To all:

   Below is a tidied-up version of the Skuld shortfic I sent to the list
about a week ago. Being partially out of my mind I intend to send this
sucker to r.a.a.c. so I can claim with pride I'm a fanfic writer (and also
hopefully improve the chance of another writer's doing more with the
"Kenji vs. Sentaro" theme, which I doubt I'll ever get the chance to do).
So any C&C you might be able to give would be appreciated. 
   The character of Kenji is the creation and property of Ed Sharpe
(e-mail: esharpe@hsc.usc.edu), used with permission. By the way, Mr.
Sharpe, thank you for the C&C.
   The other characters, of course, are the creation of Kosuke Fujishima.
I'm afraid I don't have permission to use them, but I seriously doubt Mr.
Fujishima will mind, much less bother to do anything about it (I doubt
it'd be worth his while). Besides, I'd have no idea how to begin getting
permission. My knowledge of written Japanese is minimal.
   To get it for Kenji, however, was quite feasible (direct Kenji queries 
to Mr Sharpe's e-mail address). Nobody else on this list has any excuse
not to, so please don't use Kenji without permission.

Paul Corrigan
budgie@insomnia3.dorms.utoledo.edu
---
   Anyone who had looked into Skuld's room that night would have seen a
very unusual sight.
   The young goddess knelt on the floor, deep in concentration. This was
not so unusual in itself; often she could be seen knelt over a blueprint
for her latest mecha, musing long into the night over the absolute best
way to increase its efficiency.
   Tonight, however, was not for mechs. There were, instead of a
blueprint, two ordinary Polaroid photographs, one on her right, one on her
left.
   The righthand Polaroid was a picture of two young men, taken inside
the temple. One was the mortal Keiichi Morisato. Keiichi was looking up
proudly at the real focus of the picture, the younger (though much, much
taller) young man beside him. The young man--the boy really, though
noticeably older than Skuld--looked something like Keiichi, except for his
unusually light hair and, of course, his much greater height; he wore a
shirt reading in Roman characters "Princeton Naked Rugby Club." He for his
part was looking straight at the camera with a broad smile (at the
photographer, actually, as Skuld knew, for she'd taken the photo herself).
His left hand was resting on a mecha that looked something like one of
Skuld's mechas, but had flourishes that had clearly come from another
hand. The young man appeared quite proud of his variation on Skuld's
design.
   The lefthand Polaroid was of a boy, about Skuld's age this time, of 
medium height, with messy hair and wearing a Batman t-shirt. This picture
had been taken outside; the boy was on a bicycle, doing a particularly
elaborate trick jump. All the boy's attention should have been on the
bike; but he could not help but look towards the camera with a smile
for the moment the picture was taken as he rode through the air.
   Skuld thought she might know why, for she'd taken the photo herself. He
was lucky he hadn't hurt himself.
   For a long while Skuld studied each picture in turn, looking at one for
a few moments, then the other, than back to the first, as if trying to
decide between the two pictures.
   Back, forth. Back, forth. Left, right. Left, right.
   Time passed. The time at each photo steadily decreased, and Skuld
became increasingly agitated, as if by an itch she could not scratch. This
added to the singularity of the sight. It was hard to evoke such
frustration in Skuld, for there were few problems to which her literally
superhuman intelligence could not obtain a solution.
   Naturally, however, such problems did exist. The riddle of the source
of her sister's affection for Keiichi Morisato was one. Laid out before
her was another. 
   Back and forth went Skuld's gaze, turning towards each in turn of the
two possible solutions of the problem. The young goddess, as she turned to
each solution, spoke its name, first as a soft whisper, but as her
frustration at what could only be entrapment in an endless loop of
indecision increased, at higher and higher volume, becoming at last 
nothing short of a yell.
   Faster and faster, louder and louder.
   Right. "Kenji."
   Left. "Sentaro."
   Right. "Kenji."
   Left. "Sentaro."
   Right. "Kenji."
   Left. "Sentaro."
   Right, left, right, left, right left right left...
   "Kenji. Sentaro. Kenji, Sentaro. Kenji, Sentaro, Kenji Sentaro..."

   At last the bomb exploded.

   "WAAAAH! I CANNOT BEAR TO PART WITH EITHER! WHICHEVER SHALL I CHOOSE?"

   Followed by general weeping and gnashing of teeth, interrupted at last
by the opening of Skuld's door and the entrance of a very tired (though
understanding) Belldandy, a very tired (and very irritated) Urd and
a very tired (but too tired to be irritated) Keiichi.
   "I knew it!...Look, Skuld, both of your friends are very nice, I know
you like them both very much, and I know you don't want to hurt either of
them, but you can't have them both, and sitting up all night crying about
it isn't going to change that..."
   "Hey, brat, you mind giving the wailing and screaming a freaking
_rest_? Some of us are trying to _sleep_!"
   "Hey, Skuld, you been watching too much _Ranma 1/2_ again?"

End...