Dreams are perhaps the single most bizarre product of the human mind. A mixture of memory, desire, innermost fear, emotional state, and pure imagination, dreams can represent many things, from the wildest fantasies to the deepest, darkest personal hell. Then there are those dreams which are neither memory nor fantasy, neither portent nor premonition, and yet somehow succeed in being all these things wrapped up into one confusing, symbolic package. A face, blurred, indistinct. Eyes full of annoyance, yet displaying kindness when none were watching. Narrow, sharp features, a noble bearing. A face, blurred, indistinct. Eyes hard with the eternal turmoil of a warrior. Skin coarse, weathered, road-worn. Expression stoic, reserved. A face, blurred, indistinct. Kind, smiling eyes and soft, silvery hair. A face, blurred, indistinct. Cold, judgemental eyes shimmering like pale moonlight. A face, blurred, indistinct. Hard, piercing eyes like cold jade, full of contempt. Faces blurred into moonlight. Eyes blurred into spotlights. The stoic iron girders of Tokyo Tower blurred, fading into the darkness of night as it gave way to the dim light of morning. Eyes opened, dispatching the dream to cobweb-laden corners of a young girl's mind. Another day began for Kasugano Sakura. ___ ___ <__< BLOSSOMS IN THE SPRING <__< A crossover Improfanfic started (and herein continued) by The Eternal Lost Lurker Street Fighter and all related trademarks belong to Capcom. Cardcaptor Sakura and all related trademarks belong to CLAMP, Kodansha. Used without permission. ___ <__< Chapter Seven: Sakura's Strongest Sensei ___ <__< "Ohayou, Sakura-chan!" Tomoyo called cheerfully as her best friend and object of obsession raced up the sidewalk in front of their school. Sakura skidded to a halt, hands on her knees and puffing slightly as her sneakers smoked a bit. "Ohayou, Yuriko-chan," Sakura replied, mindful of the other students within earshot. Straightening and smoothing her skirt, she fell in step beside her friend and shuffled through the gate. "Is something wrong, Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo asked. "You seem distracted this morning." Sakura shrugged. "Just had some weird dreams last night. My head's a little fuzzy." The dark-haired girl frowned. "Dreams..." The street fighter blinked at her friend. "What's wrong?" she asked. Tomoyo shook her head. "Nothing, nothing. So, remember anything from your dreams?" "Not really. They're sort of a blur. Mostly I remember eyes." Sakura shivered. "Well, whatever it was, you should talk to Kero-chan about it later. It might be a key to remembering your past." "You think so?" Tomoyo nodded. "Back in those days, you had a lot of dreams that were..." She frowned thoughtfully. "Let's just say that your dreams had a way of being important." "Sou...sou ka," Sakura replied. "So anyway..." Tomoyo put on her most cheerful smile. "It's a half-day today. What are you doing after school?" Sakura grinned. "I'm headed to a gym to meet with a sensei who's been helping me refine my style." "Oooh, sounds like fun! Can I come watch?" "Well...sure, I guess!" "Wai! Ara...I'll need to make sure to pick up a fresh battery pack for my camera, and check the tape..." As Tomoyo droned on about filming Sakura at her practice, the other girl sweatdropped and hoped this wouldn't be *too* embarassing... ~@~ Deep within Setagaya-ku, amid the bustle of the busy shopping district and the many upper-middle-class professional buildings, an unassuming, slightly run-down building stands amid rows of similarly re-re-rewashed concrete structures. No amount of paint or cleaning can completely remove the grime that comes from age, neglect, and pollution; as a result, this particular neighborhood feels more gritty and seedy than it actually is. Of course, for this particular building, the grimy texture is quite fitting, as this is the Dodon Gym, an old boxing establishment long since abandoned by its original owners and claimed as a training dojo by neighborhood street fighters. The Dodon Gym tends to rotate sensei frequently, as one instructor will invariably move on to respond to challenges, compete in the big tournament, or simply disappear without a trace, never to be heard from again. Once a master leaves, another eventually steps in to fill their place, and the business of Dodon Gym carries on. The current sensei was a hard, sturdy man, a man weathered and seasoned by many fierce battles. He had learned from the best, he had fought the best, and he now taught some of the best newcomers to the art. His was a style like no other, a style passed down through the ages through his noble and