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Chapter Two: Quo Vadis?
The two old friends stood there, at the doorstep, not knowing what to say
next. Finally, it was Mousse who broke the silence. "Um, Shampoo?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you realize that you're standing at your front door completely in the
buff?" He set Ran-Chan's bag down. He was also trying very hard not to
stare at her (and not entirely succeeding).
Ran-Chan grabbed her bag and moved past Shampoo, who was now standing
with arms folded and staring down Mousse. "Is there somewhere I can put my
bag?"
Without looking away, Shampoo monotoned, "Up the stairs, down to the room
with your name in hiragana. That's yours. Make yourself at home; you live
here now."
"Sure thing. Thanks." Not wanting to see the following carnage,
Ran-Chan quickly darted into the house.
One item complete, Shampoo now focused her attention on her other issue.
"Um, sweetheart?" she cooed, seductively.
"Yes, dear?" Mousse responded dreamily. He'd faded into another one of
his fantasies.
With lightning speed, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to her
height and yelled full bore, "DO...YOU...REALIZE...I'M STANDING *COMPLETELY
NUDE*...IN MY FRONT YARD?" She threw a series of rapid punches to his
chest. "WHAT KIND OF BOYFRIEND ARE YOU, TO MAKE ME GO THROUGH THIS!" A
quick spin kick knocked him into the house. She scooped him up and yelled
into his face again, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU...IDIOT!!!!" She threw him
over her shoulder. He ricocheted off one wall, then the kitchen table, and
landed face first on the living room coffee table, a hard oak platform that
broke in two on impact. Little stars began to dance their jig around his
head, as his fingers instinctively went into oyazoku pozu positions..
Walking out of her new room, Ran-Chan saw the whole event, despite her
earlier wish not to. {Yep, those two are definitely in love,} she thought,
thinking back to her brother and sister-in-law. As Shampoo slammed the
front door shut, Ran-Chan asked, "I'm going to make some tea, if you don't
mind. You have any Oolong or Ginseng?"
"Sorry, but I don't drink it anymore," Shampoo answered cheerfully, as
if she hadn't just pounded her significant other into the woodwork. "But
Libby--our other roommate--keeps some peppermint tea in the left top
cupboard. She won't mind. Also, can you turn on the Cappuccino machine
on? Thanks." Ran-Chan nodded.
She also turned to look at Mousse, who was still unconscious, with a
miniature solar system setting up shop around his head. "Oh--in the
freezer, there's an ice pack with his name on it. I'm pretty sure you know
what to do." She strolled towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a
quick shower. I'll be right out, and we'll talk."
{Great. I've moved clear across the Pacific just to find myself in the
dojo all over again.} Ran-Chan walked towards the kitchen, and unwittingly
repeated a line she said six years ago: "The more things change...."
* * *
{That bitch! That bitch! THAT BITCH!} was all that Jade Chiang could
think of as she read the San Francisco Examiner's Restaurant Section. The
Monthly Top 10 Chinese Restaurants list was out, and Jade's very own Golden
Dragon Palace had lost out to the California Cat Cafe. Again. For the
God-only-knows-many-th time. {That writer must be biased. Maybe she's
sleeping with him or something,} she mentally growled.
She didn't understand it. When she started the Golden Dragon Palace in
the heart of Chinatown about eight years ago, she was the talk of the
town...no, the *whole Bay area*. Her restaurant was the most popular, the
constant number one hit on the listings. She was quite simply, the best.
Then *she* came. That damnable little peasant girl from the backwaters
of China--and she didn't even come directly from there but via some little
suburb of Tokyo! She refused to play the game by the rules. She opened up
an "Oriental" (neither Chinese nor Japanese, but a mix) restaurant in
Ghirardelli Square, as far away from the others as possible. She didn't
decorate it in the standard style, but in an airy, soft color schematic.
Her employees didn't dress in the standard Chinese costume, but dressed
like a western-style bistro. She didn't even give it a proper Chinese or
Japanese name--the California Cat Cafe, what kind of damn name was that for
a restaurant? There was no way that the place would succeed. It was doomed.
But it wasn't. It survived. And thrived. When the so-called "Cali Cat"
scored number one on the list, Jade wasn't concerned; fads are fads, she'd
thought. Then it scored again. And again. And had continued to do so,
constantly every month for the last five years standing. And guess who was
always number two.
Jade tried to correct that, sinking tons of cash into the Golden Dragon
Palace, making it by far the most opulent Chinese restaurant in the Bay
area, possibly the West Coast. She'd hired the best chefs in two lands,
the friendliest staff money could buy, valet parking, new decor, the works.
Still she was number two to a small hole in the wall whose only claim to
fame was that it was in the same plaza as the headquarters of the city's
premier confectionery.
Jade rose from velvet chair in her personal office, and walked across the
beautiful to the window--her office was on the third story of the building
in which the Golden Dragon Palace was. She stared out towards the skyline,
as the lights reflected on the window.
