A/N: All right, I'll get straight to the point: canonically….this story is probably a mess. When writing this one-shot I didn't pay much attention to BlazBlue's timeline(s) or whether it's possible for these two to meet like this in the first place. I mainly wanted to try my hand at writing two particular characters and have them interact, so it turned out kind of AU-ish. Still, I hope you enjoy.

This story is rated T for some strong language. Because of, you know, it having Terumi in it and all.

It was purely by chance that he encountered the man at all, but when he did, Azrael couldn't believe his luck.

Hands jammed in his pockets, he had been tromping Ibukido's ruined streets and roaming its alleys in an almost aimless fashion in search of something, anything, that would sate his hunger. Bored out of his mind, the need for action – for violence – had been crawling under his skin for a while now. The craving – muscles aching, fists itching to smash into flesh and break bones – had been growing, mounting to almost unbearable heights in a way he didn't think he could take much longer, when he saw the man.

He was heading Azrael's way, muttering about some 'damn glasses bitch' or other, the butterfly knife in his hand making a rasping noise as he dragged it along the left-hand wall of the alley. He was long-legged and wiry, his yellow coat and hood standing out in the gathering darkness like a beacon. Azrael could sense power emanating from the figure and recognized the clothes, having seen them in pictures, and he began to grin. A perfect meal. He rocked to a stop, chuckling. The man in the yellow coat noticed him and lifted his head, his swearing and his steps momentarily falling silent. The golden, snake-like eyes peering from under the hood studied Azrael without blinking. There was very little interest in his gaze. Very little humanity too.

"What?" he asked.

"Yuuki Terumi," Azrael said. "What a coincidence, meeting the likes of you here."

The other man tilted his head. The arm holding the knife dropped lazily at his side.

"You are Yuuki Terumi, aren't you? Of the Six Heroes?" Azrael pressed, and now the man flashed a smile, its broad, crescent shape showing the tips of tiny fangs.

"What gave it away? The awesome coat?" he asked. "You a fan or something? I don't have time to hand out autographs. Doomsday, end of the world and all that shit. Busy, busy, you know."

"No offense, but I don't exactly care what it is you're busy with." Excitement curled in Azrael's chest like a coiled spring. End of the world? What a load of nonsense. "I want to fight you."

Terumi's gaze raked over him again, slower this time, lingering on the red tattoos covering his body. Then his eyes lit up and his smile somehow widened even further.

"Hey, I know you, you're that 'Tyrant' guy!" he said. "That 'Mad Dog'! You took me by surprise there. I wasn't expecting you to talk in something other than unintelligible grunts. Yeah, I heard you've been running around beating the crap out of people. So they finally let you out of your cage, huh?"

Azrael shrugged, ignoring the insult for now. He didn't bother asking how the man knew about his situation, nor did he bother explaining that he was hunting Kokonoe and the man wielding the Azure Grimoire. Screw the small talk, he wanted to fight.

"Guess Sector Seven couldn't get the job done without me," he replied.

"Wow, there's a surprise. Bunch of incompetent jackasses." Terumi tapped his knife against his thigh. "Gotta admit I'm liking the whole 'rampaging brute' angle they went for, though," he added blithely. "It's nice and unsubtle. Like a punch in the face. Then again, that is kind of your shtick, isn't it?"

Azrael considered him. "Funny," he said, not particularly amused. "You have a pretty big mouth for such a little man."

"It's one of my many endearing qualities, along with maiming, killing, and cutting the arms off annoying brats."

"And you're supposed to be one of the fabled heroes? You sure as hell don't sound like it." Azrael raised an eyebrow, lips curling. "Well, whatever. I'm here looking for a challenge." Wouldn't mind smashing the son of a bitch's teeth in for his insolence, either. "How about you provide me one and entertain me?"

The other man frowned. "That brain damage affecting your hearing or something? I said I was busy."

"And I said I didn't care." Azrael removed his hands from his pockets to crack his knuckles. "Frankly, I'm done talking – can't say it's been a pleasure, anyway – and I'm growing bored. It's about time you showed me what you got. Come at me, Yuuki Terumi."

"For crying out….seriously, piss off already." Terumi exhaled noisily. "God, it really is 'Azrael, smash!' all day with you, isn't it?"

"Kind of sounds like you're frustrated."

"No shit!"

"Which is excellent." Azrael grinned. "That should be even more of an incentive for you to take me on. Now...amuse me!"

"Ugh, it's like talking to a fucking wall." Terumi's thin lips pressed together momentarily before he flicked a glance at the big man. "So what, you really want to do this?" he asked. "You really want to take me on?" The yellow eyes scrutinizing Azrael narrowed. "You really think you can?"

