Ranma 1/2: Ravenworld
By Presley H. Cannady and Lou Barnes
__________________________________
cannady@magiccarpet.com
This might become Lemon somewhere, probably a few one-night things.
Bu I guarantee a lot of kick-butt comedy.
Version II is a completely different rewrite from my original story,
written back in sixth grade! Here you go!
_Nerima Financial Report Weekly_ is a fictional publication. I
simply embellished the title from the poster I created for Stephan
Gagne's Pulp Fanfiction and used it as Nabiki's most favorite
periodical. May Quarintino make a great many more films
The brief cameo of Tom Clancy's characters is homage to him and
to Arthur Harvey Edwards' Ranma 1/2: Black Operations fanfic.
Please comment as soon as possible!
----------------------------------
Act I: Last Summer Home...
This story is credited to the fascinating creators of the Undocumented
Features. Considering that UF is no longer accepting fan submissions,
I have created a clone universe using new characters. And now--
Ravenworld!
Ravenworld is a crossover of Ranma 1/2, and two fan series started by
my friend and I: Kungfoolery and Raven's Dew. Together, they provide
one hell of a ride into Takahashi style comedy.
Welcome to the college years...
Technically, this story is unclassifiable in Ranma style fan-fics, or even
a sprawling universal fan-fic such as the Undocumented Features or
Otaku Rising.
NOTE: Though I classify this as timeless, in actuality, it should take place
in the 1996 school year (assuming Prez is sixteen or seventeen when entering
college). I know there is a consensus regarding the date beginning in the year
of the Nibunnoichi (hey, I kinda like that phrase!). However, I personally see
the story as timeless, and I'll keep that feeling for as long as I can...
The Cast--
Ranma 1/2 Members--
Ranma Saotome............himself
Akane Tendou.............herself
Ryouga Hibiki.............himself
Nabiki Tendou............herself
Kasumi Tendou............herself
Tatewaki Kunou...........himself
Genma Saotome............himself
Soun Tendou..............himself
Mousse...................himself
Shampoo..................herself
Ukyou Kuonji.............herself
Cologne..................herself
Happosai.................himself
...from Raven's Dew-
Hibiki Chosokabe.........herself
Kim Cho Hwang............himself
Soonji Kim Hwang.........herself
Xiaodan Jieshi...........himself
"Prez" Li Jiang Jackson..Presley H. Cannady II
(Prez Lee is members of Kungfoolery as well)
...from Kungfoolery-
Atsui Asamizu............herself
Kyoko Kitsune............herself
Jenna Matsuidara.........herself
Ono Takajima.............himself
Yumuo Takajima...........himself
Otomo Takajima...........himself
Kyoko Kitsune............herself
"Kain" Mikiyasu Ishida...himself
Featuring the new Ravenworld Cast-
Haruko Maeda
Keiko Arakawa
Akira Rokoshi as the Computer Whiz
Mike "Phatman" Parella as the Hentai Leader
Jason "Mack" Stevenson as Hentai Angel
Lou "Lone Rider" Barnes as Internet Junkie One
Nemesis as Internet Junkie Two
Tonfoolery Grand Master Andy Breitweiser as Internet Junkie Three
Travis Boroden as Dark Sarcasm
and Greg Perry as the Motivated Elephant
People who may or may not appear in the show...
Kodachi Kunou as The Black Raven
Principal Kunou
Dragon Back of "Raven's Dew"
Habib
Mako
and Tia Carrere as The Panther
Visual Effects by Psychodeli
Animation by the Group of Hentai Fan Boys
Inspired by the manga and story of Rumiko Takahashi
Music:
Play that Damn Kazoo! by the Pork Brothers
What the Hell is This?!? by Crying Seamen
Psycho Rage by Devil's Hand
Fly up in the Air by Yoko Kanno
Enter the Wu-Tang by the Wu-Tang Clan
Shaolin Temple Boxin' by Shiang-Tze of the Wu-Tang Clan
Shimmy by the Old Dirty Bastard
Stayin' Alive by the Bee Geez
Guest Director--Oliver Stone
Guest Writer--John Grisham
Special Effects by Image and Light Studios
Technical Support from Lieutenant General Thomas Riley Edwards
Special thanks to...
The Japanese Self Defense Force
All the people of Tirol
Chinco
Those people who place tags on mattresses
and MYSELF!!!
* * *
__________________________________________________________
Episode One________________________________Akane's Got It!
S p e c i a l T w o P a r t E p i s o d e !
P a r t I
First Hijiinks
__________________________________________________________
"Protoculture, to me, was a....HEY THIS ISN'T ROBOTECH!!!"
-The Last Protoculture addict through Furinkan.....
"And finally, my last rule is....hey! I don't know who you are,
but will you...HEY...DON'T...ARRGGGHHHH!!!"
-the severe beating of a College Dorm-Master
"ALOHA, EVERYONE!!!" Principal Kunou unexpectedly roared over the
microphone. Subsequently, about a third of the graduating seniors
were violently consumed by the folding chairs provided for the
ceremony, immediately jolted into painful participation. Clearing
his throat, the senior Kunou-in-middle-age-crisis continued on with
his vintage-Hawaiian-surf-lingo-laiden speech. "For four really
groovy years, you rad dudes surfed the big wave of secondary school.
I see that some of you even shaved your heads for this totally
awesome occasion!"
Four students in the front row growned. One shouted out in fury,
"I'll get you for this, old man!"
Principal Kunou ignored him an the ceremonies went on. Finally,
the school board association began to hand-out diplomas. Murmurs
of excitement rippled through the crowd. Furinkan High's clock
tower began to dim in the setting western sun.
Near the rear of the alphebetically-arranged senior's section,
Akane Tendou found herself conveniently next to Ranma Saotome.
Several students that would have separated them normally had called
in sick, and the youngest Tendou daughter wondered if students (whose
seats were labeled A. Subashi, M. Suzuki, M. Tanuma, L. Tanaka, R.
Takahashi, I. Takaya and I. Tsubasa were playing a cruel joke on her.
Occassionally, Akane would glance around if she could spot them,
confident they'd show up in time to receive their diplomas.