Looking at that reflection, you could see the beauty that was a great
deal of her charm, the exotic features that had won her Miss California
when she was 19. Also a girl of Chinese origin like Shampoo, the two
looked similar. However, where Ms. Lao's waist-length lavender-gray hair
and soft, expressive brown eyes were, existed Jade's short greenish-black
"China girl" haircut and those sharp, piercing emerald eyes. She was thin
and well built, currently wearing a body hugging black silk dress. On her
ears, she wore the two items that had become a de facto trademark for
her--a pair of gold loop earrings, each encircling a jade sphere. As
always, she took the jade balls from their loops and held them in the palms
of each hand. Closing her eyes, she began to concentrate.
The jade stones became two emerald stars in her hand, as a green battle
aura enveloped her. She closed her palms, and green energy sparkled and
danced around her hands. The green of her eyes glowed with an unnatural
light. Yes, she'd sat in second place for long enough. Now it was time to
teach this upstart what happened when she messed with a master of the
ancient martial art known as the Fire of the Demon. With that, she turned
and vaporized the chair she'd been sitting on with a massive blast of
verdant-hued ki.
Jade Chiang laughed, a maniacal cackle that echoed through the room.
* * *
{Gosh, he's so cute!} she swooned from her store window. She'd sit by
the store window every night since she opened the Crystal Treasures store
two years ago, and watch him. {He's such a babe!} and other similarly
related comments were all that Ronnie could think about the guy who owned
the Magic Duck on the other side of Pier 39.
Today, however, Veronica Carter didn't see him; just his assistant.
Not that Tyler was a bad guy--they did share classes together at San
Francisco State, and had lunch occasionally together at the college's
burger joint--he just wasn't the dreamboat that his boss was. {Mao Tse
Jiang. Mousse.} She sighed wistfully. {He's probably off today. Good
thing for him; he works too hard. Bad thing for me; now I can't watch him.}
{Bet he's with that girl of his, too,} Ronnie frowned slightly.
Ungrateful little hussy. She didn't deserve such a wonderful, caring guy
like him. She treated him like dirt, and yet he was still faithful to her.
From what Tyler had told her, they'd grown up in China together, and this
was a lifelong thing for him. Why does he continue to put up with such a
little witch like that girl--what did Tyler say her name was? {Zhan Pu, or
something like that.}
She was so fumed that she didn't realize that she was inadvertently
crushing the pewter statue that she just went to the storeroom to get. The
customer waiting for the statue suddenly decided she didn't need the statue
after all and fled from the store. Ronnie had a puzzled look on her face.
{Wonder what made her take off like that?} She shrugged it off.
Finally 6:00 PM reeled around and her employee came to close the store.
She gave him a rundown of the day's events, then proceeded to walk back to
the storeroom/office. She grabbed her gym bag, and paused momentarily to
check her appearance in the crystal mirror she'd just special ordered for
another customer.
On the surface, she appeared to be your average (mousy, as she put it)
midwestern girl from Missouri--average height, curly, soft brown hair that
descended halfway down her back, Bambi-like brown eyes framed by round
spectacles not unlike Mousse's (however, she could see fairly well without
them). Average body, average personality, everything. the only things she
had going for her were this store to see her through college, and her
athletic scholarship that paid for her studies in archeology. Generally,
she was just a plain Jane from a town in Missouri that no one'd heard--or
cared--about, but there was always the chance that even a pauper could
become a princess. {Now, if I can only snare my dreamboat Chinese Prince
Charming....}
She walked to her car, got in, and drove with a destination of her
sportsclub in mind. It was going to be a good workout, for a change: she'd
finally found someone willing to spar with her. {Finally, too,} she felt.
{I can't keep my athletic scholarship if I can't keep up my kickboxing
championship trophies.}
* * *
"So, start babbling, girl," Shampoo said as she sat cross-legged on her
couch. She was dressed in her favorite baggy gray Mickey Mouse sweatshirt
and jeans, with the obligatory towel around her hair for drying. "Tell me.
Mind you, I'm absolutely thrilled that you decided to come live with me.
But I want to know *why*. Everybody told me that this was a sudden
decision." She leaned closer to her best friend, as if sharing a secret.
"In fact, Akane called me yesterday to insist that I talk it over with you.
We're there for you, Ran-Chan, you know that."
She took a sip from her cappuccino, then shrugged her shoulders. "But,
you've only told your Mom and Nabiki what's wrong. What about me? Y'know,
best friends and all...."
"And?" Ran-Chan replied, a bit defensively. She was seated on the love
seat, in her short-sleeve lavender tang shirt and Chinese pants, feet up on
the remains of the coffee table. They'd put the still unconscious Mousse
in Libby's room, where he'd be out for the rest of the night; Shampoo had
gotten *much* stronger over the years and hadn't been watching herself when
she'd "love tapped" him. "Listen, the only reason I didn't tell you over
the phone is because I wanted to tell you in person."
