Yuko let her wheelchair coast along the sidewalk, opening up her glass screen data pad to flick through the schedule she'd been given. With the start of a new school year, there would be new faces among the students. The last three years or so she hadn't even set up any classes to teach, the students had been so droll. Sure, they were "criminals", but they lacked that fire that Yuko loved to see in her students. Any bloke could kill a man, but it took a certain spirit to impress Yuko. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, going over a few of the files the headmaster had sent her. She recalled being told that it was mandatory for the teachers to teach a class. Face after face scrolled by on the screen as she glanced over details. She stopped on one randomly to give it a better look.

"Rich kid, huh?" she muttered to herself, reading through what information was available to her on the kid, "Vandalism . . . resisting arrest . . . what do you mean won't last long? Hell, might as well give him a shot."

She clicked a couple of buttons and a screen popped up, showing her the exact location of the student, via GPS. The track, was it? Well, at least it wasn't very far.

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Yuko rolled up on the small group of kids that were gathered, watching a race of sorts. She closed her data pad and put it into her bag, deciding to watch the two students run. It was hardly a competition at all, really. The kid in front was leagues faster than the other. And the one in front was who she was looking for. A coy grin curled up on her face as she watched the kid sprint. He didn't slow down when he neared the finish line; he ran faster. That was a good sign to Yuko.

And then she watched the exchange of credits between the racers, and chuckled as Shelby challenged the small crowd. She nodded to herself and projected her voice at him, taking her bag off the back of her wheelchair and setting it down, "Alright, bucko, I'll take you on!"

The group of students hadn't noticed her before and turned to look at her. The few that recognised her quickly forced the others to back away, effectively parting the sparse crowd. She ignored the few credits that were being exchanged between the spectators. Gambling was, after all, highly frowned upon. Now, betting and competing? That was fine. She grinned and rolled through the crowd to confront the confident racer.

"Although, I have a different kind of bet in mind for us," she let her wheelchair coast to a halt a couple feet away from the kid, a wicked look creeping up on her face, "You win, I'll give you 3,000 cash. If I win? You'll have to attend my class. Seems like a fair deal to me, don't you think?"

There was a bit of laughter starting in the crowd behind her, but it quickly died down to a concerned muttering. If nothing else, she hadn't had much fun for a while. She was looking forward to this.

Yuko was pleased at the murmurs she heard behind her; she was livid at the disrespect being thrown in front of her. Her face grew malicious, her teeth baring at Shelby in the most evil of smiles. Then, she sighed and nodded. What did she expect? She had read his file. The only option now was to bite the bullet and leave him in the dust. She returned his cocky grin and rolled over to the starting line. Was this really worth the hassle? She'd have to ask herself that question later.

She pointed at one of the kids in the front of the crowd, "Come over here and count to three."

"As soon as the sound leaves his mouth for three, we go," she could feel her competitive spirit rising up inside of her. She had originally planned on giving him a headstart to make him feel confident in his speed, but now? Now she was going to dust him. She tilted her head to pop the vertebrae in her neck, and then grabbed on to the wheels of her chair. The wheelchair was simple, but top of the line. She'd had it made specifically so she could put it through hell and not have it break on her. She wasn't sure what exactly had been used to make it, but the wheels never ground and had very little friction. The frame had no dents or scratches. It was worth every bit she'd put into it.

She leaned forward as the student she had pointed at walked forward and began to count. She rocked her wheelchair back and forth a bit, making sure it was still stable.

"ONE!"

She gripped onto the wheels tightly, a couple knuckles popping as her muscles rippled along her arms and she built up the energy, like a runner would with their legs. She was almost crackling with energy.

"TWO!"

Her eyes focused only on the track in front of her, and she took in a deep breath. The first time she'd gone all out like this, the wind had been knocked out of her. That wouldn't do here.

"TH-"

As soon as she heard it, she took off like a rocket launched horizontally. Or rather, a bullet. The wind whipped her in the face as if it was angry that she could go so fast; she reveled in its surprise. A trail of dust was literally left in her wake as the wheels gained more traction than they probably should have; she was at the turn before she even knew it. She gripped the wheels and twisted herself before thrusting herself again into the turn. The first few times she had tried going as fast as she could, the turns always gave her problems. But with this wide turn, it was easy.