Ranma had his graduation robe tailored into a typical Chinese
sleeveless tunic, and currently placed his hat over his face, snoring
loudly throughout the ceremony. Several Furinken students stared at
him in bewilderment as Akane's anger began to surmount. Finally, she
nudged at him slightly; but to no avail. Sighing heavily, she nudged
him with a bit more force, but she was rewarded with only a brief snort
and chuckle. Finally, she nonchalantly produced a bottle of mildly
cool water.
The rest is pretty much history.
Ran-chan immediately hurtled upward into the air, screaming bloody
murder before he/she plummeted back towards the surface; crashing
directly onto the seat of his chair as it collapsed on him in Little
Takahashi Devil of Pain Pose #48 (reversed). Akane giggled to herself
as the ceremonies continued.
* * *
_______
Far off, to the south-west, the reception for an equally large
graduating student body was held. Alumni, faculty, school-board members,
parents, family, and friends were all mingling in Nokomo-ku's namesake
highschool: Togashi Nokomo Secondary School.
One of the alumni, Ono Takajima, was mingling more than most.
Surrounded by literally herds of beautiful young post-senior females,
the only disdainful glares he illicited were from his younger brother,
Yumuo, and...well, that was about it. Everyone (save for the notable
exception) loved Ono. He was on invite by the forty-year old principal--
Ms. Noriko Hanashuika (whose sex-drive had trippled since the older
Takajima enrolled as a junior three years ago). In fact, Ono was
the youngest alumni present.
"Lucky, perverted dog," Yumuo grumbled. He stood on the opposite
side of the reception hall from his brother, only "Kain" Mikiyasu Ishida
providing any measure of company. From day one, their father, the
great Otomo Takajima, had always favored the "goody-two-shoe" first-
born, while almost negligently disregarding his younger son. Even
when he posed the edict that neither boy would date before they beat
him in near-mortal combat, he really only applied the rule to Yumuo--
whose horomones had been on a rampage since age seven. Ono, on the
other hand--despite his pheromonic and irresistable charisma, seemed
to instinctively abide by the rule, no matter how much leeway Otomo
gave the older child. "And you know he can kick dad's ass from here
to Nekoron in five seconds without a second thought. I think he
likes having girls crawl all over him and-"
"Your one to talk, fantasy-boy," someone spoke up from behind him.
"OH DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN!" Yumuo jumped into Kain's arms all of a
sudden. With genuine fear, he pleaded. "PLEASE DON'T LET IT TAKE MY
SOUL!!!!"
"Hardy, har, har..." Atsui let the comment slide peacefully enough.
Kain disgustedly dropped the nervous-wreck from his arms. Yumuo
somehow revived himself and his mood turned a lovely shade of vengeful
evil.
"Don't ever sneak up on me like that again."
"Afraid you'll wet your pants, monkey-boy?" Atsui taunted. Unlike
another precarious couples mixed-emotional relationship, Atsui and
Yumuos' hinged on their absolute distaste for each other. In fact,
the closest the two had ever been was during one of Yumuo's many post-
female-deprivation horomone jaunts (usually brought on by weeks of being
forced to page through old back issues of the American Sports Illustrated
Swimsuit edition--a punishment his father had thought up to satisfy his
own sick infatuation with human suffering). "I thought you'd've least learn
to hold it by the time you hit...fourteen."
"Why aren't you grabbing all over Ono like the rest of the chicks?"
"Well, I can see why you aren't picking up any. In any case, who
says I don't?"
"We never see you hang around him," Kain interjected.
"So?"
"Why don't you fawn all over him with the rest of his girlfriends and
leave me the hell alone?" Yumuo sneered. "Or is there something you're
not---UMPHH!!"
A quick and nearly indetectable side kick connected with Monkey-
boy's chin hurtling him for a short distance before a wall conveniently
ended his flight.
"Maybe I have better things to do, like get ready for university!"
she shouted angrily, illiciting the attention of a few nearby students.
Yumuo stood up, mangled but still undaunted.
His incredibly stubborn and damaged mind managed to conceive a
thought direct it to voice. "Oh yeah? Maybe that's why you're still
single."
Atsui was fuming now, but she had exerted her phyiscal anger already.
Instead she bit back with increasing ferocity. "Oh yeah, dill-weed? You
haven't even picked out where you're going. Still can't find a college
where the dress-code mandates dental floss bikinis."
"Applicable for only those with a 6 and above on the Yumuo rating--" Kain
began to clarify before he took Yumuo's quick and motivated backfist to the
face.
"Shut-up, Frankenstein," Yumuo snarled before turning back to Atsui, "and
for your information, you tomboy from hell, I passed the entrance exams with
flying colors, and I'm off to Tokyo in the fall."
Atsui's face suddenly turned blood red, causing even Yumuo to begin to
cringe in dire fear...
Several wary bystanders immediately ducked for cover...
* * *
_______
<<Play that Damn Kazoo--Pork Brothers...>>
In a distant prefecture, Ukyou Kuonji was slaving away over her flat-
plate stove and a specialty _okonomiyaki_ order. The influx of
customers over summer vacation steadily increased as more and more of
the Nerima population was sampling the finest restaurants in the local
area.
She turned to a cup of water she had placed nearby as she swore
she had heard something go plop. Glancing at the glass; at first,
she could see nothing wrong with it; nothing had been tossed or dropped
in. Watching carefully, the surface of the water was disturbed again
on its own accord. Eventually, the water suffered even greater
disturbances, before the glass started shaking.
Vibrations.
The windows began to rattle; first softly, but gradually increasing to
a violently irritable level. Murmurs from her patrons suddenly turned
into near-panic mania.
Ukyou raced outside to see what the hell was going on. As soon as
she stepped onto the sidewalk, the earthquake halted, leaving only an
echo of what sounded like a scream clinging on the wind.
* * *
By the time Atsui had calm down, thirty people, including Yumuo and
Ono's mob squad, were blasted onto a nearby wall. It would later be
apparent that the battle aora Atsui generated before falling into
shock was enough to blow out the back half of Nokomo High.
"Oooohhhh...ouch..." Yumuo could only groan incoherently; Atsui's
scream rang like a bell in his head...
____________________________________
***********************************
***********************************
The AMDG Presents...
A production based on the popular manga by Rumiko Takahashi....