"Well?" she smiled, with an impish look in her eyes. "Last time, I
checked, here I am." Then, she noticed the sorrowful glint in the back of
Ran-Chan's eyes. "Don't say--let me guess. You're having guy troubles,
right? Something that forced you to leave Japan. What happened? Weren't
you seeing that one guy...now, don't remind me, um...Gobei Tanaka?"
"No, it's not that." Ran-Chan stared intensely into her tea. "It's girl
troubles."
"Nani?!?!?!" Shampoo flushed in surprise, instinctively spitting out
"What?!?!?!?" in Japanese. "Well, you came to the right city, at least,"
she spluttered. "But if you think just because I hit on you when you and
Ranma were still, uh, 'connected,' I--"
"Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter." Ran-Chan snapped. "I'm having
problems with *me* as a girl."
"Houston to shuttle: you just lost me." Shampoo cracked.
The redhead began to softly cry. Shampoo went over and put her arm
around her friend. "You don't understand! None of you do!" she lamented,
burying her face in her hands.
Shampoo thought about it for a second as her friend cried in her arms.
{Shit. I'm such an idiot.} The realization dawned on her, and then
Shampoo *did* understand, sort of. "Still having a hard time adjusting to
life?"
The red-haired Japanese girl began talking soflty, every word a Pandora's
Box. "No one understands. I am *not* Ranma Saotome, but everybody treats
me like I am. Okay, I understand: I'm his younger, female *clone*, created
by the Phoenix Eye pendant. I happen to be the second or third one that
has existed, but I just happen to be permanent." From under her shirt she
pulled a ruby tied to a leather thong. The ruby pulsated blood red, as if
in harmony with its owner's heart, and as Ran-Chan held it, a soft red aura
began to coalesce around her, not her battle aura, but something very
different. "But I'm not he! Not anymore. I haven't been since he was
eighteen and I was 'seventeen.'"
Shampoo remembered all too well the incidents surrounding the time when
she lost the only thing she had to remember her parents--the magical jewel
called the Phoenix Eye. In the end, they'd all traveled to Vietnam,
defeated a megalomaniac despot bent on taking the jewel and taking out
Ranma, were finally cured of their curses...and Ranma-chan was "born".
Unfortunately, the event caused the death of some of the fighters involved,
and had virtually destroyed Ukyou's, Gaouri's, and Rouge's chances for
happy lives. Shampoo ended up giving the talisman to Ranma-chan as her
first "birthday" present. {Stop that, Shampoo. You know damn well that's
not even her name.}
Unaware of Shampoo's thoughts, the redhead continued. "Only my family and
those not in the know call me his *sister*. To everyone else, I'm 'another
of Ranma's little magical clones', at best; 'the new curse', at worst.
"Everybody calls me 'Ran-Chan'. That doesn't bother me, but what does is
that everybody thinks it means 'Ranma-chan'. Not a single person except
for Mom, Pop, and Ranma calls me Ranko.
"In fact, the only one who really understands is Ranma. Did you know, he
and I are still mentally linked? Right now, thousands of miles away, I
know what he's thinking...by the way, he just pissed off Akane again." She
flashed a half-hearted smile at that. "And I can't talk to him, because he
*knows*. He's my big brother, and I love him dearly; I can talk to him for
just about anything. Except this. An' it's 'cause he's a guy, even if
we're sides of the same coin. We've been two people instead of one for
eight years, now, and though we understand each other better than anyone
else in this world, we're not the same people...person.
"I got tired of trying to explain it. Mom, Pop, and my bro said I need
to do what's right for me. When Nabiki and Tatewaki moved to LA, that was
another sign. Finally, it was Natsume who gave me the idea. She suggested
that I move away, and start my *own* life."
"So that's when you took off just like that. Just left. Quit your job,
left everything still in Japan."
"You did it on the spur of the moment, during your college years. I've
already got my journalism degree from Shokugakan University." She looked
at Shampoo, pleadingly. "Shampoo, I want to have my own life. I want to
be known for being Ranko Saotome, not just a freak accident, not another
episode in the life of Ranma Saotome. Please help me."
"You don't even have to ask." Shampoo was resolute. She was partly
responsible for this girl's creation, plus Ran-Chan was her best friend.
She wouldn't, couldn't fail her.
Ran-Chan dug a partially crumpled letter out of her pocket. "My bro told
me to give you this. He said it would explain everything." With that
done, she stood up and stretched, yawning. "It's 9:00," she stated, "and I
haven't gotten any sleep, and jet lag's kicking in." She began to walk to
her room, pausing in the kitchen long enough to put her teacup in the sink.
"See you in the morning, Shampoo," she yawned.
"Yeah, see ya," Shampoo dully answered. She wasn't paying too much
attention, as she'd already opened the letter, and was reading it. The
kanji was not in Ranma's rough strokes, but rather, appeared to be written
by Akane:
/Hello, Shampoo.