honorable family, a style which struck fear into the hearts of those who opposed him and awe into the hearts of those who strove to emulate him. He was a mighty, muscular man's man, bearing the weight of his family's honor like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. Broad, manly shoulders, which carried thick, muscular manly arms. Arms which were too thick and manly for his father's old gi, an heirloom treasured through the ages, so it was a shame they'd had to be sacrificed. It was also a shame he hadn't known not to wash a red gi with bleach, but that was a trivial matter. Besides, when you got right down to it, pink was a very manly color. "YOU!" he cried, shaking a manly fist at a student. "Your form is sloppy! Your punches are weak! Your kicks wouldn't score a field goal in American football! You lack discipline! You lack spirit!" The student bowed. "Gomen nasai, sensei." "Do not fear, my son!" the sensei said, striding across the gym, manly arms pumping furiously. "For with me as your guide, you can see the path now, for you see not with your eyes, but with your mind! This is the truth, young warrior, and the truth is the way to the honor and strength of the Saikyo-ryuu!" He pumped a manly fist, tears streaming down his cheeks as his manly soul was moved by his own courageous and spiritual words. "One day, you will compete in tournaments, and you will defeat all who oppose you, and uphold the family honor, and win the respect of your father! You will be the pride of your family, the pride of Saikyo-ryuu! OYAJIIIIIIIII!" "...uhh, that's nice, Hibiki-sensei. Uhhh...maybe you could show me how to do that kick again?" "I would be MOST happy to, student!" Another day, another student inspired to excel. Hibiki Dan's heart soared with pride. ~@~ "So tell me about this sensei of yours," Tomoyo said. She was perched perkily on the edge of Sakura's bed, wearing a pair of tight-fitting designer jeans, a light blue tube top, and a denim vest. Her camera bag sat next to her, with Cerberus making a comfortable seat for himself in the tape caddy. Sakura adjusted her headband and padded gloves. "Well, he's really strong and he knows a lot of stuff, and he's been teaching me Shotokan and a little of his family's style. He acts a little silly sometimes..." Here, she made a face which Kero found quite interesting. "...but he's a good fighter, and I'm sure he only acts that way to lighten the mood around his students." The dark-haired girl giggled. "Sounds like a neat guy. Well, shall we go then?" "Un!" ~@~ The two girls stepped through the door into the filthy, dimly lit gym and were greeted by the sounds of shouting and bodies whipping through the air. Tomoyo looked around with wide eyes at the grimy walls, flickering lights, battered training equipment, threadbare mats, and the ring in the center of the gym which had been partially disassembled; the posts and ropes still stood around a canvas floor mat, but the ring itself was at floor level, and the ropes seemed in danger of snapping at any given second. In one corner of the gym, a group of students were performing a rudimentary kata, shouting in unison as an advanced student drilled them. In another corner, a punching bag suspended from the ceiling bobbed and weaved frantically as it was the recipient of one rising uppercut after another, with six students taking turns practicing the trademark Shotokan technique. Elsewhere, four students were engaged in back-and-forth sparring, changing partners every few minutes. A fourth group seemed to be working on more advanced techniques. Amidst all the activity in the gym, a pink blur zoomed back and forth, rolling across the floor, springing up, barking some kind of criticism, and rolling to the next group of students. As Sakura and Tomoyo watched, the pink ball of muscle rolled up in front of them, springing to a kneeling position and shaking a forearm. "RONSOU! Welcome to Dodon--oh, Sakura-chan, it's you!" Sakura bowed. "Good afternoon, Dan-sensei." "Haven't seen you around in a while. Who might your cute friend be?" The dark-haired girl blushed and giggled. "Tokumei Yuriko. It's a pleasure to meet you." "OOSHA! Any friend of Sakura-chan is a friend of mine! So, did you come to receive training in Saikyo-ryuu?" "Oh, no, no!" Tomoyo waved her hands in front of her. "I'm not the physical type. I just came to watch Sakura-chan practice." She held up her minicam and smiled. "And shoot some good footage, of course." "Ah, for a...school project, I assume?" Dan asked. "Or simply interest in the study of street fighting?" "I'm interested in whatever Sakura-chan does," Tomoyo replied. The