RANMA 1/2: Ravenworld....
Theme song:
(to be written)
***********************************
____________________________________
* * *
_______
<<BGM: Across a 110th Street--Bobby Womack>>
Queens, New York, was one of those towns where you had to have been
born in to truly appreciate.
"Cut looz' bro! Yo' gon' get yo' face slapped up 'n down this
motha-lovin' st'eet if you ain't get you ass toget!!" someone foreign
the this area of town might've considered it the desperate empty threat
of a frightened lost drunken gambler, the more substantial promise
of a common street mugger, or simply good home-fashion street slang for
"relax."
They didn't grow up around here. Most people on the corner of 145th
and 2nd would recognize it as the typical undecipherable jive of
Grandmaster Fu Man Foo' Sucka, Grandmaster of Afro Style Kungfu.
The man that stood before him, having grown a small mustache that
connected to the traditional Afro sideburns adorned past his temples,
bowed low. "Master, if a butterfly must learn to use its wings from
the day it bursts forth from the cocoon, how can I be sure that I am
ready to leave you?"
"Afro, you a'way di' jive propa," the Grandmaster pointed out.
"Propa, bro' ! Y'real slick, y'dig?"
"Master, My name is not Afro, and I do not understand you.
You refuse to use verbs, and when you do, you use them incorrectly.
Your language is...beyond even the comprehension--"
At that moment, another student with a smaller Afro and a dragon-
kung fu uniform stepped forward. "Yo, Prez. Chill out a sec. The
old man says that you've been away too long. Lost your roots in those
old Kung-fu flicks."
"Indeed, the moving picture instructs a great deal more than the
still, as a moving plow will reap what the still plow does not."
"Sho 'nuff!" the virtual puff of curly black hair they called
Master jumped up. "Coo' cat like yo' slice' plen'y se'ious ass wit'
dat shit!"
"Please master, refrain your language," the Afro adorned newly-
promoted master insisted, much to the displeasure of Dragon-Back.
"Relax, man," he patted Prez Lee on the back. "The Master's gotta
class now, and you've gone made arrangements to go back to Japan.
Still after Smartass?"
"He is out there," Afro Kung-fu and Shaft Martial Arts Master Prez
Jiang Lee Jackson said to himself. "He will leave for university this fall,
and I will find him, and track him down. To mock a school of prestige and
wisdom as this--"
He pointed to the hollowed out vacant old warehouse that had
probably seen better days before it became a dojo. "--is beyond
insolence and tolerance. One shall not fight unless driven to it, and
only then to defend. One shall not avenge unless driven to it, and
only to avenge. Thus, I am held by my code to do so..."
He gathered his pouch, already containing the tickets in which he
would take the traditional kung-fu traveling methods, a commercial
airline, coach of course, to Tokyo International Airport. New friends,
old friends, all enemies. Fortunately, he was selected by a host family
in Nerima, not to distant from Benkyo-ku. The Master called too him
one last time. "Coo' slide down E-Z Street, m'man!"
Prez Lee gathered his cloak, his gi, and his bag of weapons and
departed under the grey and drizzly Manhattan skyline...
Dragonback stared after him. "Homey's gonna need some help, 'g," he
turned to his Grandmaster.
"Go'on! Get los' " The Master ordered. "Watch 'is back, bro'.
Watch 'is back..."
* * *
_______
<<Fly Up In the Air--Macross Plus Soundtrack, Yoko Kanno
and the Israeli Philhamonic>>
"Come, brother!" Soonji Kim Hwang called to her brother. The _to'balk_
glimmered white in the South Korean sun as she raced along the
drenched mountain ranges of the peninsula. Leaping enormous heights
into the air and landing with the precision of a grasshopper, she
kept the lead as her younger brother followed along. <Not two far
now" she thought to herself. Both she and Kim Cho leaped off the next
cliff; the acceleration fall numbering amongst the most exhilarating
experiences of her life. She had often trained here, before her father
died, and now, she would teach Cho the magic of this place. Racing
across the narrow path that led up to the peak of the young, green
mountain, she shouted with ecstasy as upon arrival at her destination.
They dove head first into the water-fall fed Kwodan Lake. She
quickly side-snapped her way upright, carefully holding her breath and
jetting through the bottomless lake like a dolphin. Eventually, they
reached below the falls themselves, withstanding the cold blow of
several thousand cubic feet of water. Leaping out of the water with
the tenacity of the tigercat, both landed on weathered rocks
underneath the full force of the falls.
"Now!" she cried out, leaping toward her brother as rapidly as she
could. She engaged in a flying side-kick native to the Crazy-Typhoon
style of Taekwondo. It erupted into lightning fast kicks as she
closed in on her brother...
...who expected this opening attack, parrying and countering with
equally furious and expedient blocks and blows. Both he and Kim were
thrown off balance, only to take immediate place on the narrow,
weathered peaks of lower placed rocks.
The pattern continued for half-an-hour, before both finally
succumbed to fatigue and drifted off their respective ledges. They
easily caught the surface of the lake and swam to shore, soaked from a
long day of practice.
As the sun peaked from above the overcast, Soonji's soaked to'balk
shaped nicely over her figure, her furious-cardinal colored hair
racing with drops of water. Cho sneaked an innocent peak at the v-
point of her to'balk, and could almost catch a glimpse of her--
"Not bad, Little Brother," Kim sat up, closing the rift in her
uniform. "We will not need to work on your Ivan Block afterall."
"Sister?" Cho's interest changed.
"I've received an invitation to study at Tokyo University,
brother," Kim looked toward south-east. "If I'm correct, the others
should have graduated as well."
"Others?"
"Those from Nokomo, and Kitano-Cho. They've probably forgotten our
dishonor."
In truth, Cho was as in the dark as the "others" probably were.
At fifteen, it had been two years since he had last been to
Japan...yes! That was it.
"You really want to challenge him again?"
Kim shot Cho a dirty look. "What do you think? First, he tries
to take me on a date, then he slanders my style with his sharp, wretched,
twisted, Satanic tongue, and then he shames my name throughout Nokomo."
Cho just nodded in agreement. He really never countered anything
Kim said. After all, she was very wise...
Except when she got angry. He looked down at is lavender uniform
and suddenly realized his rather _urgent_ displeasure with being wet.
