NOTE: This fanfic, aside from drawing on various anime sources, is loosely
(very loosely) based on the Japanese Movie 'Swallowtail' which featured the
J-pop star Chara. Therefore, credit is due to Swallowtail productions, and
I don't claim any rights to the concept, name, or characters. 

Also, this is not your average TimeRunner fanfic. Be prepared to find
elements in this story which are not generally associated with my writing.
This is not a very happy fic, but neither is it a dark fic, either. Anyway,
you'll see what I mean. 

Proper mood music for this series would be anything from Key, The Metal
Idol, especially the opening track, [In The Night]. 

Nothing from the Ranma Series will work.

Revision status: Corrected some typos, and clarified one description that
potentially might have glutted up the natural flow of the story. Thanks to
Lara Bertram and Thomas Schmidt for the C&C.

On with the show.

=====

	The little girl with the pigtails and coveralls stood on top of the
building, on the edge. She stared at the city below, her new home ever
since her father decided to move here with his friend. The buildings around
her were bathed in the setting sun's light, some glinting, some not.
	"Someday," she said to her companion, a brown-haired little boy whom she
just met, "I'm gonna be rich, and all of these big buildings will be mine!"
	"Okay," the boy answered, "if you do that, then I'll do that too!"
	"You can't do that!" she exclaimed. "We can't both own the same buildings!"
	"Why not?" the boy asked. "Can't we share or something?"
	"I guess," she answered. "You know how I'm gonna do it?"
	"How?"
	"Easy," she said, "I'm gonna make a lot of rich friends, and I'm gonna
make them buy it for me!" She giggled. "What about you?"
	"Me? Um, I never really thought about it. Uh, I'll probably do the same
thing."
	"You can't do that!" she said again. "If we have the same friends, then
they'll run out of money, and they won't be able to buy all of the buildings!"
	"They don't have to buy them twice!" the boy answered. "All they have to
do is buy half for you, half for me, and we'll just share!"
	"I guess you're right," she said.
	"I am right!" the boy exclaimed. "In fact, I'm so right that I'm willing
to pinky-swear on it, if you will, too." He stuck out his right pinky.
"Yubikiri?"
	She stared at the finger for a moment, and then she wrapped her own pinky
around it. "Yubikiri," she said, smiling. She let go, and went back to
staring at the city.
	The boy sat down on the floor, and leaned against the stairway door,
popping a stick of gum into his mouth. After a while, he said, "You don't
think we could REALLY do that, could we, Nabiki?"
	Nabiki turned back to look at the boy. "Mitsuru, you're stupid."

*****


	Once upon a time, there was a town in which the yen was all-powerful. It
was illegal to possess it, and yet, owning yen promised unlimited wealth by
some mysterious means, and so people kept trying to get some for
themselves. For this reason, outsiders called the town 'Yen Town'. The
residents of the city who didn't join the mad quest for the yen saw the
name as a term of derision, and called those who sought the yen by the same
name. It was an odd thing, that the town, and the people that lived in it
were both called…



Y e n  T o w n

A Limited Fanfic Series



All characters contained within are property of their owners, and are being
used without consent, for non-profit purposes.

*****
Chapter One

	Ten years later…

	Nabiki arrived home from school. She opened the old sliding door and went
straight for her room, tossing her bag onto the bed. She reached into her
pocket and took out the day's earnings.
	"Ten, twenty, thirty, forty-five dollars and seventy-two cents. Not bad."
She placed it all in a small lacquered box on her dresser. She went to the
kitchen and fixed herself some instant noodles. As she ate at the small
central dining table, she stared at the empty kitchen sadly. She then
simply sighed, and continued to eat.
	After a few moments, she suddenly said, out loud, "It's quiet."

	No one answered.

	Like anyone would answer, she thought. It had been a year since Kasumi got
married and left. Soon after that, her father and Mr. Saotome disappeared
with Akane and Ranma, leaving a note that said something about 'training'.
And now, no one else is around, and I have to fend for myself…
	Anyone else would have broken down and cried. Anyone else would have given
up and left, to look for the others. Anyone else would have lain down and
died.
	But Nabiki simply shrugged, and ate the rest of her ramen.