mighty Hibiki Dan sweatdropped. Sakura did likewise. "So...Dan-sensei, when can we get started for the day?" "As soon as you're ready, Sakura-chan! The rest of the students are almost done for the day." Dan headed toward the ring, Sakura hot on his heels. "Oi, Sakura-chan!" one of the various young men in the dojo called. "Saw your fight against that Jamaican guy last month! You were great!" "Yeah!" another one called. "Can you teach us some of your moves sometime?" The schoolgirl blushed. "Thanks, guys. I'd be happy to--" "The purple panties didn't really suit you, though. You should stick to the white ones, or your bloomers." Sakura twitched. Tomoyo giggled. "Sounds like you have a fan club, Sakura-chan." "Shouldn't you go over and take charge as their president, then?" the fighter asked, sticking her tongue out at her friend. "But then I wouldn't be able to concentrate on filming you!" Tomoyo protested, smiling cutely. Sakura sighed, and vaulted into the ring. ~@~ "Attention passengers: we will be arriving shortly at Setagaya Station. All passengers bound for Setagaya-ku, please prepare to disembark." In a row near the back of the car, a Chinese teenager slipped a small Feng Shui board into his jacket pocket. With an apprehensive frown, he retrieved his duffel bag and the long, thin case he carried and waited for the train to stop. It had been a long time since he'd last been in Japan. He wasn't sure he would have come back at all, had the choice been his... None of that mattered now, of course. All that mattered was doing the job he was sent to do. Just like the last time... ~@~ "That girl's a little...weird," one of the students whispered to his sparring partner. "Well, it's a new millenium, I guess you just have to get used to things like that." "It's not *that* that bothers me. It's...well, doesn't she seem a trifle...fixated?" The two young men watched the dark-haired girl track Sakura's every move with her camera, a dreamy smile plastered on her face. They sweatdropped. "So, Sakura," Dan called out as he leapt out of the path of a kick and attempted a rising uppercut which missed wide. "I heard something interesting happened recently...a couple things, really." "Oh? Such as?" The schoolgirl crossed her arms to block a series of kicks by her sensei, then dashed in and drove a rising uppercut into her solar plexus. "Just that some of the more well-known Street Fighters were involved in some bizarre incidents recently, and you were there each time." Sakura giggled. "Eh heh...yeah, weird coincidence." Changing the subject, she asked, "So are you gonna be in the next local draw?" "But of course!" Dan said, flexing a mighty forearm. "In fact, the draw sheets are coming in this afternoon. Oh, and my friend Jimmy's in this draw too! You remember Jimmy, right?" Sakura paled a bit. "Yeah...Jimmy. Heh...uhh, I hope you won't think I'm being rude if I don't hang around much while he's here." "Not at all! After all, you are a busy young schoolgirl with much homework and studying to do! A keen mind is as important as a strong body!" "Sensei, the mail carrier just arrived! The draw sheets are in!" "Yosh'!" Dan said, shaking a fist as he tore into the thick manila envelope. "Anyone participating in the next draw, listen up! The tournament roster has just arrived, as well as the time and place of the matches! Everyone come up and take a copy, and good luck! Remember, fight for your honor and the honor of your family! OYAJIIIII!" Dan cried manly tears as he began passing out the papers. The students, long used to this display, tactfully ignored it. Sakura left the ring area, taking a towel offered by Tomoyo and wiping sweat from her forehead. "You're really skilled, Sakura-chan! I got lots of great footage!" "Thanks. Hmmm..." She perused the document in her hands, brow furrowing. "So this is a roster for a street fighting tournament?" Tomoyo asked, peering over her friend's shoulder (and coming far too close to attempting a hug from behind for Sakura's comfort). "Yeah," the Shotokan fighter replied. "Fight's gonna be Tuesday night, at the abandoned bus depot in...Sakura-cho. Cool, that's not far from my house." She ran her finger down the list, searching for her name. Each name on the roster was printed in Japanese, Chinese, Korean, and Roman characters, and a few were also written in languages Sakura couldn't recognize at all. Eventually, she found "SAKURA KASUGANO" on the chart. "Okay, I'll be fighting in the fourth match...and my opponent...hmm." She tapped her finger against the slot immediately next to hers on the roster. The name listed there was obviously Chinese, as the kana for the