"You realize who you're speaking to here?" Azrael laughed. Eagerness and exhilaration whipped through him, flushing his skin. "Besides, it hardly matters. Even if I lose, the chance of devouring one of the Six Heroes is going to be worth it. Testing my strength in this manner will be thrilling, fun!"

Terumi pulled his hood further down his face. "You think so, huh?" he hissed. "Fine, you asked for it. Anything to shut you up." Slowly, his fingers tightened around the handle of the knife. "Just so you know," he went on in a solemn voice, "I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson. You chose the wrong person to pick a fight with, buddy. I'm one of the powerful, famous Six Heroes, after all…."

Azrael's grin only became more feral in response. Finally, finally the battle he had been waiting for! Pulse pounding, blood roaring in his ears, he waited for the moment his opponent would make the first move, waited for the instant the limiter placed on him by Sector Seven would be released. Terumi shifted his weight. Azrael, muscles straining, tensed. Any moment now. The silence as the two adversaries seized up each other was deafening.

Abruptly, Terumi burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me!?" he crowed, rearing back. "You actually believed all that crap about me fighting you? I was just messing with you, you moron! Like I'm really going to waste my time and energy on some dumb piece of shit like you!"

"What!?" Azrael gaped, dumbfounded. At seeing his expression, the man in the yellow long coat laughed all the harder.

"Man, that face! Totally nailing the whole clueless, braindead look there! Priceless!" His cackle wound down to a snicker and he leaned forward, hand cupping his mouth and voice lowering to a confiding whisper. "For a moment there I thought I was laying it on too thick, you know? I mean, it was soooo obvious I was just stringing you along and I was thinking: 'Oh come on, Terumi, he's never gonna fall for that. No one's that stupid, right? Right?'" Another bout of laughter. "Way to prove me wrong."

Speechless, furious, Azrael clenched his fists. There was humiliation at the heckling and the laughter, but worse was the disappointment, the frustration. Frustration that the man still wasn't giving him what he wanted. That he was so close to having the battle that he desired and the opportunity to rip this bastard apart if only he went on the offensive, while knowing that he couldn't.

"Damn you," he growled, struggling to hold his temper. "You'd better fight me or –"

"I'll be sorry? You'll never forgive me? Yeah, like I haven't heard that before." Terumi giggled, then snapped his fingers, eyes widening in feigned realization. "Oh hey, hey, here's an idea. Since you're clearly itching to rip my head off, why don't you go ahead and attack me instead? Oh, wait." He smiled. "You can't, can you?"

When his only reply was enraged silence, Terumi's smile stretched into a broad grin.

"I knew it! Let's see…." He rubbed his chin. "Since I doubt Sector Seven would let you go off on a rampage like last time, I'm guessing it's something they did, hm? So how does this work? You can't fight me if I don't want to? At all?"

Azrael's hands twitched. Not only an infuriating asshole, but a perceptive one too. Just his luck. "Why bother asking when you know the answer already?" he ground out.

"Heh. You got me. I suppose you're a little smarter than you look after all." Terumi's smile never wavered as he pocketed his knife. "Well, it's been a blast and all, but you're really annoying, so…." He brushed past the big man. "Don't keep in touch, okay."

Azrael turned with him. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Terumi spun back, spreading his arms. "You can't tell? Really?"

"You're leaving?"

"Duh. What do you think this is, a social gathering? I'm done here."

Azrael's fists clenched tight enough for his nails to dig into his palms. "So you're too much of a coward to face me, is that it?"

Terumi laughed incredulously. "Right, because nothing makes me wet my pants like a big, dumb sack of potatoes."

"Then fight me!"

"Piss off."

Azrael's hand shot out, fisting in the smaller man's shirt, slamming him into the alley wall. Or lightly pressing him against it at any rate, because that was as far as Sector Seven's collar allowed him to go. His muscles locked, causing the intended force behind the shove to be a mild push at best. It didn't improve his mood.

"Why!?" he snarled. "Why won't you fight me!?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Terumi's eyes glittered with callous, cruel amusement. "Because it's more fun this way."

"What?"

"You still don't get it? Damn, I knew you weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, but this beats everything." Terumi cocked his head. "What would be the fun in fighting you if I can get you this wound up by not doing so?" Again that maddening snicker. "Just seeing that desperate, confused expression on your face makes it so much worth it."

Azrael clutched the shirt's fabric, wishing it was the man's neck. "You little shit! I'll –"

Do what exactly? That was the kicker, of course. Staring at the man in front of him, realization dawned that as much as he wanted to, as much as he ranted and raved, there was absolutely nothing he could do to take out his anger on his opponent.

