Author's note: I do not currently own Azumanga Daioh or any characters contained therein. I also do not own the Smith and Wesson model 29 or the Colt new Army and Navy revolvers or the Makarov PM(they belong to S&W, Colt, and Makarov respectively) Vasily,(who is the intellectual property of SFTiki), any variant of the AK assault rifle, the Russian language, Tokyo Tower, Christmas, or candy.

"Nyamo?" Yukari asked calmly, her gun in one hand, seemingly unfazed by her rather noticeable surroundings.

"Wh-wh-what?" Nyamo chattered, grasping closely to the metal, the thin air biting at her exposed skin.

"Do you think that the bunny outfits were a bit much?" she said, gesturing with her .44 magnum, one finger on the trigger. She accidentally fired it, and a '72 Pinto could be heard exploding. "Oops."

"N-n-n-no, but why does mine have to be a Playboy bunny? It's cold! And you set me on fire twice already because I said that I was cold, and-NO! put that away!"

Yukari huffed, and slipped the lighter back down the throat of the pink, full-body bunny suit. "Just trying to help."

"Anyway," nyamo continued, her teeth so sore that they had gone full circle into bliss, "it's kind of scary up here on top of Tokyo tower. Can we go down?"

"Nyamy love-cheeks, I've got something important to tell you." Yukari continued, swinging out the cylinder of her S&W Model 29 for reloading.

"Can-can we go down? It's cold up here. And dangerous."

"The world, Nyamy lovey chunks, is round. If you keep going in one direction, you'll end up stampeding through whatever bogs and swamps of semen and alcohol and blood you've gotten your pretty little feet stuck into."

"Yeah, sure, can we go down now?"

"You're supposed to ask me what the point of all that was."

"What's the point of all this?" Nyamo borderline whispered through the fog of fear that her head had sunk into, as cold and sharp an effect on her psyche as plunging it into a bucket of ice and razors, so cold and sharp that every second it thrust her into a whole new world of insanely defined feeling as deep and heartfelt as the last, all thanks to every second spend with Yukari. While it may not have been enjoyable, it most certainly was living, something which she didn't, couldn't, do on her own. "Go on, tell me." She said, a little bit gentler.

"The point, my favorite piece of ass," Yukari said, "is that a series of incredibly poor judgments and bad decisions brought me here, and only worse judgments and terrible decisions will get me out."

"That sounds… Like a bad idea."

"Exactly, but it's served me well so far." Yukari behind the small of her back for her belly gun, a Colt New Army and Navy in .32-20 caliber. "Here, take this. You might need it." She threw it to Nyamo with one hand, then snapped the cylinder on her own .44 shut. "Let's blow this joint."

Suddenly, as though propelled by a rocket, a wooden swordfish, its blue paint fading and chipped, flew at impossible speeds up to the tower and wrapped itself around a metal bar as though it had a mind of its own.

Gaping as she was, Nyamo couldn't see the rope made of zombie guts that let from the swordfish to the ground, but Yukari did. "NO!" she shouted. "I thought I lost you in Paris!"

With its front end attached to the rope, a rocket-propelled motorcycle-well, rocketed up the side of the tower, a six and a half foot tall (that's 2 meters for those, well everywhere else) blonde man in a Russian military uniform complete with peaked cap astride it. The motorcycle, upon closer inspection, was custom built out of the skeleton of a far larger than usual bear.

Only the engine was still metal, and it was red, pumping like a heart. The rest was charred bone, complete with a red eyed bear skull at the front, and an AKS-74U holstered at the front, right under the handlebars.

"Why must you runs from me so, Tovarisch Yukari? We are making good team!" he pleaded in a surprisingly youthful voice, gracefully disembarking from his mount and holding his ground by jamming a huge combat knife into the metal with much less force than should have been needed.

"I told you, I'm done killing things for money. I'm not cut out for that life, I'm too real and edgy for 'jobs' like other people." Yukari said, raising her .44 magnum as a light but firm warning to stay back.

"What-What's going on? Who are you? Yukari? It's weird up here. This is dangerous. Could we…" Nyamo quickly stopped when Yukari cocked her revolver.

"is not right, you should be interrupting your friend, Tovarisch Yukari." He turned to Nyamo. "Hello, I am being Vasily. Yukari and Is used to work together, for deactivate unruly robots. We run, with blades, kill things, is good."

"Not that good." Yukari interrupted. "They wouldn't let me drop acid on the job. And it's a personal philosophy of mine to never keep a job where they won't let me drop acid once in a while."

"…is strange philosophy, but I am not complaining. Please, tovarcisch, let me explain something-"

Yukari pulled the gun up, hanging from the tower only by one hand and one foot now, her sights now perfectly lined up with Vasily's head.

Vasily's reflexes, trained by the years of what his Grandfather had called "Traffic Training", quick-drew the Makarov PM that he kept tucked in his belt. "Yukari, you are putting guns down, yes?"

"No."

Safeties were flicked off, both physical and mental. There was no way that everyone was getting out of this alive.

