--
wroberts@tvi.cc.nm.us
Madam, there's no such thing as a tough child -- if you parboil them first for
seven hours, they always come out tender. -- W. C. Fields
<a href=
"http://studentweb.tulane.edu/~wrobert2/">Suika no homepage</a>
------------------------------ cut here ------------------------------
[rse(?)][nullify][potion][hundred][twenty][two][formula]
A redesign of `Nullifier 122'
``What's this?'' I ask the little Chinese peddler, holding a small
bottle up for his inspection. Only the last few characters of the label
remain, a half-character that could be `curse' at the top, what appears to be
`nullifier one hundred twenty two,' and the character is probably `formula.'
``I don't really know. I bought it from this man who claimed it was a
cure for curses. He said he'd stolen it from the Nyuchezuu.''
``How much?''
``It's a nice bottle. 125 yen?''
``Sure.'' *The peddler is right, it is a nice bottle, and worth that
much even if it isn't a cure. What harm could come from trying it?* I quickly
block the stream of thought
_that_ generates; dig a handful of coins out of my
pocket, pass over five coins and stuff the bottle back into my pocket with the
rest of the coins. I murmur a faint thanks to the peddler.
``You're welcome, miss.'' The possible cure in my pocket and the
lingering sense of well-being left by my mother's acceptance of my curse lets
me ignore being called `ojochan.'
I feel the bottle in my pocket as I walk towards home. If it was like
all the othe `cures' that I had tried I should dump it into a bucket and douse
myself with it. *Or maybe I should drink it. I'll try the first way, and if
it doesn't work I'll try the other. The stuff can't taste good after having
been in a bottle so long.*
``Tadaima!'' I call, taking off my shoes.
``Okaerinasai!'' Comes the reply from the kitchen. *Oh no, Akane's in
the kitchen, which means she's probably cooking. I'll try the cure, and if it
works it may distract her enough to keep her from making me try it.*
``I'm gonna take a bath.''
``Un.''
I step into the laundry room, make sure to set out the sign, and drop
the clean set of clothes in a pile. I strip down, pull the bottle from my
pocket and enter the bathroom. I wash, rinse, then stare into the bucket for a
moment before re-filling it with warm water, not quite hot enough to trigger
the change.
I uncork the bottle, waft a smell of it back to my nose. *I learned
that the hard way* I'd snorted in a big lungful of ammonia in chemistry
class. I don't recognise the smell, but the strongest parts are ginseng and
licorice, overlaid by either cassia or cinnamon.
*Really hope it's not cassia*
I'd never admit it, but cassia gives me really nasty headaches. I carefully
pour a quarter of the bottle into the bucket. The pale red-brown liquid
diffuses quickly, giving off no fumes and not making the water bubble. I swish
it about in the bucket, then remember to recork the bottle and put it out of
the way. I sit back down on the stool and pick up the bucket, steeling myself
for the dissapointment before dumping it over my head.
>Thump<
I look up from the floor, totally confused about what knocked me off
the stool into a pair of very familiar grey eyes. I stand, knowing my eyes are
still sapphire blue, grab a towel and start drying off. ``You should check to
make sure that cold water doesn't turn you into a girl. I'm almost positive
that you're cured, Ranma. If you're not, tell me.''
I hear the water run as I finish drying off, grab the bottle and walk
to the door. The water splashes as I slide the door open, and I turn to see
what I had expected, feared. I slide the door closed behind me, put on the
clean set of clothes and stuff the bottle into my pocket before transfering the
rest of my stuff over.
I walk down to the kitchen. ``Akane,'' my voice cracks in the middle
of her name, ``I bought a sorta cure today. I . . . There's two of me. He's
still upstairs, the other me, I think. I'm goin' to talk to Obaba, 'cause the
guy I bought it from said it was a Nyuchezuu potion.'' Akane gapes at me,
stunned, ``The stuff on the stove is burning.'' she eeps and turns back to her
cooking. The situation bears down on me a little harder, and I bound away over
the rooftops.