Japanese spelling were difficult to parse meaningfully. Beneath the Japanese spelling, the name "XIAO LANG LI" was lettered neatly in Roman characters. "Who're you fighting, Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo asked. Sakura tapped the name on the paper. "This one. Ri Shaoran. Must be Chinese." Tomoyo froze. "Did you say Ri Shaoran?" "Yeah. Why, you know him?" The street fighter glanced at her friend, and became concerned. "Tomoyo-chan? Are you okay?" Tomoyo stared into space wordlessly for a long moment. At length, she whispered, "Oh, kami-sama..." ~@~ The stuttering glow of a broken streetlight cast eerie shadows as two figures faced each other in a grimy alley behind an abandoned warehouse. The smaller of the two, a Chinese boy in his mid-teens with short, sandy hair and hard eyes, studied a small divining board intently, brow furrowed. "I don't understand this," he mumbled. "How can this be...?" He glanced up at the other figure. "What are you?" The creature before him bore only the most superficial resemblance to a human being. Large and muscular, with green skin, sharp teeth and claws, and a long mane of fiery red hair, he was by all appearances more beast than man. He crouched low, eyes burning as he snarled at his current adversary. The Chinese teen returned the divining board to a pouch at his side, and drew his sword, settling into a Tai Chi stance. "I don't know if you truly are what my board says you are, but...if you are, then it's my sworn duty to defeat you." The green-skinned beast roared and charged, lashing out with a vicious claw swipe at the boy. Dodging, he struck with the sword, whose edge caromed off the beastman's thick skin without causing any appreciable damage. With an unearthly howl, the wild creature curled his body into a ball, hurling himself at the teen with incredible speed. Caught offguard, the Chinese boy found himself slamming into a brick wall, raising a cloud of dust. Gritting his teeth, he stood, using his sword to support himself. "God of...thunder...answer my call!" A bolt of lightning lanced down from the heavens, striking the tip of the sword as he raised it high over his head and gathering in a crackling ball of static around the tip. Charging, the young fighter cried out, "RAIJIN SLASH!" The beastman crossed his arms in front of his face as the Chinese boy's sword arced down in a diagonal slash, discharging a surge of electricity which sparked and crackled over the larger man's frame. As the teenager settled back into a neutral stance, the green-skinned fighter uncrossed his arms...and grinned ferally. The Chinese boy blinked. "What? How...?" Hunching down low, the beastman roared. A corona of electricity erupted from his skin, sparks snapping at the younger man's feet. The Chinese fighter's eyes widened. "So...it *is* true. The THUNDER..." The green-skinned man suddenly went rigid, his face slack and confused. Faintly, a ghostly fog settled over his blank countenance, resolving into a wispy, intangible image of a wolf's face. *Thou knowest me. How dost thou know me?* Taking a full step backward and raising his sword to defend himself, the teenager replied, "I'm a descendant of Clow Reed...you should recognize me..." The flickering image of the wolf seemed to frown. *Thou art not familiar to me. Thy claim to descend from Clow Reed is troublesome. I have sensed for some time that the Captor has been reborn. Art thou the Captor?* "Yes...yes, I'm the Captor." *...thou art a liar. Thou hast not the Key, nor the Book. Thou canst not the Captor be.* The boy's eyes hardened. "Regardless, I'm going to recapture you!" *I think not.* The teenager's scream of pain echoed through the night as his opponent electrocuted him. He was given one last glimpse of a retreating green back before unconsciousness claimed him. ~@~ "Ne, Kero-chan," Sakura asked as she did a few stretches before bed, "Do you know why Tomoyo was acting so weird earlier?" The plush guardian eyed Sakura, and commented, "Now, Sakura-chan, I know you don't like the way Tomoyo-chan pays so much attention to you, but..." "Not THAT!" Sakura said, blushing. "I mean when she heard the name of that Chinese fighter. Ri Shaoran." Cerberus' eyes widened. "Shaoran? Is that little punk back in Japan?" The schoolgirl blinked. "You...know this person?" "Know him?" Cerberus was obviously agitated. "I sure do know that disgusting little creep." Sakura was silent for a moment. At length, she asked in a soft voice, "Do...do I...did I know him?" Cerberus nodded. "Yeah." "Oh." The street fighter was silent again. After a while, she asked in an even quieter voice, "How...how well did