* * *
_______
Hibiki Chosokabe gazed up at the setting sun as the last full week of
summer vacation began. In five days, she would begin her first
semester at a new school, with new friends. She looked at the house
that they had so recently moved into, only three years ago. A girl
of a tender age of sixteen, learning to love, to lose, and to fight.
Not too far away was Yohichi Ginjun International Highschool, on
the opposite side of Nerima.
Chosokabe was the only heir to the Sonara School of Hit-and-Run
Martial Arts. Ever since her cousin had visited her last year, she
could never forget the words of Atsui...
"Don't you dare even think about going out with that little son of
a--" Was that it? She shook her head as thoughts ran through her mind
about Yumuo Takajima, trying to sift everything that Atsui had said,
searching for the profound phrase on the tip of her tongue. Failing
utterly, considering the possibility that any reference to Yumuo would
almost always end in inflagrant insultations, she turned to the table
resting on her patio She had received a two-fold letter last month
from Nokomo, forwarded by a Kyoko Kitsune on behalf of Atsui.
Dear Hibiki...>
I am writing this to tell you that we'll all be together next year in
the University. I hope it doesn't turn out to be anything like high-
school-
"Yeah right," Hibiki sighed. If anything was constant in Japan, it
was the schools. Weirdos, wackos, and strange folk lurked about, most
definitely. And with Americans coming in every year, HENTAI OTAKU
mind you, it was bound to be quite interesting.
Yumuo says high, but he's kind of grumbly. Atsui was right, you
might want to stay away from Mr. Hormones. He's still not allowed
to date. But I really wish Ono-my-love would finally defeat his
father, and he'll be...........Whoops, got a bit side-tracked there.
Anyway, Atsui found out that Yumuo is going to the University next
year, too. That was probably the supersonic boom you heard on
Graduation Day.
Hibiki looked to the south and shrugged. <Figures.>
Second, they found out they have the same schedule arrangements.
Atsui is recovering from a coma right now, and probably wishes she
could've sent this to you instead.
P.S. Say high to the gang for me...
Sincerely,
Kyoko for Atsui
* * *
_______
<<Stayin' Alive---the Bee Geez>>
"Damn it!" A plain-clothed young man by the name of Ryouga Hibiki finally
managed to find Tokyo only a month after leaving some rural provincial
high-school up north (or south, or east, or in Montana, etc). He
was surprised that the unnaturally colossal "lake" the US naval
serviceman in some city called California told him about turned out
to border Japan's coastline, too. His clothes were still salty when he
dragged himself out of what appeared to be some sort of bay. Although
his papers were marginally dry, safe in a warm lambskin he'd picked up
somewhere to the south--or north--in a little place called Iskendrun. Still,
he had yet to find the University itself, which would require at least
another month's work--optimistically. Now, in the middle of July, he found
himself wandering about a tarmac at Tokyo International Airport, lost
amongst the thousands of debarkees and embarkees flowing in and out of
the terminal via spectra of transportation methods. Not a good situation
for Ryouga to be in.
Nearby, another young fellow of similar character was finally
allowed to pass through into Japan a second time after being accosted again
by some Customs agents who recognized him from his first trip. Once again,
the oversightful Prez had neglected the fact that it was not wise to embark
into an airliner with seven hundred and fifty pounds of Japanese and Chinese
weaponry.
"Next time, have them CERTIFIED and sent ahead of time," an American customs
liaison at the metal detector hissed. "Have a nice trip, pal."
Prez harumphed as he stalked off. Almost immediately, he was overtaken
by the the massive vortex of a simultaneously departing and arriving mob.
He carefully blended in, using his own powerful aora to mask his presence.
It seemed successful until he physically, and somehow mentally, rammed into what
felt a lot like a steel bulkhead.
"Watch where you're going!" the whine let loose as Prez helped up
the bandanna-donning teenager before him. "Who are you anyway?"
"Prez Jiang Lee Jackson, I'm here to get to the University. And you?"
"Ryouga Hibiki, same thing. Say..uh..do you know where it is?"
Prez eyed him carefully, as if to ascertain whether this Ryouga was
being truthful in his lack of knowledge. "Uh...yes. Why are you at
the airport?"
"I'm on my way to there, too," Ryouga said tightlippedly. "You wouldn't
mind if I tag along with you, would you? I can repay you for the favor."
Prez sighed decided not to press the matter any further as he led his new
friend away from the Airport and into the city of Tokyo.
* * *
_______
She breathed in slowly as she glanced around the room. All of her
family, her father, her future-mother-in-law Nodoka, and Ranma / Ranko
along with Genma / Mr. Panda watched her intently.
Her chest rose and fell with each breath as she concentrated on
not two or three, but seven cinder bricks, stacked on eighteen blocks of
ice, and washed down in nice home-brew liquid oxygen, all neatly arranged
on small steel spacers. For extra resistence, five pieces of oak wood
also molecularly coated with an inductile, unmalleable, unbreakable
ceramic "liquid" and--for extra-measure--arranged across each other's
grain.
Focusing with almost deadly and cool intent, she erupted a loud
"KIIIAAAAIIIII!!!" as all of her energy released into one swift, decisive
blow. Like a hot knife through butter, the mountain of resistence gave
way under the fury of her strike, crumbling into dust, shards, and super-
cooled ice. The force of her technique quickly caused the chemically
bonded coating to superheat, which sublimed the liquid oxygen and produced
a fantastic explosion. As the shrapnel and smoke cleared, she retrieved
her hand; the demonstration left not even the smallest mark on her...index
fingernail.
A roar of applause erupted as her father, Soun Tendou embraced her
with streaming tears of joy.
"Bravo, Akane!" he shouted, nearly breaking his daughter's
spine in the process. "You make your father proud!!"
Another round of applause erupted as she glanced around the dojo
for what would probably be the last time for a long time. Moving to
from Nerima to the main city had been planned ever since her junior
year of high school. Ukyou had offered the second floor apartment of
her shop as a "dorm" for the influx of Furinkan college goers.
Ranko, careful to avoid his/her mother's watchful gaze, watched
impassively as Mr. Panda and Soun presented Akane's new Master
promotion and the Scroll of the Tendou Training Hall. Sighing, she
found herself snoring before soon--
---A quick nudge from Nabiki had jolted her awake. "Huh, what?