But then, Nyamo had an idea. An idea born of too long spent with her best friend, yes, an idea born of the last few weeks spent in motels between carjackings and arson and assault. But probably the worst (or was it best?) under the circumstances.

She threw her Colt between them, then took a breath, closed her eyes, and jumped.

Even Yukari stared agape as her closest friend plummeted to the Tokyo pavement, almost faster than the eye could see.

As she fell, Nyamo found herself thinking of the last two things that she assumed that she would be thinking of, under the circumstances.

Firstly, something that she had heard on a detective radio play once. "When you jump from a building, you travel one second for every story the building is high." She didn't exactly think that was true-wouldn't she slow down or speed up while falling, depending on the distance? And how high is one individual story, anyway? She should have done more research on that. But it wasn't like she had anticipated that she might one day be falling from Tokyo Tower. Huh.

Secondly, Yukari's ass. Yeah. 'but', she thought, 'as far as last thoughts go, this one is particularly well curved. I mean not bad. Shit.'

Beep.

"Muh…uh."

Beep.

Nyamo opened her eyes, and saw white. Then red. Then green.

Beep.

White.

Beep.

Red.

Beep.

Green.

Beep.

"Tovarisch Yukari, I am thinking is rude to wave Christmas candy wrapper over unconscious person's eyes. Is confusing."

Beep.

"if it wasn't okay to do, it wouldn't be so fun!"

Bee-CRASH.

One of the nurses rushed into the room, to find Vasily's fist stuck clear through the mechanical device that would not stop its infernal noise. "I am apologizing. Is rude to smash noisy thing." then, his eyes narrowed. "But is ruder to put noisy thing in room with sick girl. Now go. Get real doctor."

"Sir, we put that in there because we need it to monitor-"

"Is noisy! Is distracting! I am smash, and not sorry!"

"…I'm going to call security now."

"Fine. You go. Go now. Shoo." he closed the door behind her.

"Vas, can you go deal with the security? I need to talk to my favorite piece of ass alone." Yukari said, then ruffled up the candy wrappers into a ball and ate them.

He nodded, then stepped outside with a folding chair in hand, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Nyamy-cheeks?" Yukari said, looking down at her dear friend with what for her was fairly close to care.

Nyamo, her mouth full of oxygen mask, nodded.

"It's pretty lucky that you fell on that Kimura guy from Spanish class. The nurses say that his brain will never be the same, though. Eh, what does it matter. You see, girl, I've just been woken up from something, and I've gotten the job offer that I've always wanted. You see, there's this organization in Britain, where they fight vampires. I've got to get me some of that. They've even got their own vampire, it's great! Vas was offered a job, and he was kind enough to invite me along, so-" Yukari noticed Nyamo's fingers moving across the bed, slowly, slowly. "Do-do you want some paper and a pen?"

Faintly, Nyamo nodded.

Yukari pulled a few pages out of the phonebook in her suitcase, and a makeshift pencil sharpened with a Shuriken. "This will work, I guess."

Nyamo scribbled furiously, but she could only create two words. Surprisingly, in English.

Want come

Yukari shook her head. "Sorry, kid, you wouldn't survive. It's for your own-" she paused at saying this, as someone does before saying an oft-hated old phrase.

Nyamo scribbled three more words.

"Look," Yukari protested, "I…" then she took the wrinkled yellow pages.

Without you nothing

She stared, the expression on her face one of an indescribable tender surprise. "I…Alright." She grinned, and it was the same grin that Nyamo remembered from as far back as she could remember, that she remembered hating as she saw it from a tree in her backyard, that she remembered hating as she saw watching from her backseat, and that she remembered loving when she saw in the back of her closet.

""I think that you could drive a car, or something. You can do that, right?" Yukari said.

Feeling a little Yukari in her, Nyamo smiled, scribbling some more.

"How hard could it be?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you, thank you for reading up to this point, all of you who have read and reviewed!

This will be the last chapter, probably. I may return to this story in the future, but I'm not making any promises.

I originally meant for this to go for much longer, but I ran out of narrative steam. A shame, as I felt that I was finally beginning to "Get" this version of Yukari towards the end, but there will always be more to write. That's the best thing about being a writer, there's always more to write, whether you see it or not.

I also needed to end this because I have three or four or five ideas for fan fictions in the back of my head jostling for attention, and it was simply unfair to keep the poor dears locked away for so long.

So I'll be introducing some new stories soon, but probably not any new Azumanga Daioh ones for a while.

I would like to thank and pimp out SFTiki here, for his help in motivating me to write this, and for his loan of his rather magnetic OC, Vasily. Check his profile in the coming months, he has a few more stories to write about that guy…

I also need to mention Hwikek, who has reviewed every one of these chapters, always with something constructive to say. Thanks, man.

Again, thank you all for your involvement in making this the most successful story that I've written on the internet to date. I raise a drink to those that I have mentioned and those that I haven't: Happy reading and writing, everyone!