I...know him?" The plush toy blinked at Sakura. "Well, none of us really knew him that well, aside from that he was a brat and he was after the Clow Cards. And he was really mean to you all the time." Sakura let out a sigh of relief. "Whew. Okay, good." Cerberus eyes Sakura for a long moment. Suddenly, comprehension dawned, and he looked decidedly ill. "Sakura-chan, relax. The younger you was too innocent for anything like that. And you wouldn't have...not with Shaoran..." The schoolgirl smirked. "I guess if anyone would know about that, it'd be a little pervert like you." A vein pulsed on the plush toy's forehead. "Hey now, watch it!" Sakura giggled, and climbed into bed. "Goodnight, Kero-chan." "Goodnight, Sakura." As the teenager drifted off to sleep, Cerberus floated to the windowsill and stared out at the waxing moon, lost in thought. *So, Shaoran is back...all the elements are falling into place just like before.* He sighed softly, looking over at his young charge. *Sakura-chan, I hope things don't end up the same way this time...it was hard enough the first time...* ~@~ A restless Tomoyo had decided to make a return visit to Dodon Gym, without Sakura this time. She wasn't sure why, exactly; she tried to rationalize it as wanting to pump the sensei for information about Sakura's training, her opponents, the tournaments, whatever else she could think of. She knew, of course, that wandering around in this part of town was dangerous for a teenage girl with no self-defense skills, especially at this time of night, but the small stun gun in her purse made her feel more reassured. Tomoyo reached the gym without incident, and entered the dimly lit main room. There were fewer students, and for the most part they were sitting around talking and watching a television on a cart instead of training. She scanned the room and found Hibiki Dan engaged in furious electronic battle with a student at some silly video game. "Ahh, good evening...Yuriko-chan, wasn't it?" Dan greeted as she walked over to him. "Good evening, Hibiki-sensei," she bowed. "So, what brings you here tonight? And...I don't see any sign of Sakura-chan..." "I'm here alone," Tomoyo replied. Dan frowned. "You realize this is a dangerous neighborhood, don't you?" Tomoyo smiled. "It's okay. I'm sure one of your strong, honorable students would be happy to escort a girl home whenever I get ready to leave." The pink-clad sensei nodded. "Indeed. So, what can I do for you?" The girl shrugged. "I'm not really sure, to be honest. I just felt like coming back here. I guess maybe I wanted to ask some questions about the street fighter tournaments, or..." "SENSEI! COME QUICK!" Dan looked up at the panicked student waving from the locker area, and rushed over. Tomoyo, for lack of anything better to do, followed to see what the commotion was. When they arrived in the locker room, she gasped. "Shaoran-kun!" The Chinese teen was lying on a bench, head propped up by a rolled towel. His clothes were charred and smoking, and his hair stood on end. He was out cold, but his chest rose and fell with steady, rhythmic breaths. Dan crouched beside the unconscious boy, frowning. He glanced up at Tomoyo. "You know him?" The dark-haired girl nodded. "Ri Shaoran...he's one of the fighters from the draw. I used to know him when he was a student at the same elementary school I went to." "Sou." The pink-clad martial artist looked up sharply. "Oi, someone call the doctor! I think he's gonna be okay, but it's best to get some help right away!" A student milled near the door. "He was...electrocuted when we found him, sensei. And there was a certain...smell in the air." The younger man looked down. "We think he was attacked by Blanka." Dan's eyes narrowed. "Jimmy? Jimmy wouldn't do something like this!" He looked down at the Chinese boy, and frowned. "Jimmy wouldn't do something like this." ~@~ "Oi. Why're you crying?" "Sa--she--someone I love is...gone. I..." The sandy-haired boy studied the distraught girl with eyes that were suddenly far more gentle than most would have believed possible for him. "Hey. It's gonna be okay...it's gonna be okay." He moved to embrace her, but hesitated, uncertain. The dark-haired girl suddenly flung herself into his arms. "Hold me...please, just hold me...I don't want to be alone right now..." Her tears soaked through the dark fabric of his uniform. "Don't wanna be alone..." Speechless, the boy held the weeping girl, stroking her hair gently as she sobbed. The name "Sakura-chan" escaped her trembling lips over and over again. As he held the girl, he struggled to remember her name. He hadn't known her especially well, but he was