Tommy-boy break her hand yet?"
Everyone shot her a contemptuous look, and she could steadily hear
the growling of a now "kawaiikune tomboy"-mode Akane surmounting in his
head.
* * *
_______
"What the hell is that?" the duty watch officer demanded. "Where
is it coming from."
"Too small for a ballistic launch. Trajectory indicates a
possible origin from somewhere in or just outside of Tokyo."
The massive supercomputers of the "Crystal Palace" whirled,
calculating the origin point for a general origination fix. "Spy-Sat
Javelin is passing over Japan right now. They don't have any ballistic
launchers, do they?"
"It seems to be a rather straight launch..." the colonel shook his
head. "See if you can isolate the origin point."
Immediately, a satellite-generated view of Japan, was placed on the
screen, supplemented by information from the supercomputers cartographic
archives. It rapidly magnified in intervals of 10x with surprising
accuracy and detail...
"That's the Tokyo suburb of Nerima," the lieutenant at the console
reported. "My god, I've found the launch point."
The high-powered camera's had focused on a large hole in what
seemed to be a suburban house's roof. Inside, several people were
staring up into the sky, at least from what--
"What the hell," the colonel stared disbelievingly at the screen.
"Wha...is that a panda, lieutenant?"
"Affirmative, sir," the lieutenant answered quickly, unwilling to
continue the matter any further. "Sir, I'm reading a path on that
UFO. Its on a direct course for our satellite, and it seems to be
slowing down..."
"Hmm.." the Colonel said. "Get on the horn to the General. Send to
Washington--Langley might want a look at this. I want Skunk Works on Priority
line in two!"
"SIR!" another station tech shouted. "Contact! I repeat, contact!
The object has somehow attached itself to the satellite! Orbital
disruption imminent! Shit, how the hell did--"
"Camera!" the colonel cut him off sharply, the order exciting the
tech into action. Suddenly, the main view screen came to life. He
could see a large face, a red pig tail, and...
"Are those...*breasts,* lieutenant?"
"Affirmative," the lieutenant replied impassively. "Sir, this is
really disturbing."
"Can we get a confirmation? I want to know for damn sure. ARE THOSE
BREASTS!"
NORAD bustled as the most highly trained analysts in the military
went over the visual data. The cry came back. "Shit yeah, colonel!
The contact's tinies are spread all across the forward-aspect camera.
Estimate size at 36D!"
"Sir," the lieutenant at the duty console whispered to his colonel.
"This is really distracting. Permission to switch to telemetry data."
The colonel took one last look at the heavenly view before nodding
his head in authorization. The lieutenant shut off the camera and switched
to telemetry, immediately drawing catcalls and boos from the analysts and
watch officers on the lower decks.
"Quiet!" The colonel shouted, returning his gaze to the tech. The
lieutenent's expression suddenly turned into one of utter astonishment.
"Spy-Sat appears to be...mother of God! She's losing altitude! Its
falling back!"
"Project impact course!" the colonel demanded. Immediately the
screen unveiled the most probable route of reentry.
"Its heading back for Nerima, sir!"
"Can we shoot it down before it hits?"
"Someone's clinging onto it!" the lieutenant protested.
"Well, lieutenant," the colonel said matter-of-factedly. "Its not
going to do them much good, is it?"
"Sir," a commander at a tactical station reported. "We have no
aircraft in recoverable vicinity. The impact should destroy any
onboard data within three seconds of shut down."
"And what about the..girl?" the colonel inquired.
"If it were possible for a human being to surive _reentry,_ *sir*,
then she'll most likely be an extremely well-done street pizza in
fifteen seconds."
All of Crystal Palace stared wonderously as their screens depicted
the flaming form of the Ranko/satellite phoenix returning to Earth's
motherly gravity well.
* * *
_______
"You didn't hafta hit him that hard," Ukyou noted beside a fuming
Akane. Dr. Tofu was staring at the sky, waiting for his future
patient to come back to Earth.
"Five, four, three, two, one, zero!" Everyone jumped back as the
whine of Ranko / Ranma's approach grew louder. Suddenly, the
procession stage of the training hall was utterly destroyed as Ranko,
and Spy-Sat III Javelin came crashing down.
"Bother..." Nabiki said, quickly ducking for cover behind the
awe-struck and forntunately cushioning hulk of Mr. Panda.
From three miles away, many people looked up to see a small part of
Nerima disappear in a massive bright light, which quickly died down.
Some figured it to be nothing more than some sun glinting off of a
smooth object of some sort, an optical illusion.
The smoking remains of the Tendou Training Hall yielded the charred
and annoyed guests as Akane found herself with Ranko's head in her
lap. Ranko writhed with pain under the weight of the US intelligence
satellite, as Dr. Tofu approached her.
"Akane," he looked at the blue-haired fury. "You've really
outdone yourself this time. I'll have to develop a new procedure for
this kind of injury."
He roared into a vehemous bout of laughter as Kasumi and Nabiki
approached Akane and Ranko.
"I hope you are all right," Kasumi pursed her lips. Nabiki eyed her
skeptically.
"Oh yeah right, Kasumi. You're real quick, aren't you," then
turning to the rest of the guests. "Well aren't we going to get this
_thing_ off of her?"
As a few members of the group struggled to remove the car-like
structure off Ranko, Genma held up a sign toward Soun. "That, he
really had coming."
"Saotome," Soun said as he began to fall in shock.
* * *
_______
-----------------------
_______
* * *
<<Hot Fun in The Summertime>>
June quickly faded into July, and Master Instructor Akane Tendou
found herself in charge of teaching classes for at least the summer.
It wasn't a rewarding job in the sense Nabiki might take it, who had
given up martial arts at a young age to pursue her love in hedonism
and greed--motivation for her desire to break in big in the world of
big business. Akane was made of much more physical stuff--anyone could
recognize it--and she found her reward in the simplicity of passing on
what she learned to others.
Tonight, she was alone, to practice by herself.
* * *
<<...generic eerie music...>>
Ranma woke up with an incredible sinking feeling in his stomach.