/I hope this letter finds you in good health. I'd tell you all about
how we're all doing, but I'm sure you and Ran-Chan have already covered
that, and besides, this letter has nothing to do with pleasantries--and I
am sorry to have to say that, dear friend. So let's get down to business,
shall we?
Something in Shampoo's mind didn't feel right. Akane wasn't usually this
direct; Ranma was usually the blunt one. Wary, she continued to read:
/I'm not totally comfortable about writing about this, but we're at our
wits' end, here. Ranma and I are really depressed about the whole thing;
fortunately, most of our family and friends don't have to deal with it,
since they don't live with us. Because she lives at the dojo instead of
Mother and Father Saotome, Ranma and I have tired ourselves out trying to
help her. We all love Ran-Chan very much, but we can't do a thing for her.
/This whole clone business has begun to push her to her limits. She's
so determined to be her own person that she's making adolescent mistakes
that she shouldn't be for her "age". At first, we thought it was part of
her personality. We were wrong. Let me outline what's been going on, lately:
/She's been working out to the point of exhaustion trying to develop a
martial art style entirely different than Ranma's or Father Saotome's.
That would be okay, except that those are the Saotome family styles, not
their choice. He suggested a new batch of attacks, but she insists on
doing something entirely different than she's "learned throughout her
lifetime."
/She wanted to have someone in her life so much that she had an affair
with Kodachi's husband, which started about three years ago. It went on
until she got tired of him and threw the whole deal in Kodachi's face--two
months ago. That, as you can guess, didn't go over well at all. Kodachi
and Mikado are working it out, but it's strained.
/Ukyou's not on speaking terms with her anymore. She's sincerely tried
to help her, and all Ranko done is step on her to the point that now she's
just nice to her for our sakes.
/Ryoga and Akari rarely speak to her nowadays because of her and her
vicious arguments with him--Ranma and Ryoga have made up over the years,
but Ranko seems determined to carry that conflict to the grave.
/Kasumi won't let Ranko near her new baby--she's honestly afraid of how
unstable Ran-Chan is. Tofu is a bit more placid about it, but I think he's
just better at hiding the concern.
/She's constantly arguing with my sisters Natsume and Kurume. She had
a fight with Ku-chan that ended up with a broken arm. I'm sure that she's
told you that Natsume partially gave her the idea to move out on her own.
In truth, it was a huge, destructive fight where Natsume kept insulting
Ran-Chan about her "birth", and finally told her, " Why don't you just move
the fuck out of the house, you mystical freak! Get the hell out of our
lives, you damn cloned whore!" To make a long story short, Tofu says
Natsume should be out of the hospital in a week or two, and with a little
hope, they can begin body training for her shortly thereafter.
/Shampoo, we can't afford the bills or the headaches anymore. I'm
afraid that if she doesn't get help soon, Ran-Chan will go insane. I can't
have children and start my own family if I have to keep worrying about her.
Ranma won't admit it--he refuses to give up on her, but I think he feels
the same way. You're our only hope--Nabiki and Tatewaki wanted to have her
come live with them, but I told them that they didn't need the grief.
/Please call if you need help. If the worst occurs, Ranma and I will
be on the next flight.
/Thank you for all your help.
/Love always,
/Akane and Ranma
{No. This can't be....} Shampoo was shocked. She was so shaken by
these revelations, she refused to believe it...until she looked at the
window to the backyard. There, framed by the moonlight, was Ran-Chan,
pushing herself harder than Shampoo had even seen anyone push oneself.
Then she looked into her friend's eyes.
They were two cold, uncaring cobalt-blue orbs symbolic of a young woman
going slowly insane, being torn apart by her own existence.
It was all Shampoo could do to pull herself away from the window, a look
of severe worry now etched on her own.
The next morning, Ran-Chan was awoken by an over-friendly fuzzball.
There was a loud scream, and Shampoo bolted into Ran-Chan's room--she'd
worn a long sleeve shirt she'd "borrowed" from Mousse's closet. "Are you
okay?" she asked.
The still-drowsy redhead sat up in bed and picked up the cat. "Awww,
it's so kawaii!" She cuddled the cat, which began to lick her face in
adoration.
"Ran-Chan?" Shampoo stared, expecting her to begin meowing and
scratching the hell out of the walls.
"Don't worry," she commented, as the cat purred, curling up contentedly
on her lap. "I'm not the one with alluraphobia." She stroked the cat, who
began to purr even more contentedly. "What's her name, anyway?"
Shampoo breathed a sigh of relief; at least one part of the house was
going to survive the week. "*His* name is Mirror Image. Mige, for short."
Ran-Chan cuddled Mige again. "Hey, how ya doing, boy?" And in fact,
Mige did look like a Mirror Image of Shampoo, back when she was cursed.
"Oh, but I just hope he doesn't get a taste for shredding Chinese clothes,"
Ran-Chan commented.
