, Yori, because I instinctively see you as the youngest and most vulnerable member of the pack. I've known you the least amount of time, and my connection to you was made when you got hurt. I want to protect you directly, not only because I feel like you need it, but because it makes me feel more secure in my own power.”

Yori blinked, but after a moment nodded.

“Ron sleeps on the other side of me and puts his arm over me and on you for a couple of r