Rising from the pad, he knew instinctively that some of the left
over cold take-out would take the dent out of his gut and put it
back in his appetite. Yawning and stretching without much
discretion, he slid the paper-wood barrier to his and his father's
room and made his way to the kitchen.
He was half-way there when he thought he heard something.
Faint, and from the side of the house facing the dojo. Still too
tired to care, it was 3 AM Tokyo Standard Time, he moved towards
the kitchen with his stomache leading him onward.
The second time the noise resounded through the corridor, he
could clearly identify it as someone's battlecry, a satisfactory-
recognition of a perfectly executed technique. He couldn't think
of any decent martial artist that would be awake at this time, except
for Ryouga and Akane. The former was probably halfway to the Shang-
ri-la by now, and the latter...
Ranma slinked forward to investigate. He detoured his way through
the small open-air passway and into the training hall. Some of the
fish in the small, central pond made known their displeasure with such
an unsolicited disturbance, but Ranma moved with expert stealth as
he closed on the main practice hall.
Sliding the door to the side gently, he looked around. There
was no movement for a few minutes, and except for some ominous blue-
glow or something like that, he saw nothing of any particular interest.
Turning around, he was about to walk away when...
It suddenly hit him that "ominous blue glowing things" were
usually out of the norm and generally warranted further investigation.
Returning softly to the door once again, he opened it up slightly more
than he had before. What he saw nearly frightened him half-to-death.
A shadowy figure, or a shadow itself, was dancing in the moonlight.
Most of the floor-to-ceiling doors were opened, and the only light was
that of the descending moon and the figure's aura. It seemed demonic,
so demonic that Ranma remained frozen for a moment. It was executing
beautiful advanced kempo kata, and then moving into freestyle shadow-
boxing against the thin air. Almost dance-like in motion, it seemed
utterly evil.
Ranma rubbed his eyes again, and it was gone.
After a few moments of gazing with fear-stricken eyes, he decided
it was simply a walking nightmare and headed back for bed--with a quick
visit to the refrigerator first.
* * *
_______
The next morning, Akane was wearing a rather unconservatively cut,
lacivitiously tight white blouse, similar to one of Nabiki's, and
ribalderously short denim shorts. Her cut-short hair was still slick
from her forenoon shower, and even Ranma found himself admirably gazing
at her well-defined curvaceousness before averting his eyes to
back to his breakfast. Nodoka had left a week ago, looking for her
husband and son, or so she said she was.
Mr. Panda--Genma Saotome--without provocation, slapped his son
in the back of the head with one of his wooden signs.
<Tell me again how the Devil-himself enjoyed a healthy work-out
in the dojo?>
Ranma responded with a curt grunt and a frying-pan to the head.
Nabiki didn't even so much as glance from her copy of _Tokyo-Nerima
Local Financial Report Weekly,_ and Kasumi was clearing the table.
Ranma sank back on his pillow and decided to give it another go.
"I'm telling you, it was real freaky," he began. "I wake up to
get some air-"
"Ranma?" Kasumi said cheerfully from the kitchen. "Next time
you feel like eating cold okonomiyaki, remember we do have a
microwave."
Ranma jerked, but quickly resolved to continue the story. "Anyway,
it was this girl, or something. Like some sort of shadow, dancing in
your training hall, Tendou-sensei."
A hissing sound of someone pouring relatively boiling water and a
shot of pain and anguished emitted from Ranma's side, as Genma remorphed
into his human form. "Really, boy. If an onni or a kami was running
rampid in Tendou's training hall, don't you think he would have summoned
good ole' Soun?"
"Yes. It only makes sense that a demon or spirit come to the head
of the household first, Ranma," Soun mentioned. "You were most likely
having some sort of a nightmare--probably nervous about going away to
school this fall, eh?"
Ranma glared at his father and Master Tendou. At the end
of the vacation term, he'd be heading off to college, close enough to
bunk home but far enough to give him a marginal sense of liberation.
Nabiki was the only current college attendee, obviously a business
major, although it was widely accepted that Kasumi would enter to
pre-med school in a year or two after completing her in-home credit
courses. Akane, Ranma, and many of the seniors from Furinken would
continue onto university. Neither had decided what career they would
like to pursue, although Akane had some interest in studying Eastern
History or Philosophical Arts. Ranma, although he was terminally
indecisive on his major, seemed destined major to Phys Ed., a perfect
course to perfecting his teaching skills for when he'd take on the
Anything-Goes martial arts training position.
"I'm telling you, I was awake. Hell, I thought it was a nightmare,
but when I got into the kitchen...well, I'm telling you I saw what I
saw."
Akane snickered a bit to herself, but loud enough for Ranma to
catch on. She stopped herself as soon as her fiance's eyes rested on her.
"What's so funny?"
"Er..," she stumbled at first, but quickly came up with a snappy
remark. "Mr. Braveheart-of-the-Decade here is scared of a little blue
ghost?"
"A martial artist demon, too," Genma gibingly added.
"I'm not afraid of nothin'! Just concerned!" Ranma protested.
"Some guy or chick just comes in and starts training at 3 AM with some
blue stuff leaking all around, and I personally get concerned!"
"I think you better stop eating cold okonomiyaki before bed, boy,"
Genma quipped. As the Tendou's made light of Ranma's disconcerted feelings,
the young kenpoist merely grumbled. He never noticed that Akane was
smiling only to herself.
"In anycase," Soun spoke up, "we have company stopping by today.
Kasumi, were you able to lay out that extra sleeping mat?"
"Yes, father," the hard-working lass replied from kitchen. "He can
sleep with Ranma and Saotome-sensei for now."
Soun nodded and then turned to the table, where he was met with
inquiring eyes. Taking the hint, he began to explain himself. "Well,
last month I signed us up to host an American foreign-exchange student
here. The tax-break is incredible incentive and we're monetarily
compensated. I also thought it would be an interesting experience
for all of you to experience a different culture."
"Some more than others," Ranma grumbled and quickly glanced at
Akane. Unfortunately, the youngest Tendou daughter caught on.
"Are you saying I'm sheltered?..." as Akane and Ranma began bickering
again, Nabiki and Genma continued to question Soun Tendou.
"Exactly who is our ward?" Genma asked.
"Actually, its Daddy's ward, just like you are," Nabiki clarified quietly.