"That's not going to happen--" Shampoo stated, watching the cute redhead
play with the rather deranged furball. {Akane's wrong. There's nothing
wrong with Ranko that a little understanding couldn't fix.} "--because
you're not going to keep those clothes."
"Nan da?!?!" Ran-Chan leapt out of bed, nearly dropping Mige. She was
wearing, just as Shampoo had guessed, her cornflower blue pajamas with the
fishcake design. "But Shampoo!" Ran-Chan stammered, "there are my
clothes! These are me!"
"No," Shampoo droned, "those are Ranma's. You want to be separate from
your brother, yet you dress in the same manner as him. In fact," as she
pointed to a silken royal blue long sleeve tang with gold dragon
embroidery and matching white pants hanging in the closet, "That's the set
I got him for his birthday last year!"
"It was too small for him, he said. And besides, I'm always taking off
with hi--"
"Exactly my point. You want to be different, you start by *dressing*
different." She went to the bedroom door. "Get dressed. We're going
shopping today."
"Uh, Shampoo, it's Sunday. Isn't the weekend the period people go out
the most? The Cat Cafe was always at its busiest on Sundays."
"Yeah, and the Cali Cat is never open on Sunday," Shampoo countered. "My
staff and I have to have a day off, too. Besides, we'd planned an evening
barbecue in the backyard. Which means we don't have much time." She
looked at the Chinese-dominated closet. "Trust me. We're gonna make a new
you."
"Okay, if you say so," an unsure Ran-Chan said. "I'll shower first."
She sprinted past Ran-Chan and made a beeline for the bathroom door.
Shampoo only smiled. Then she remembered the other occupant in the room,
and turned to him. "You behave yourself," she said as she shook her finger
at Mige. "I have to go check on Mousse."
Mige lazily looked up at her with a just-leave-me-alone stare, and then
continued the task of dissecting Ran-Chan's short sleeve orange top,
swatting the red bow across the room.
* * *
"Shampoo, we've got to work on our communication skills as a couple,"
Mousse said as he rubbed the back of his head. He was sitting up in the
bed with a massive headache after his 14-hour unplanned "nap". "A simple
taking off my glasses would've sufficed."
"You're lucky I didn't take your head off, stupid duck boy," she smiled,
using the term of endearment that was an ironic remainder from their youth.
The smile went away from her face when he winced in pain from the bruise.
"Oh, Mousse, I'm sorry," she murmured. She went and kissed him very
lovingly...on the cheek. "Y'know," she proclaimed as she darted out of the
room (and out of his reach), "your old age must be sliding in. I don't
recall you bruising this easily." She darted back in, handing him Akane's
letter.
"No, I bruised the same; I just was better at ignoring it." Mousse
looked directly into her eyes; she knew exactly what he meant. She was
still slightly mad at him for nearly killing himself in Vietnam. "What's
this for?"
Resisting the urge to kiss him (and not on the cheek, either), Shampoo
answered. "Just read it, then give me your opinion."
He was silent for a moment as he read the letter, pausing only once or
twice to give Shampoo an is-this-for-real? glance. He then set the letter
down. "No, I don't believe it. She doesn't seem like Akane describes her."
"I have to disagree with you on some parts. I personally witnessed her
working--or should I say overworking?--out last night, when she told me
that she was going to bed." She looked over her shoulder to see if
Ran-Chan had walked by, then sat on the bed next to him. "Regardless if
Akane's in a panic fit, it's something that I do have to be aware of.
Also, I'm going to take her shopping for some new clothing. Since I gotta
go to Oakland, I'll have to borrow your car."
"Sure. You've still got the spares?" She nodded slightly. "I'll just
use your BMW."
She rolled her eyes; if he liked her method of transportation so much,
why didn't he just buy one of his own? "Also, I need you think of
something else we can do to normalize her life," she added. "This may
sound odd coming from me, but martial arts is not everything there is.
She's 25, and needs to actually *live.*"
"I do have an idea," he mentioned instantly. "But let me run it past
her. It'll be her personal choice, after all." He softly tapped her on
the nose. "And you're right--that last comment was odd coming from you."
"You must be getting to me in my old age, Mao Tse."
"As long as I get to spend it with you, Shan Fu."
This time she gave in to her desire to kiss him. And not on the cheek,
either.
* * *
Relaxing in the bath tub, Ran-Chan was amazed at the size of the tub,
much less everything in her new home--the house and all its environs
dwarfed everything back at the dojo (which was considered huge for a
Japanese home). Yep, living here was going to be a challenge, no doubt.
In more ways than one. It was going to be, matter-of-fact, her last
chance. She couldn't afford to screw it up.
{Especially after I....} She shook her head in attempt to purge the
bittersweet memories. Her life had started out with such promise, and it
seemed to fade away like so much gossamer silk on the breeze, a fairy in
flight away from the princess in need. The young Japanese woman lowered
her eyelids, body framed in a halo of red hair; began once again to sieve
the bad memories from the good.
