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MANCHUKUO'S FEMME FATALE: KAWASHIMA AKANE
A tragic Ranma fan fiction / historical drama regarding the
Japanese invasion of China during World War II, and Kawashima
Yoshiko's (now played by Akane) involvements in these blood
stained pages of history.
Note: All major characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi. All deceiving
schemes and slaughters that China had suffered through in this fan fiction
are FACTUAL. Hopefully, this piece of work can teach people of all
nationalities the horrors of war.
Major Characters:
Akane (Kawashima Yoshiko)
Soun (Prince Su)
Genma (Mr. Kawashima)
Ranma (Lieutenant Amakasu)
Herb (Genzu Zabu)
Ryoga (the boy in the Chinese circus)
The principal (Commander Tanaka)
Mu Tsu (The last Chinese emperor)
Xian Pu (The last Chinese empress)
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B O O K 1
1945.
It was a quiet night in the late autumn of Beiping(Peking).
A group of mysterious figures had gathered outside a huge
mansion. The mansion was old, and cracks caused by years of
rainfall formed weblike patterns along the dark, red walls
graying with dust. The door of the exterior gate was very high,
with a huge metal ring acting as a bell.
One of those figures knocked the door with the ring. After
a while, an old servant came and opened it. Before the door was
completely opened, the mysterious figures took the opportunity to
soundlessly rush in before the servant can protest. Two huge
collies rushed up to the figures, and were immediately sprayed
with paralysis powder. Everything was in their control now.
The old servant was too scared even to scream. Instead, his
legs failed him as he involuntarily kneed down. The mansion was
divided into three main houses inside the huge garden. One of
the figures, a tall Chinese man, leaned down and looked the
frightened servant right in the eye.
"Where is she?" He whispered.
The old servant lowered his eyes. After all that she had
done, something like this was bound to happen. He got up
trembling lightly, and led those mysterious men into the
innermost house. Once inside, he pointed to a room on the left.
The tall man, apparently the leader of the group, nodded to
the rest of his men. They took out their guns, and cautiously
edged toward the room. The tall man couldn't help but trembled
as he held on tightly to his gun.
These men are really a unit of agents working for the
Chinese national government. All of them have been waiting to
nail this all too famous target for years. Now that the Japanese
invaders had finally been driven out of China, this historic
moment could finally come true. Excitement shook through him as
he lightly pushed open the door.
Darkness prevailed in the unknown territory behind the door.
Through the weak light coming from outside, the group could make
out a luxuriously decorated bedroom. In the middle of the room
was a large bed, hidden by layers of half-translucent red fabric
falling over it from the ceiling. The agents immediately
positioned themselves around the bed. The tall man squinted his
eyes, and saw a figure lying on the bed.
Could this be her?
The tall man had head hundreds of stories regarding this
most famous traitor of China. Glamorous was her face, but evil
her heart. The last princess of the overthrown Manchukuo, the
deadliest weapon Japan had ever used in its invasion . . . The
hand holding the gun sweated.
He soundlessly walked toward the bed, and lifted up the
fabric. Another spy turned on the light. . .
. . .and suddenly, a small blur shot out of the tent.
"Bwweeeeeee!!!!!!!!"
Everybody immediately raised their guns as one man shot it
in reflex.
The light was on. Lying on the floor was an insufferably
cute black piglet with a yellow bandanna around its neck. Its
eyes were wide, staring lifelessly at the intruders.
Something trembled under the red covers of the bed.
A woman's shrill scream can be heard. "P-chan! -"
Everything is happening at too fast a rate for this
half-asleep woman. She lifted off the covers, and a foul odour -
the
odour of a hopelessly wounded beast - permeated the room.
Everybody fought back their repulsions, and waited for their
target to come out.
At first, it was just a hand. Time had not been kind to it.
Lines and budging veins covered the back of this skeletal claw,
and the nails on the dried up fingers are untrimmed.
A face showed itself as the covers were pulled down.
It was a woman in her forties.
An old woman in her forties.
She's thin to the point of being skeletal. Her short hair
was in disarray, her cheekbones were pointed, and there were dark
shadows under her eyes.
Was this a wilted flower way past it's season? Or maybe
they just happened to get the wrong person?
Everybody was more or less in shock as they stared at this
personification of ruin. The tall man turned away from this
faded face and saw a morphine needle lying on a corner of the
bed.
"You are . . . ?" One of his men asked in his curiosity.
The woman asked him back. "Who are you looking for?"
As everybody simply stood there without knowing what to do,
one of the agents came up and whispered to the tall man. "It is
her."
The tall man was incredulous. THIS was the legendary
traitoress that had almost led the Japanese army to victory?
Nonetheless, he recollected himself and signalled to an
agent
behind him as he and the others stood back.
"Turn around and strip." A female voice commanded to the
woman on the bed.
The woman gritted her teeth as she glared at the agent, who
had dressed as a man. She felt that the agent was mocking her:
cross-dressing was supposed to be HER specialty!
She knew the reason for the order. Her beauty had faded, up
to the point that nobody could have recognized her face anymore.