"Well, Saotome," Soun thought hard. "I do know he's a martial
artist."
"Martial artist?" Ranma and Akane said at the same time.
"_He?_" Nabiki amended.
"From the United States, from their New York City."
"At leasts he's not a country-boy," Nabiki added. Ranma grumbled
some more.
"According to his dossier, he's about...er...seventeen."
"Too young," Nabiki commented.
"At least six-foot."
"Becoming steadily more interesting."
"Graduate from Brooklyn Technical High-school."
"Tech-weenie."
"Nabiki," Kasumi joined her family. "It isn't right to prejudge
people like that."
"Yeah right, sis," the middle sister replied impassively. "Go
on, Daddy."
"Well, that's it."
"No comments?"
"Just that he's always wanted to study at Tokyo University."
"An otaku," Nabiki summed up.
"What?!" Soun stared wide-eyed at his daughter.
"Oh, come on, Daddy," Nabiki answered. "There's a cult following
of our animation over in America, not unlike the one's we have here.
Some people say they actually speak in Japanese without understanding
a word of it."
"Really," Genma's interest sparked up.
"Nabiki," Akane cautioned. "I think you're really starting to
sum this guy up too early."
"Hey. If he comes in with a bag of dojinshi, don't tell me I didn't
warn you. They're not too bad--more amicable than some of the American
tourists we get around here. Many practice martial arts as well, and
have a great deal of technical knowledge."
"Maybe our exchange student would be willing to look at the plumbing
underneath the sink," Kasumi suggested. "I'm afraid the cabinet is
suffering from leakage again."
"Not that kind of technology, sis," Nabiki clarified. "Military
technology. You know, Tom Clancy, Dale Brown, Hideki Futo."
"Oh."
"Hold on a sec," Ranma spoke up, breaking from he and Akane's little
tee long enough to learn something about the new exchange student. "Before
we all get side-tracked, what's his name?"
"Uh...I...er," Soun stumbled.
"Thought so," Ranma frowned. "We don't even know his name."
"Why is that so important?" Akane mused, but no one answered her.
"I can't think of any good reason why they'd mute that bit of
information," Nabiki observed.
"The important thing," Soun cleared his throat and concluded, "is that
we'll all come out of this with a better understanding of America's culture.
I shouldn't have to say that I expect you too treat him with the utmost
respect."
Everyone replied in less-than-enthusiastic affirmation.
* * *
_______
<<Welcome to Sparefish--Yoko Kanno>>
Prez Li and Ryouga walked along side and talked with each other for most of the
long foot-journey. It so happened that they were both heading the same way--Prez
feeling no need to take public transporation and Ryouga with no real ability to
use public transportation effectively.
"You...you're staying with the Tendous?" Ryouga inquired.
"Yes...they're the host family that decided to except me."
"What luck! You know where they live?"
"Don't you know them?"
"Er...yes...but," Ryouga stumbled over his choice of words. "Its a
long story."
"Well, we have a bit of a walk ahead, so you might as well tell me."
"All right," as Ryouga commenced his lamenting tale, Prez recapped
the events that happened today. First, he learned that sharp knives
and sticks could get you arrested at a major municipal airport. Second,
he learned that his new friend lacked any sharp wits regarding direction
at all, and third...well, he didn't have a third lesson yet that involved
the word sharp, but resolved to apply it to one he learned as soon is
the opportunity made itself available.
"Ranma?" Prez stopped him. "Hmm...Ranma...Ranma...Ranma...er...Satini...
Salinger? No, of course not...Suzuki...Sateki...Sakaki....Saotome? SAOTOME!"
"Yeah," Ryouga replied. "You know him?"
"I think I do," Prez couldn't quiet finger it, but there was
something familiar about Ryouga as well. "Probably a coincidence or
something...never-mind. What about you...where were you before all of
this?"
"Well, I've been training across Japan and China for the past year,
taking those courses along the road..."
----------------------<Flashback--Last School Term>----------------------------
<I would pick up at least half a terms worth of work for the obvious reasons>
Ryouga Hibiki tredged into some sort of village in a northern (or
southern, or eastern, but definitely Japanese) prefecture. Small, suburban
and quaint, he quickly inquired the location of the nearest high school.
Allowing himself an extra two weeks before the turn of the semester, he
managed to make it to a certain international highschool.
"Well, young man, what can I do for you."
"Brought...tests...need...water....urrrgghhhnnn," he managed to toss
the office attendent his folder before collapsing to the ground. The
secretary regarded the fallen mobile student and then began to leaf through
his transcript. Two kids passing by leaned down to offer him a cup of water.
"Well, young man. How soon do you need the new schoolwork?"
"Immediately, ma'am," he replied weakly, but respect. "Also, how long
will it take me to get my test scores?"
"We'll run them to the Scantron for multiple choice, but essays and
other written material may take six to eight weeks. I see you have a
Tokyo--suburb Nerima--mailing address for your mail."
"Yes, my friend's family answer for me," What luck! Ryouga would arrive,
if his calculations were correct, in Tokyo within minutes of its arrival!
Assuming he left now.
"Thank you. Send the Scantrons with the scores, please?" He signed a
paper and quickly bolted out the door. The Secretary simply snorted and
returned to her work.
-------------------------<reality fade................>-----------------
"So what did you receive?"
"Huh?"
"On your test scores?"
"For the last semester?"
"No the first," Prez was growing agitated.
"Oh. I was wondering what you were talking about. Last semester's
just came in, and I haven't been to the Tendous since...er...what month
is it now."
"July," Prez said coolly.
"So that makes it nearly a month now."
"I see. Do you lose your way often."
"I DON'T get lost," Ryouga growled. Prez decided not to follow up on
that line.
"The answer to my question."
"What?"
"What did you get?"
"Last semesters or this one's."
"This...I mean the first semester."
"Well," Ryouga attempted to recall. "I think I scored highest in math,
equivalent to one of your A+. Language Arts and Human History I averaged
in. Phys Ed...well, if you go around on foot for all your life, they kinda
of count that."
"I see," Prez sighed. "What courses do you intend to study at the
University?"
"Math and Eastern History, probably Eastern Philosophy, too."
"I thought you said you weren't partial towards them?"