In the aftermath of the Phoenix Eye incident, her brother had changed
enough that he and Akane'd finally bared their souls--and more--to each
other days after, becoming an actual loving betrothed couple instead of an
argumentative pair. Ranma, it seemed, crossed his last great obstacle in
growing up.
Not so for Ranko, who had just *started* life. She'd already had two
strikes against her as the next in a line of magical clones that had
haunted the Tendo household; the only thing she had going for her that
*Ranma knew she was different, had claimed her as his sister*. Akane
accepted her, but Nabiki had the neighborhood bracing for shock. With the
bizarre concept of a *romantic* Ranma and Akane, as well as another Ranma
clone--one who strangely enough, seemed to have *always* been
there--everyone on the Kanto plain was walking on eggshells. Fortunately,
things calmed down (as much as possible in Nerima, anyway) enough for the
Tendos to truly accept Ranko as one of their own.
And just when it appeared that she'd earned her right to have a life--an
actual life, she began to flush that life down the proverbial toilet. Oh,
she'd done so many stupid things over the past few years, things that even
set her gentle, caring brother--sometimes her only supporter--on end. In
trying to find an identity, he'd tossed aside her old one, which was a
variation of her brother's; a not-entirely-feminine version that her
friends and family liked about her. {Now, Kasumi, Kodachi, Ukyou, Ryoga,
Akari, and Kurume won't speak to me; and I don't want to see Mikado ever
again, either. Worse, I have no one to blame for my stupidity but myself.}
She was lucky with them, though: someday they *might* speak to her again.
Natsume, however, was another matter, entirely. Natsume would be lucky
if she could *walk* again. Nobody in the family faulted Ran-Chan as she
was completely in the right, plus the fact that it was no secret that the
two women hated each other; but she could easily tell everybody was also
concerned about her resolution to the problem, especially the end.
She'd challenged Natsume to a "first blood" combat, which got out of
hand. {I used deadly force unnecessarily. Something Pop told us never to
do without a damn good reason.} During the fight, when Natsume pushed her
over the edge, Ran-Chan saw red. When she recovered, all she could
remember was Ranma pulling away Akane, who was in a killing rage. That
rage was directed at *her*. Worse, her hands were covered with blood. She
didn't remember much after that.
When she came to once more, Ranma had taken her to a hotel near Narita.
He had a look on his face that told her he was truly disappointed in her,
something she'd sworn she'd never do. He told her that Akane didn't want
to speak to her ever again...and that Natsume was at the hospital with a
10% chance to live. Apparently, when she went berserk--Ranma could feel
her rage in his own mind--she went into the Saotome Final Attack (the new
"Burst Attack" they'd developed, not their father's "Brave, Brave, Sir
Robin" tactic), and broke Natsume's ribs. Worst of all, to add fatal
insult to damaging injury, she'd released a point-blank Mouko Takabishiya
that shattered the other girl's spine.
Ranma came back the next day looking very haggard, like he hadn't slept
all night. He gave her her backpack (fully packed), passport, and enough
money to buy a ticket to the States--which she'd have to pay back, because
they needed it for Natsume's medical bills. He also passed along two
letters: one to give to Shampoo or Nabiki, whoever she wanted to live
with--he'd stated that he and Ukyou stayed up all night forging the
letters, which were "written" by Akane. Since the two also sounded alike
on the phone, she'd disguised her voice and called everybody and told them
that Ran-Chan had decided, on impulse, to leave permanently for America.
The letters would explain everything, he said, and she'd have to face that
fact with whomever she ended up with.
Worse, she remembered his last words, as he said good-bye to her at the
Narita terminal: "Sis, you've really screwed up. Akane and I have always
had a 'Romeo and Juliet' life, but your last little stunt could possibly
cause a real rift between the Tendos and the Saotomes. It's going to take
a long time for me to patch it up with Akane, for Mom and Pop to patch it
up with Father Tendo, and all of us to patch it up with all of them.
You're fortunate that Natsume's condition stabilized last night. If it
hadn't, even though she was absolutely, completely in the wrong, Akane
would've completely ripped you to shreds--you know how protective she is of
her younger sisters; much the same way I am of you. I really hope that
you'll find what you're looking for in the States...because you're not
welcome back with us--any of us--until you grow up. You're 25, sis. Learn
to be it. Just remember: despite the fact that I'm not too happy with you,
I do love you, and will always be here for you. But you have to learn to
be here yourself, first."
Then he walked away without hugging her good-bye or anything. With that,
she was alone, all alone.
{I can't afford to live my life like this anymore, she thought.
Shampoo's right--I have to change everything about myself. It's the only
way I can ever look at myself in the mirror again. I gotta stop acting
like some kind of demonic bitch.} She got out of the bath, drained it,
dried herself off, and wrapped the towel around her to head back to her
room. She stopped only long enough to grab the Phoenix Eye.
She was too lost in her own thoughts to notice that the minute she'd said
"demonic", the color of the Phoenix Eye turned as red as a river of blood.