The wheelchair slid as she put a little bit of force every now and again, easing it to go where she wanted. To the spectators, it looked as if she were sliding like she was on a pair of skis in the snow. She slowed down considerably before hitting the next straight run. And then, she would launch again.

Yuko grit her teeth as she heard the footsteps quickly catching up to her. He was fast. With a huff, she gripped her wheels tightly and launched forward again away from the curve. She knew he'd probably catch up, maybe even overtake her, if she kept up like this. So, she went for a risk. Maybe it wasn't very smart of her to take risks when she had a good chance of winning, but that was fine. She clenched her jaw and slammed her hands into the wheels of her chair again, propelling herself forward even faster. She hadn't done this before, because turning was already difficult enough.

Her eyes locked on to the railing that went around the edge of the track. She remembered learning how to skateboard when she was younger. Her town hadn't had much to practice on, but she always loved sliding down the railing that led to the nearby market. Sure, it was going to look ridiculous. It was fine that she might just tip over and crash. She relished the challenge; she yearned for the gamble. As she increased her speed exponentially, she started listing to the right edge of the track, ever closer to the railing she went.

This time, she wouldn't slow down. Just like he had done earlier, she would go faster towards the finish line, not slower. So, when she neared the curve, she didn't slow down. Rather, she gave herself one final push on her wheels, then she grabbed the handles of her wheelchair and hefted herself upwards. And like a plane off an airstrip, she lifted off the ground. Time seemed to slow down as she went airborn. She had a good feeling about this, though.

Yuko praised her own luck. Admittedly, she shouldn't have done this. The chance was just as likely to have her halt instantly, or go flipping over the rail. The wheelchair soared through the air and arced downward. She gave one final effort to tilt the chair just perfectly enough. The outer ring of the right wheel overlapped just enough on the rail to keep the chair on it. She felt herself tilt as the left wheel connected to the track. If not for the sheer velocity and inertia, she would have fallen over and crashed. As it was, however, she flew along the rail in an arc around the curve. She powered her hands against the wheels and a cackle rose from her throat, caught by the wind as she soared around towards the final stretch of track.

And then the part she hadn't considered. The railing ended when it turned towards the straight away. Her mouth scrunched up and she prepared herself. She put a deathgrip on one of the armrests and pulled with a strong tug. She grit her teeth as the wheel left the rail just in time to avoid the knob on the end. The wheelchair's inertia was taking her too far to the left. She blew the air out of her nose and let go of her armrest, cursing to herself as the wheel collided with the ground and the whole chair bounced a bit. It slowed her down, but not nearly as much as the last turn had. Her maniacal grin returned and she launched herself towards the finish line in one final bout of speed. She pumped on the wheels three times before she got to the line. She slammed her hands into the wheels to come to a screeching halt.

The momentum caused the wheelchair to spin a couple times, but she was grinning from ear to ear, "That was fun!"

Yuko was visibly panting. She stretched her arms out in front of her and shakily clenched her hands into fists, making sure all of them were still working. Adrenaline was starting to wear off. Breathing in a couple times, she examined the palms and smiled tightly, nodding to herself. Some of the skin had torn away from the stress she had put on them. Reckless. And then she laughed. Not a deep laugh, as she was out of breath, but rather a light hearted chuckle between uncertain breaths. She gingerly spun her wheelchair around to face Shelby directly, making sure the now mostly reddened skin didn't make contact with the rather hot wheels.

"Quite expectedly," Yuko quipped a bit, letting herself rock back and forth a little, "It's the unexpected that catches you off guard."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several exchanges of cash between students. The older ones had taken advantage of the newer students' lack of knowing who she was. She held up a finger at Shelby, telling him to stay there for a moment. Then, she rolled off to the group and snarled at them, "Give those kids their money back. You have no right taking what they've earned simply because they didn't know."

A little confused, and a little more upset, the students re-exchanged cash and Yuko turned back to Shelby, "Tell you about my class? Well, let's just say it's for practical life skills. 'Life Class' I'll call it. Today was your first lesson. Never underestimate an opponent for any reason. Always fight as if they are as good as you or better. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some paperwork to fill out; this is actually the first time I've taught a real class in about three years. And you're my first real student in about five. I believe I need at least four students to finish the paperwork and call it official. Until then, I'll let you know whenever our first class will be and where. Don't die."

With that confusing ramble, she rolled through the crowd again and pick up her bag, wincing as the fabric grated against her wounds. This was going to be a fun school year.