connected to her somehow...Sak--no, that couldn't be. Who was this girl? He knew her...was she a friend? What was her na-- "Tomoyo. It'll be okay. I'm here, I'm not going to leave you." Tokyo Tower loomed above them, dark clouds gathering ominously. He began to lead the dark-haired girl for cover, not wanting to be caught in a downpour. He started searching the area, and found shelter: a shrine that seemed to be deserted for the moment. He led her there, and made it inside just as the rain fell. "Shaoran-kun...don't leave me. Don't leave me like she did. Please, don't leave me." "I won't leave you, Tomoyo-chan. I promise." He held her, and sat, and watched the rain fall. ~@~ It felt so good...being in his arms. It didn't take away the pain, but it helped soothe her. To not be alone...being alone would be so terrible, so unbearable... It felt so good...being in his arms, breathing in his scent. She'd never noticed his scent before. He had a clean, strong fragrance about him that made her feel secure somehow. It felt so good...being in his arms, his warm breath in her ear. It didn't take away the pain, but it helped soothe her. To not be alone...being alone would be so terrible, so unbearable...Sakura was gone, dead, and she didn't know what to do. Her world was shattered. It felt so good...being in his arms. He brought a little piece of her world back together. He didn't say much, but he tried to calm her down, to reassure her, to comfort her. He held her, stroking her hair as the rain fell outside, whispering that it would be alright. It felt comforting, even though her heart was falling apart. It felt so good...being in his arms, looking up into his eyes. His eyes...so gentle...why hadn't he had those gentle eyes while she was alive? If he had, would he have taken her away? Would she have noticed? It felt so good...being in his arms, moving closer to his lips. She wasn't sure why, maybe it was the emptiness inside...needing to be filled...filled by this boy she barely knew, and yet... It felt so good...being in his arms, tasting his kiss. Was this right? Was this wrong? She felt like this was wrong, but it felt...warm. Better than being alone, cold, afraid, better than... It felt so good... ~@~ Xiao Lang awoke to a terrible headache and the feel of an unfamiliar, hard bed. He glanced around to discover he was lying on a makeshift cot consisting of a locker room bench and a few clean towels serving as linens and pillow. The immediate surroundings suggested he was in a back room in some sort of gymnasium. A girl sat nearby on a folding steel chair, head nodding, asleep. "Where am I?" he asked quietly. The dark-haired girl looked up, and blinked sleepily. "Huh? Wha...SHAORAN-KUN!" She stood and hastily moved to kneel by his side. "You're awake! How do you feel?" He blinked at her. "I have a headache and I feel sore all over, but...how do you know my name?" The girl stared at him. "You don't...recognize me? You don't remember me?" A fuzzy memory, blurred by age and by forces that strove to prevent the connection from being made. A dark-haired girl with a sunny disposition, a night in Tokyo..."T...Tomoyo?" She nodded. "Un." Xiao Lang struggled to sit up. "Tomoyo...where am I? What are you doing here?" "I was talking to the sensei here when they found you and brought you in. You're in Dodon Gym in Setagaya-ku, Tokyo. You were attacked...you were unconscious." The Chinese boy nodded. "I...I remember. A thing...not a man, but...and THUNDER..." He tried to stand, but his body protested. He collapsed back onto the bench, gritting his teeth and wincing. "Take it easy, Shaoran-kun. You need to rest." Xiao Lang looked at her. "Tomoyo...back then..." Tomoyo suddenly seemed reluctant to meet his gaze, and bowed her head. "I'll go tell everyone you're awake. Excuse me." "Wait, Tomoyo..." But she was already gone. ~@~ "Hey, how come I didn't get to capture a card in this episode?" "Don't ask me. Ask the writer." "Oi! You! What's the deal here? I'm not even the main focus of this chapter!" "It's just plot setup. Don't worry about it. You'll get to do more next time, I'm sure." "Hmph. What a sucky chapter." "I dunno, I kinda liked it." "NOBODY ASKED YOU!" "Ite..." "And what was the deal with all the 'Ri' and 'Xiao Lang' crap? Why can't you stick with one or the other?" "Purely stylistic. I'm sure the next author won't be so eccentric about it." "Jeez, you suck." "Yeah, I know." "I can't believe your prereaders didn't tell you to scrap this chapter." "Don't blame them, I more or less ignored their comments, though I appreciate their input." "God, you suck. I hope the next writer's better than you."