``Obaba!'' I call from outside the door, Nekohanten being closed
between lunch and dinner. *Being polite can't hurt, and `crone' is better than
`old troll'*
``Nanja, Mukudono?''
``I need to talk to you 'bout something.''
``Come in.'' I push the door open, entering quietly. The chairs are
down, so I sit down, wait while she does the same. ``What do you want to talk
about, Mukudono?''
``What is formula 122 nullifier?''
``What?'' I get up, snag a pen from the counter, and draw the
characters on a napkin. After a moment she recognizes them.
``How did you find out about that?''
``Bought a bottle of it from this peddler.''
``It's very dangerous. It was developed about a thousand years ago as
a method of either quickly increasing the population, or keeping techniques
from getting lost.
``When the cursed springs were first discovered they were immeadiately
recognised as a powerful tool. Within a hundred years the Chouchuanshan
Niichuan mixes were developed. About twelve hundred years ago the great
scientist Xiantou realized that there was enough power even in the mixes to
copy a person, body and soul. Xiantou set up the project, using white mice and
instant brown mouse water for the experiments. The nullifiers were numbered
from the first formula that actually did anything, and a new major number was
used whenever a formula did something different. 122 was the first formula to
do what Xiantou wanted with a 99.9% survival rate amoung the mice. 112 worked,
but three out of every ten mice died.
``The problem with 122 was only discovered in human trials. After it
was noticed in humans, the mouse trials were redone, this time seperating out
the test mice from the controls. The test mice who were confined individually
died within two days. The mice confined with both `daughter' mice in one cage
generally lasted a week. The ones confined as they had been, in a cage with a
whole lot of other mice, survived. Mice kept as pets survived. With humans
the patterns weren't as clear, but after looking at them closely could be
seen. People without strong ties to others died. The others could be a
half-dozen friends, a lover, parents. Most of the time people with a lover
would have both `daughters' survive, and people who didn't would have both
die. Xiantou and her assistants interviewed all the survivors of the human
trials and the families, friends, and aquaintances of those who died. They
eventually came up with a set of guidelines that minimized the chances of 122
being used on someone who wouldn't survive it.
``I don't think you meet those criteria, and it won't really cure you,
but only make a male and female copy.''
``Too late.'' I fish the bottle out and show it to her. ``What kind
of symptoms can I expect?''
``I don't know. The secondary sources seem to indicate that people
just died, with no known cause. A lot of records were lost in the great fire
five hundred years ago, along with the formulae for nullifiers 74 and 240. 74
would do what you wanted, cancel out the curse, and 240 was a much-improved
form of 122, without the side-effects.
``About two hundred years ago one of my friend's lover used 122. Both
`daughters' came through fine, but I didn't see any of them for about a week
after the split, and both `daughters' were very clingy for quite a while
afterwards.
``If you have a friend you can go cling to, do it. I've invested too
much time in you to risk your life, daughter.''
``I'm not going to marry Shanpoo, not even like this.''
``I know better than to even try that. I was really angry with her
when I heard that she had given someone the kiss of death and run off after
them; when I found out about the curse I was even more angry, because I could
tell she had no chance of catching you.
``You have the most potential of anyone I've seen in decades and I
wanted you very badly because of that.'' She looks at me, probably expecting
revulsion, ``But I couldn't adopt you as my daughter until Shanpoo relinquished
her claims on you. She did tell me that if you were ever incurably stuck I
could have you.''
``I think this qualifies.'' *This hasn't hit nearly as hard as the
last time I was stuck, which was easier than the time she used the cat's tounge
point on me*
``Shanpoo is far too straight and too proud for her own good. If she
wasn't so straight, though, I'd have to make one last attempt to catch you for
her. She just doesn't appreciate the female form, however. The way things are
I'd suggest you talk to Ukyou, for she doesn't strike me as being homophobic,
her family isn't around to interfere, and she is quite firmly stuck on you.
Akane might also help you, but she strikes me as being terrified of intimacy,
and her family are so firmly heterocentric that you wouldn't have much of a
chance.