	Mitsuru sat on the park bench, watching the people go by. He sighed to
himself. Temple. I have to go back to Ikeda Temple. I should just give this
stupid dream up and take over the temple from my father.
	He leaned back and traced the city skyline with his eyes. Even inside the
pack, the din of traffic and commuters and pedestrians and peddlers and
panhandlers and beggars rang incessantly, grating, pounding, gnawing at
him, driving him insane with every rumble, every step, every pitch, every
single appeal to his sympathy.
	He had everything going for him. He had good grades. He excelled in
sports. . He was the desire of every female and idol of every male high
school student in the entire town. Gifts and praise were constantly
showered on him by most everyone he met.
	And yet, Dorm President Ikeda Mitsuru simply leaned back, on a dusty old
park bench, heaved a sigh, and said…
	"I'm tired."


	The sound of water dripping rang throughout the house. A pile of empty
noodle cups not quite blocked the path of the water, allowing it to strike
the unwashed pots and pans sitting in a shallow scum-crusted bath in the sink.
	A toppled pile of coins lay, partially on the dresser, partially on the
floor below. The top coin was wet with that ring of water a cold glass
always left on a wooden table., although the glass was no longer there.
	Nabiki lay in her futon, her right hand gripping the yellow sports towel
she had used after her nightly exercise. Although the night air was
bitingly cold outside, beads of sweat still formed on her arms, legs, and
brow.
	She shivered.


	Mitsuru shivered.
	Breath forming fleeting clouds in the night air, he pulled up his jacket
collar above his neck, tucked his hands in the pockets, and began to walk
home.
	It was staring at him, this building. Every glass window an eye, glaring
at him, mocking him, as if eyeing his dream, eyeing his delusion. There was
no way to succeed in this town, there was no way to succeed and remain
sane. There was no way to stay sane without going insane.
	He glared back at the skyscraper.
	You can't beat me, you can't knock me down. Success is not defined by how
far up the floor your office is on is. He turned his eyes up, to the
penthouse., where the light indicated that whomever worked up there was
still there. You're up there, but are you happy? You're financially secure,
but are you content?
	He chuckled. I'm down here, I'm no executive, just a priest's son. We're
both unhappy right now. I'd say you're way ahead of me.
	As he stared at the top window of the building, the lights went off. He
stopped walking and stood there for long moments, still looking, still
staring.
	He turned and started to walk away, then glanced back up. "I win. You
blinked," he said.


	Nabiki blinked.
	She stared at the broken picture of her father, lying on the floor where
she had accidentally knocked it down.
	A piece of paper stuck out from behind. She picked it up, unfolded it, and
examined it. Another piece of paper fell out, but she didn't pick it up
yet. Instead, she examined the original piece.
	Ten thousand, it said. Ten thousand.
	What was this bill? Some kind of foreign currency? It was starting to
yellow around the edges, and was a little wrinkled, but was otherwise intact.
	She picked up the other piece of paper. She unfolded it, and immediately
recognized her father's handwriting. It had one sentence, written hastily,
it seemed. 
	It said, "Your inheritance."
	"This is my inheritance? This... thing?" she snapped in irritation. She
held it as if to rip it to shreds, but then thought otherwise. "I can
probably sell it to some collector or something," she said, sighing. "At
least I'd make a few bucks out of it, hey, maybe even as much as fifty. Oh,
look at the time, I better get going, Mitsuru's probably waiting for me."
She folded it, put it in her wallet, and left out the front door.
	Tendo Soun's picture stared, smiling, into the pile of half-dollars it lay
next to.