* * *
In the spacious Palo Alto home that she had, Jade slept. Her body was
silent and still, and only the rustle of the silk sheets could be heard.
Only her chow-chow was moving around, chasing a butterfly that had flown in
through the window. Eerily, the pup wasn't the only thing that was full of
activity in the room.
On her dresser, the jade sphere earrings--the Hearts of the Demon--glowed
a soft green, like grass. Then they began to change color, for a second to
cobalt blue, then to the blue of tears.
Jade Chiang stirred for a second, as if reacting to the stones, then
drifted back into sleep.
* * *
Shampoo and Ran-Chan piled into Mousse's car, a jet black Mitsubishi
Eclipse with red pinstripes (hey, she didn't like the color of the car, but
at least it wasn't hers). Shampoo, not caring to look like the "Cantonese
Cutie" that the San Francisco Examiner had labeled her, was simply decked
out in a Giants ballcap, an Alanis Morrisette T-shirt that she'd gotten at
the concert, a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and pristine white sneakers.
Ran-Chan, however, was dressed in her usual, the only difference being the
pink color of her tang. "So what's the deal, roomie?" Ran-Chan asked.
"First, I'm taking you to Porta'gee Paolo--he's my hair stylist. Then--"
"But your hairstyle hasn't changed in years!" The redhead teased.
"Shut up!" Shampoo retorted back. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was
so rudely interrupted--" she glanced sideways at her passenger, as Ran-Chan
giggled, "--then we'll hit the stores and blow entirely too much cash on
clothing. Then we need to pick up the food for the barbecue, so we'll raid
the fridges at my place; might have to stop at the supermarket, too. Then
we'll come back here, and I'll introduce you to all my friends."
"Sounds like a plan." Ran-Chan buckled in. "By the way, let's stop for
lunch. Breakfast was about four hours ago, and I'm starved."
"The infamous Saotome appetite strikes again," Shampoo deadpanned.
"Okay, let's burn." She dropped her shades onto her eyes, turned the
ignition key, eased out of the driveway, then raced down the street trying
to break the land speed record.
{"Can you drop Mige off at the vet?" she says. She has the car, and I
have her cat,} Mousse thought miserably as he dumped a very unhappy Mige
into the kitty prison. He locked the door, and pissy kitty in hand, walked
over to Shampoo's method of transportation. Her BMW.
A BMW K 1100 RS, their newest, sleekest, fastest model of motorcycle. It
was pearl white, with an emblem that resembled crossed bonbori with a
centered gray cat painted on both sides of the fuel tank. Even her license
plate was pure Shampoo: a customized deal that simply stated: NI HAO!
Jeez, how he disliked the paint scheme. Hey, at least it wasn't his. In
any event, he strapped Mige's cage to the back of the bike and unlocked the
helmet holder, grabbing the white helmet. He was about to put it on when
there was a buzzing at his side. He pulled a small cel phone out of his
pocket. "Hello, Mao Tse Jiang here..."
From the top of the roof, Ronnie watched her dreamboat. She'd followed
him once before when he came here, and even though his was *her* house--a
flash of disgust pulsed through her mind and she had to punch (through) the
roof tiling to calm her stress level down (as her Yoga instructor and
Kickboxing sensei said, "the path of a true martial artist is fraught with
stress")--she swooned with any opportunity. First, after working out,
she'd called her second employee and told him to open, if he could, because
she'd be running late that morning. Then, she stopped at a little arts and
crafts store. After that, she parked around the block and leapt the
rooftops until she got here. She camped out here overnight, and had made
her plans....
"Yes, Mr. Hutton, for a good customer such as you, I'd be happy to order
it, if need be, but let me see if we already have it, first....Let me punch
the query into the inventory and check my stock." From under his sweater
sleeve he produced a laptop computer. He set it on the bike seat, turned
it on, and from the second phone/fax he then pulled out (along with a
portable generator--were they ever going to produce battery powered ones?),
he dialed into the store computer. A second later, he was checking the
database. "Now it seems that we do have that particular model in--1:30
scale LCC-19 class US warship, right?...No, Mr. Hutton, we don't sell
shotguns. We're not a sporting goods store..." He then pulled out a
barstool to sit down on, as well as a catnip ball for Mige. This was going
to be a long conversation....
Watching his skills at prestidigitation, Ronnie fell in love all over
again. For the third time in the last five minutes. She took off her
glasses--she couldn't see as well without them. Yes, she'd do it, she
resolved, and win her true love away from that little witch that had him
wrapped around her finger. She stood up and vowed, "I, Veronica Carter, do
solemnly swear that by this day I will win the heart of my beloved!!" The
nearby birds stared at their slightly deranged visitor. She grabbed her
raincoat and readied to dramatically rip it off. Her plan was to do so,
then leap down to him, all dressed in a big red bow, a seductive
smile...and nothing else. He would fall in love with her and take her in
his arms. At least, that's how it was supposed to happen.