``It's your call, of course, but if you want come back here after
you've a decent link to someone and I'll continue teaching you, OK, daughter?''
``Un.'' She leans over and kisses me on my forehead. I'm shocked by
the warm, cared-for, feeling it generates; a far cry from the revulsion that it
would have caused earlier.
``Thank you.'' She pats my hand. I bow slightly more than I would to
one of my teachers from school, then leave, walking almost aimlessly.
I notice that I've wandered to a library, and enter on a whim. After
looking about for a few moments I pull an old volume from the shelf, noting
that it was published about the turn of the century. The story draws me in, a
fairly simple girls-school romance, the protagonist's crush on one of her
class-mates. I memorize the page number, then set out looking for what it made
me think of. *This is really pitiful. I can't even
_think_ the word.*
I give up on looking through the shelves and approach the terminal with
trepidation. I chose a subject search and type the word in. I write down the
call numbers quickly and blank the screen.
I stand in front of the shelf, wondering what is actually worth
reading. If it was martial arts I could read a couple pages and know if the
author knew what they were talking about when they wrote the book. *Sa tte,
what are those things called . . . * I read a few titles, then it comes to me.
*This is gonna be embarassing.* I get to my feet, walk to the front and
check out the fluff piece, then ask the female librarian,
``Do you know where I can find a . . lesbian-feminist bookstore?'' *I
managed to say the word without thinking it first.*
She notes the pause where I re-gathered my courage, and treats the
question as a perfectly normal one. *Which one would hope it should be.*
``Un, the nearest one is . . .'' and she gives me directions to four of them,
saying which one she thinks is best. I check to make sure that I wrote them
all down right.
``Thank you
_so_ much.'' I reach out and press her hand for
emphasis. *So bold!*
``You're welcome.'' She smiles at me, the wrinkles about her eyes
crinkling prettily. I smile back, flush, and run to the door, pausing to smile
back at her before exiting.
I look about for a moment before realizing where I'd wandered to;
choosing a fence going in the right direction I find my place in the novel and
walk a little bit slower than normal along the top of it. My peripheral vision
not being quite up to keeping me on the fence at a better pace. The fence
eventually curves away from where I want to go, so I mark my place with a
finger, drop to the ground and cross the street before going back to reading.
I get through another four chapters on the way to Utchan, and figure out the
technique for walking safely while reading.
``Hiya Utchan!'' I fold the book closed about my left hand; take a
seat across the grill from her.
*Courage* I reach across, supporting my
weight on my left hand as I stroke her left cheek with my knuckles. She smiles
at me, and I drop back onto my stool before attempting to hide my blush behind
my book.
``What didja come by for?''
I lower the book before replying, ``I need to talk to you after you've
closed for the evening.''
``Sure.'' She suddenly puts an okonomiyaki in front of me, and the
pause to memorize my page number is enough for me to recognize a pattern in the
sauce on my okonomiyaki. I turn the plate all the way around three times
before I manage to decifer it. -Ranma DaiSuki!-
``Do you always put things like this on my okonomiyaki?''
``Yes.''
*my, she must really have it bad*
*Why won't these tears stop!*
``First time I've noticed.'' To distract myself from my tears I take a
bite of the okonomiyaki, duck my chin and finish it quickly. *least the tears
stopped.*
``You OK?'' I realize that she's chased all five of her customers out
and flipped the sign.
``Not really. I picked up a `cure' while shopping today.
Unfortunately I didn't talk to anyone about it first, and it split me into two
almost identical uncursed copies. The other `me' is male.''
``Oh no.'' Her voice is really soft, almost reverent. She hugs me
tightly and I start crying again.
She sits down on the stool next to mine; I only notice because she lets
me go to do it, then gathers me into her lap. I snuggle into her arms, holding
her tightly as I soak the front of her shirt with my tears.
At last I gather my courage, look up into Ukyou's eyes, then stretch
myself upward to kiss her on the lips. She startles, then returns the kiss
with fierce passion, sliding her tounge between my unresisting lips, her hands
sliding up under my shirt, stroking my back as she holds me close.