	I may not be rich, I may not be some big corporate hotshot, thought
Mitsuru, but at least there's one thing I'm thankful for...
	He smiled, staring deep into Nabiki's dark brown eyes as they walked down
the sidewalk.
	She smiled back and held out her hand. "Ten dollars. And forty-seven cents."
	"What?!" Mitsuru exclaimed. "I'm trying to have a tender moment with you
and all you can think about is the ten dollars and forty-seven cents I owe
you?"
	"Well, yes, actually," Nabiki said. "Every time we have these moments
together, you forget about the money you owe me. So I figured I'd collect
now and get it out of the way."
	"You have the romantic soul of a cash register, Nabiki," Mitsuru said,
digging into his pocket, grumbling. "I know I have some cash here
somewhere..."
	"Don't pull the old 'my wallet's stolen' routine on me, Mitsuru. I know
you too well. If anything you own at all is missing, it's yesterday's
underwear."
	"Is it my fault those women are crazy?" Mitsuru asked indignantly.
	"The money, Mitsuru? I'd like to get this little business out of the way
as quickly as you do, you know," Nabiki said in mock-impatience.
	"Aha!" Mitsuru exclaimed. "Here!" He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "Aw,
nuts! I don't have any change."
	"Don't pull that 'I don't have any change' stunt on me, Mitsuru."
	"I know, I know. Say, do you have any change on you?"
	"You're doing it, Mitsuru."
	"Not on purpose!" Mitsuru cried. "Okay, look over there," he pointed, "a
change machine. I'll go get change there."
	"Let's."

	"Damn machine!" Mitsuru said, banging on it as it rejected his bill for
the nth time. "Say, Nabiki, how about you get some change? Then you could
just..."
	"No go, Mitsuru. All I have right now is this funny-looking bill." she
said, pulling it out and showing it to Mitsuru.
	Mitsuru's eyes widened. "That's... that's...."
	"What?"
	"Hide that thing!" he hissed, keeping his voice down and looking around to
see if anyone was watching. No one was.
	He searched the machine for any surveillance cameras, but there were none.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Safe," he said.
	"Why? What's this all about?" Nabiki asked, eyes darting around nervously,
even if she had no idea what she was looking out for.
	Mitsuru grabbed the bill and inserted it into the change machine, before
Nabiki could do or say anything. "Hey!" she exclaimed, "What do you think
you're doing?"
	"Shhh! Not so loud!" whispered Mitsuru. "Just watch!"

	The machine rejected the bill.

	Nabiki grabbed it and placed it into her purse. "Honestly!" she whispered,
even though she didn't know what she was whispering for. "You do the
weirdest things sometimes." She started to walk away, and looked back at
Mitsuru. "Are you coming or..." Her voice trailed off.
	The machine spouted out a one-hundred dollar bill.
	And another.
	And another.
	And another.

	Nabiki couldn't believe her eyes, even as Mitsuru grabbed a box and
stuffed each bill into it, hiding the box under his jacket the whole time.

	After what seemed like an eternity, the machine stopped. It displayed the
'out of bills' message.
	"C'mon, let's go!" hissed Mitsuru, grabbing Nabiki's arm and running.
	"Ouch, you're hurting me!" Nabiki cried, nearly stumbling.
	"You can complain later! Let's get out of here and go to your place,
fast!" Mitsuru said, eyes searching for someone, anyone, who saw them.


	"Will you please explain to me what the heck is going on, Ikeda Mitsuru!"
Nabiki demanded as they stared at each other, gasping for breath, outside
the front door of her house.
	Mitsuru's heart and his temples pounded. The realization of what had just
transpired and the exhilaration clouded his sight, clouded his judgement.
The expression of uncertainty on Nabiki only served to make his heart race
even more. As he lifted his jacket to look at the box, he realized that the
scent that was clinging to it was hers. "Open the door," he managed to say.
	Nabiki did, stepping inside, out of the cold. Mitsuru followed, closing
the door behind him. He walked over, trying to avoid looking at her, and
walked into the bedroom, placing the box on her dresser.
	"Mitsuru? What is going on? What happened? How did you get all that
money?" Nabiki asked frantically, one question after the other, as she
entered the room. "What is this bill my father gave me? And how do you know
so much about it?"
	"Nabiki," he said, drawing closer without looking into her eyes, "shut up."
	"How can you tell me to shut up?" she cried. "I don't even know what's
going on! Why don't you tell me what's going on?!"
	He looked up at her, and he couldn't stand any more. He grabbed her by the
shoulders and stared into her eyes. The scent of her sweat, the scent of
her hair... the scent of HER, filled him, and he felt his resolve slip away.
	"Mitsuru! Tell me what's going on! I demand that you give me an exp--"
	He kissed her. 
	She tensed for a moment, and then began to kiss him back. He slipped his
hand down to her waist, down to the side of her thigh... He felt her back
arch forward, and he kissed her, deeper... He heard, no, felt,  a moan from
her, and started to kiss her on the neck, working downwards...