And Terumi knew it too. In fact, that was what it had all been about, wasn't it? All the mocking and taunting and toying. Just so a sadistic psychopath could get off on his misery. He had been playing right into the man's hands all along.

As if reading his mind, Terumi clicked his tongue. "See, that's your problem," he said, the satisfaction in his tone unmistakable. "You're so pathetically predictable it's embarrassing. All that yakking about devouring this and attacking that….Hell, nothing else ever crosses your mind, does it? Must be hard, being unable to go a minute without fighting." His gaze drifted to Azrael's grip on his clothes. "Now how about you get your filthy hands off me? It's not like you can do much of anything if I don't make the first move, so you might as well get out of my face already."

Trying to swallow his anger, Azrael slowly uncurled his fingers. Terumi, seeing himself the victor, slipped from his hold, his features lighting up with vicious elation.

"Easy," he whispered. "Too easy." And then he was backing away, laughing, making a shooing gesture with his hand. "Now get out of here."

More laughter. Azrael watched him, ignoring the mad, wild sound, taking deep breaths. Fine, first round to this bastard. Probably had to congratulate the guy for being the first to get him this bent out of shape. Still, it didn't mean he was going to give up and let his prey get away with it. He was the predator here and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was create an advantage. He wasn't some push-over, after all. He wasn't some weakling.

And he wasn't as stupid as Yuuki Terumi liked to believe, either.

"You know," he told his cackling opponent, "I would like to disprove that statement."

Terumi's mouth snapped shut. He stopped walking and his gleeful expression turned to one of bewilderment, although Azrael wasn't sure if it was surprise at the eloquence of Azrael's words or because he simply hadn't expected any backtalk.

"What are you talking about?" he asked after a moment.

"Just that I'd like to take you up on a little challenge." Azrael slid his hands back in his pockets. "You said I'm unable to go a minute without fighting. I'm betting I can go longer without it than you can."

Another beat of silence, then Terumi sneered. "Isn't that nice. You want to brag? Go talk to someone who gives a damn. I'm through with you." Scoffing, he turned on his heel and started off again.

Only to stop after a couple of meters and whirl back around.

"The hell are you doing?" he asked.

Azrael, trailing behind him, halted as well. "You expect me to let one of the Six Heroes out of my sight that easily?" he said.

Terumi blinked at him. Azrael shrugged.

"You said it yourself," he went on. "I can't do anything unless you make the first move. But on that account, you can't do anything to stop me from following you around either." He grinned. "Well, not unless you physically try, that is."

For a second Terumi faltered, although anger replaced the uncertainty so fast Azrael almost missed it. "Seriously, what is wrong with you?" he hissed, all traces of amusement gone. "You're actually going to stalk me?"

"Figured that was obvious to someone as smart as you." Azrael leaned against the wall. "I'm getting my amusement out of this one way or the other."

"You think this is amusing? You think I'm in the mood for this?" Terumi's eyes shone feverishly from under the yellow hood. "I'm getting sick and tired of your crap."

"Huh." Azrael shrugged again. "Guess you've got a bit of a problem then. Deal with it."

"Don't fuck with me!" Terumi's temper flared, suddenly and violently. Apparently he didn't take well to having the tables turned on him. No big shock, that. "You want me to kill you, you trash!? I'll tear you to pieces!"

Azrael quirked an eyebrow. "So does that mean you're going to fight me?"

Too furious to respond, Terumi's expression held so much hatred it told Azrael everything he needed to know about the man's true nature. Trembling with rage, he visibly struggled, torn between the desire to go for the big man's throat – Azrael could practically feel Sector Seven's collar loosening – and the refusal to give in and be outdone by the 'dumb' creature he so clearly despised.

Finally he threw up his hands, whipping around with a snarled 'Fuck!', and stomped off. Smirking, Azrael resumed following him, through one alley and the next, the familiar stirrings of excitement once again twisting in his stomach. Kokonoe and the man with the Azure Grimoire were going to have to wait. This was turning out far more entertaining than he'd thought.

Idly, he wondered how long it would take for the man in front of him to snap completely. Judging by the glares Terumi tossed over his shoulder, which appeared to increase in frequency and murderous intent with every step, he didn't think it would be long before he had his battle.

And even if it took a while, it didn't matter. Azrael could be patient if he wanted to. He would get that fight eventually, and when he did he was going to take his time killing his opponent too. He was going to take his time ripping the little shit that had been such a pain in his ass limb from limb. See how long he could make him last before he expired.

After all, he always did enjoy a challenge.