In reality, the zipper stuck. She tugged and tugged, and it wasn't
coming off. She pulled and pulled, to no avail. {There's gotta be a way
to get this thing off....}
"Look, Mr. Hutton, what you do with your ship models is your own
business. But California state laws prohibit me from selling plastic
explosives," Mousse tried to explain as he pulled a mineral water bottle
from the small cooler he'd had to get. He suddenly wished for the days
when he wore his Chinese robes, and thus could carry a full refrigerator,
but it was the middle of summer, and that wasn't fashionable here in the
Bay. So, he had to settle for the midget version. Such is life, he
sighed. "Mr. Hutton, the Fourth of July is next week. Why not just buy
fireworks?...Well, I'm sure if you tied several books of firecrackers
together, you could produce the level of explosion you're looking for...."
{I'm going to get this damn thing off if it's the last thing I do,} she
panted as she wrestled with her coat. She tried cutting it with the tiling
from Shampoo's roof, but that didn't work. She then tried to cut the belt
by biting it, but the belt was designed not to cut easy and so that didn't
work. She was frustrated. She wanted so much to throw herself to him, and
yet, she couldn't entice him if she couldn't display her wares. She was
frantic, and had to do something....
"...Yes, Mr. Hutton. So that's an order for seven cases of the models.
And I'm sure that the guy down at the gun shop does carry a machine gun or
two. I'm not sure about the flame-thrower; you'll have to ask him. As for
rocket-propelled grenade launchers, I really doubt that he would carry
those, either," Mousse pointed out. This had better be a big order; he
usually didn't pull out the third phone and call around except for his best
customers....
Ronnie looked frazzled. The late morning sun was beating down and
heating the tiles, so she was getting completely cooked. The fact that she
was wearing a full length raincoat wasn't helping in the least, either.
Her hair was a mess, she'd crushed her glasses, and was making enough
grunts and half-voiced shouts to make one think that the local birds were
watching wrestling. A stiff breeze began to blow in the air, ruining her
hairdo further, but a least air baking her so she wouldn't entirely *fry*....
Oblivious to the noise, Mousse finished up his call; the customer ended
up ordering about $2500 worth of stuff to blow up. {Some people,} he
smirked, as he began to put away the mobile office, {do the weirdest
things. I'll have to remember to take my cel number off my business
cards.} He still had a few more minutes prior to Mige's vet appointment,
and then he had to get down to the Duck for the evening shift.
Fortunately, Sunday was the day he closed early....
{That's it! I'm sick of this!} Ronnie became extremely pissed, but a
few more punches through the roof calmed her a little. {This damn coat!}
Then an idea flashed in her mind, followed by an angelic smile. {That's
great! Let your beau unwrap the gift, and he'll be all yours....} The
eternally swooning girl swooned once more. She dived towards her target,
with the wind lifting the coattails around her like some insane fairy on
amphetamines.
He put the helmet on, feeling a bit of tightness due to the smaller head
size. "All comfy, Mige?" he looked at the cat, who was buzzed by the
catnip and was busy attempting to Ginsu the ball. He hit the ignition,
getting the attention of the neighborhood kids who were playing in their
yards. They cheered as he popped a wheelie as he raced off the driveway
and towards town.
Ronnie saw him drive off...
...then saw the driveway concrete. Face first.
She got up, dazed and confused, but as unharmed as someone who was a
great martial artist who laughed at pain...or the average resident of the
Nerima ward of Tokyo. She shook off the dizziness, and was furious.
*Really* furious. Her hair began to float away from her face, but it was
hard to tell if it was because of the breeze picking up, or the energy of
the orange battle aura she began to radiate.
The neighborhood kids got to see the following spectacle: a strange
person dressed in a raincoat, diving off the roof of the neighbor's house,
and face planting in the driveway. The woman got up screaming at the top
of her lungs, and began to kick the tree in the yard multiple
times...faster than they could see her leg move. They clapped, because
usually only the ladies who lived in the house across the street were that
strong.
The tree, however, was not impressed that it had been chopped as if by an
ax, and fell, nearly hitting the woman...and easily ripping away her coat.
The kids all laughed, because all the woman was wearing underneath was
two bows, instead of a shirt and pants!
She'd never been so embarrassed in her life, she thought, brushing the
hair away from her face, as well as a bead of perspiration. Her whole body
began to turn the same shade of red as the bows she wore in strategic
places. She should've moved faster. If she hadn't spent so much time
screwing around with her coat--which she turned to see, fluttering in the
soft breeze off the offending branch of the tree she'd just downed--she'd
have caught her man. Now, she'd have to think of a new plan. If she
couldn't be sneaky, perhaps she'd have to be a little more direct.
{It could've been worse,} she admitted to herself, the blush beginning to
subside. {At least the bows held.}
She'd regret those thoughts two seconds later as the breeze momentarily
picked up speed and blew the bows clear off.
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