	The box sat there, on top of the dresser, tilted, sitting on top of the
pile of half-dollars, momentarily forgotten.

	Nabiki rested her head on Mitsuru's chest as they lay, under the sheets.
Neither of them spoke, both of them spent, the sound of their breathing
interrupted only by the sound of dripping water.
	Long moments passed, as Mitsuru traced the arch of Nabiki's back lightly
with his middle finger. Her cool flesh was slick with sweat, and her whole
body exuded that exquisite scent. He wondered why she bothered to wear all
those perfumes when just her sweat smelled this way.
	"Mitsuru," she finally whispered.
	"Yes?"
	"What was that all about?"
	He took a deep breath. He searched his mind for the proper way to put it,
but the only way he found was the obvious way, the blunt way, and so he
used it. "Your father left you a yen bill."
	"Yen? That was a yen?"
	 "Yes."
	"That thing that you and your childhood gang used to 'quest' for?"
	"Yes. Me and my gang of Yen Towns."
	Nabiki nodded, and it occurred to Mitsuru that the gravity of what they
had done was still lost on her. "I remember. I thought that the yen was a
myth, and that you left because you stopped believing it existed."
	"No. I knew it was real. I just... left the gang after things got a little
too out of hand."
	"After... That time?"
	Mitsuru nodded. "The police stated cracking down on everyone who had yen,
or even knew of yen. A lot of my friends were killed or captured. I don't
even know where Shinobu, Kintaro or even Tetsuo are anymore."
	"Ugh, Tetsuo," Nabiki said, grimacing at the name. "Good riddance. Shinobu
did the right thing, driving him away like that."
	"I know, but he was a friend, and he helped me out when I needed it, so I
put up with it, until he left," Mitsuru said, taking Nabiki's hand into
his, comforting her for the doubt he thought she should be feeling.
	"And how about that dead-calm Shinobu, huh? Talk about your stiffs."
	"I thought you liked him. You thought he was cool."
	"I did think he was cool," Nabiki replied, stroking Mitsuru's hand, which
oddly enough,  comforted him, although she probably didn't realize she was
doing it. "He was calm and composed all the time. He never lost it. Not
like SOME people I know, who completely lose it in the heat of the moment,"
she teased.
	"Hey!" Mitsuru said, grinning. "It wasn't just me! Kintaro was like that
too!"
	"I remember Kintaro. He used to have a crush on me."
	 "He used to have a crush on all the girls, not just you."
	"Well, thank you, Ikeda-san, for lowering my self-esteem another notch,"
Nabiki said in mock-indignation.
	Mitsuru chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."
	"I don't care," Nabiki said, teasingly. "Apologize."
	"Okay. I'm sorry."
	"Not good enough," Nabiki said, continuing the act. "I want you to beg on
your hands and knees."
	"My hands and knees? But I'm naked!" Mitsuru exclaimed.
	"I know," Nabiki said.


	As Nabiki slept, Mitsuru lay there staring at the box on the dresser,
staring the fulfillment of his dream in the face.
	The sound of dripping water pounded on his skull. It seemed louder than
all the cars and all the people in this town all together. Every drop made
the box seem to draw closer to him, every pound on his head made it seem
more and more oppressive. He started to find it hard to breathe again, and
he broke out in a cold sweat.
	The box felt bigger than the city.
	He stared at his dream in the face, and he did not like what he saw.
	

	To be continued...


	TimeRunner, January 5, 1997

=====
TimeRunner's Page:
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Towers/7482
=====

"The story grew in the most convoluted way, as many people will be
surprised to learn. Writing episodically meant that when I finished one
episode I had no idea about what the next one would contain. When, in the
twists and turns of the plot, some event suddenly seemed to illuminate
things that had gone before, I was as surprised as anyone else."

--- Douglas Adams, "A Guide to the Guide"