Nevertheless, the secret of her body was still there. These
government agents had researched well indeed.
They knew about the scarlet mole on her left breast.
Strip? No way. When she striped, she always did it to get
something in return. Information, wealth, power . . . this body
was the bait for them all. She treasured her slender body . . .
the mole on her delicate breast . . . a drop of unfading blood
luring thirsty men to her traps . . .
Once upon a time, men, both Japanese and Chinese, had run
their tongue across this tempting spot, sending waves of pleasure
deep into her soul. Once upon a time . . .
How could she ever strip under such a shameful circumstance?
The other agents raised their guns at her. No long in shape, she
couldn't possibily defeat a dozen people armed with guns anymore.
Since she couldn't escape . . .
The woman looked up, an aura outlining her no longer
youthful features. "There is no need for that. I AM
Kawashima Akane." She spoke those words with much force.
A black bag covered her proud face as they handcuffed her.
As she was escorted' out of her mansion, the once heavily
decorated Akane was wearing nothing but a pale blue night grown.
All of her possessions were confiscated by the government.
Everything went dim and chilly.
Her time was over.
Ever since the September of 1945, when the Japanese emperor
announced the surrendering of Japan, Akane's stubbornness finally
gave way to rationality as she realized that her days of fame and
power were truly over. She burned all the relevant records
regarding her involvement with Japan's Kwangtung Army. All that
was left of her legendary past was a jewelry box, in which laid
top quality gems, pearls, jade and all other valuable items.
A necklace made up of thousands of diamonds, in the shape of
a rising phoenix, was the best piece of jewelry among them. An
earlier picture, taken in 1934, showed Akane's beauty in its full
bloom. Her eyes and brows were dark, making a sharp contrast
with her crimson lips. The face had a sharp but sultry look on
it, enhancing its natural beauty. The diamond phoenix went well
with her formal but form hugging Chinese dress, giving her a
classy look.
This picture was now on every newspaper on the streets on
Beiping.
"Extra! Extra! Traitoress Kawashima Akane will be put on
trial tomorrow!" The newspaper boy yelled out to the
pedestrians, almost dancing with joy as he spread the news
around, purposely stepping over a discarded Japanese flag.
He ran into a man, who had lost an arm after being tortured
by the Japanese army years ago. Neither of them was angered.
Instead, they and all those around them chanted triumphantly.
"Down with the traitors! Down with the Japs!"
Finally, China would see some light again . . . even thought
it might not last long.
"I heard that she was really gorgeous!"
"She is a witch! Killing millions of her own kind!!"
"But she's just a woman, how could she do all that."
"Who cares? Lets bring something handy to throw!"
"Down with the Traitor!"
The mob senselessly released the years of oppressed anger
during the war. Beiping was far from alright. The prices of
everything had risen to frightful heights, only American bucks
were the standard measure of money, and the communists were
threatening to invade the city . . .
They could only rely on seeing the traitors' downfalls to
release their anger.
At the time of the trial, around 5000 people were gathered
outside the Legislative Court, waiting to get a glimpse of the
legendary demoness. All were disappointed when it was a closed
court trial. After causing some tiny uproar, they all went home
grudgingly.
Three days later, inside the court.
After being moved through various courts for over a year,
Kawashima Akane was finally going to get her last trial right
here. She still looked as dried up as ever, but her hair was
combed and was wearing a white suit.
The judge began in a grave voice. "Defendant Kawashima
Akane, otherwise known as Kam Bik Fai, nicknamed Scarlet. The
definition of a traitor is a Chinese who had aided Japan in its
invasion of China during the war. The court shall gave a life
sentence or a death penalty shall one be convicted."
Akane hmphed lightly with distain written all over her face.
"Whatever."
The judge's voice hardened. "May the defendant be more
respectful to the court!"
Akane glared at the judge. "You expect ME to be respectful
when all of you sorry lot were once under my power?"
The judge was a bit taken back. What she said was true. He
coughed as he tried another tactic. "About that Japanese man
found in your mansion at the time of your arrest-"
Akane deflated a bit. "Hiroshi is just a secretary in name.
The poor man knows nothing about me. You people shouldn't arrest
him: I alone take responsibilities for my actions."
"Very well then, lets talk about OTHER man that you were
connected to. Kawashima, who was involved in the Black Dragon
Society; Tanaka, who was the central commander of the Kwangtung
army; the Japanese prime minister. . ."
The list of Japanese men continued on and on, haunting her,
taunting her.
Japanese men . . .
Was she nothing more than an object to be passed back and
forth between these Japanese men? Was that the reason of her
downfall?
No. . .she won't fall.
Akane drilled her eyes into the Judge's, cutting off his
awful list.
"No."
"I beg your pardon?"
Akane looked intensely at the Judge. "I don't qualify as a
traitor'." She pronounced each word carefully, then suddenly
switched to speaking in Japanese.
"I am Japanese, not Chinese!"
Almost everybody in the court began murmuring among
themselves in awe. She wouldn't admit that she was Chinese!
Maybe it's just that China wouldn't admit that she was
Chinese in the first place.
She was only seven then.
E N D B O O K I