"No, I said I averaged in humanities."
"I see."
"Stop that," Ryouga mumbled
"Stop what?"
"Saying 'I see.'"
"Why?"
"Just stop."
"Very well, then," Prez complied chivalrously. "I will cease with the
acknowledgements. So, what do you know about the Tendous?"
"You seem to be very inquistive."
"I'd like to know if the people I will be patron unto will or will not
slit my throat in my sleep."
"They wouldn't do that."
"I believe you. Nonetheless, would you care to elaborate on them for me."
"They're a good family. One father, though. Three sisters: Nabiki, Kasumi,
and....Akane."
"Akane?"
"Yes," Ryouga almost drew a defensive expression.
"All right. You said someone was boarding with them?"
"A friend of Tendou-sensei, Genma Saotome," Ryouga explained.
"Have you known them long?"
"Since...junior high."
"You seem agitated on the subject."
"Saotome-sensei's son, Ranma, is a jerk," Ryouga replied lackadaisically.
"He's Akane-san's iinazuke."
"Her fiancee?"
"Yessir, although he never treats were right. Always arguing and bickering
with her, calling her names."
"How dreadful."
"I don't feel like talking about it," Ryouga replied.
"All right then. Look, we'll have to cross the street to get up on the
main highway. Are you--AUGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Ryouga saw the whole thing, and wondered exactly what the hell Prez was doing.
A car racing across the four-lane expressway suddenly tried to swerve away.
Prez was unavoidable at that point, and like a sixty-five mile-per-hour
speed-ball, he was hurtling up into the sky. Ryouga watched intently as
the exchange student trajectory hovered for a moment and arched back towards
the earth.
* * *
_______
The gates of the Tendou residence were open, with a tall and beautiful
maiden sweeping the walk and whistling a cheerful tune to herself.
Prez introduced himself, and she graciously accepted his overtures.
"I'm Kasumi," she smiled. "Father's been expecting you. I see you've
met Ryouga, eh?"
Ryouga grinned sheepishly as moved into the house. A young woman
with a jawlength haircut merely waved from her involving telephone
conversation. Prez looked around the forio before removing his shoes,
customarily, and then moved towards the porch. Soun Tendou stood up to
meet him.
"Well, hello there, young man," he said in his best English. Prez
bowed low and replied in Japanese.
"Good afternoon, Tendou-sensei. It is a pleasure to meet you and your
family at last."
"Your Japanese is excellent. Have you been here before?"
Prez bit back the gnawing feeling he had met these people before.
"Yes, but usually around Kobe and Osaka. This is my first extended
stay in Tokyo."
"I see," Soun regarded the young man. He guessed Prez was familiar with
the Kansai dialect as well, sort of a ruralish accent, and decided to
further inquire into Prez's former trips to Japan. It was always a pleasure
to meet a foreigner with such a stark interest in Japanese culture.
"So is that him?" Nabiki said. "What's with the uniform?"
"And the huge bamboo-strand bag?" Akane noted. They were both behind
the dining room doorpost, peering out towards the forio. Prez adorned a
pair of chinese kung-fu slippers, loose black pants, and a greyish Chinese
frog-button shirt with long sleeves. Of course, both Tendou sisters
notice the unusually large Afro.
"He's kinda...cute," Nabiki commented before returning to her Nerima
financial report. "For an Amerikajin, that is..."
Akane let the remark slide and continued to watch from a discreet
distance.
* * *
By the time Genma and Ranma Saotome arrived home, Prez was already
sitting with the Tendous, eating heartily from the smorgasbourg Kasumi
laid out. Prez bowed to the newcomers and sized them up mentally.
Saotome-sensei, as Tendou-sensei explained, had trained with Soun for
many years before going off to found a family and his own school. He and
his son left on a training trip around Asia before returning to the
Tendou training hall.
"Why, you must be Li-san, from America," Genma commented.
"Hey, buddy," Ranma said, greeting Prez unusually in the vernacular.
"Ranma Saotome, and this is my dad."
"Pleased to meet you," Prez acknowledged, somewhat disconcerted by
Ranma's almost American-like informality.
"Forgive my son-in-law's manners, Li-san," Tendou-sensei interjected.
"He's picked up some bad habits along the road."
Prez felt he recognized Ranma's name, but can't really remember
where he heard it last. Deciding to simply drop the thought here, he
began to inquire. "I've heard that you and your father engaged
in a sort of a training expedition a few years ago?"
Ranma grumbled. "Yeah. It was one hell of a trip, wasn't it
pops?"
Genma didn't reply--a mouthful of stir-fry beef as his excuse.
"And you've been to China as well, the Joketsuzoku subprovince?"
"Well, yeah," Ranma replied. "You've been there?"
"A few times. Last time I was on mainland China was a year
ago."
"So you've heard of Jusenkyo?"
"Sure, though I've never visited it before," Prez nodded. "Of course,
I remember reading about it in a rather *disconcerting* training
manual--HARDCORE KUNGFU. Only the most foolhardy of martial artists
who subscribe to such mindless drivel would ever consider training in
such a dangerous setting."
Nabiki and Akane snickered as Ranma gave his father a hateful
look. A tear of confusion scrolled down the back of Prez's afro.
"Anyway," Prez decided to change the subject, "I heard that
you and Akane-san were engaged to be-"
"To that tomboy?" Ranma closed his eyes sarcastically. "Its
just some stupid--RUGGFFFH!"
With lightning speed a hot water kettle struck Ranma in the
forehead, sending him reeling back across the back lawn and into
the Tendou's stone pool. Prez immediately arose and raced out onto
the porch to see what assistance he could be.
Of course, he was sent crashing down by an unexpected outburst.
"I'M NOT A TOMBOY, MORON!!!!" she shouted with enough ferocity
to shatter the eardrums of anyone nearby. Fortunately, Prez was
able to muffle his ears in time.
"WHO YOU CALLING A MORON, YOU KAWAIIKUNE, THICK-HEAD, VIOLENT,
TWIT!" the voice was higher, and nearly feminine. Prez thought he
simply heard wrong, considering the incredible temporary damaged
rendered upon his hearing.
"*I'm* a twit?!" Akane got up and leaped outside. Prez, Soun,
Genma, and the others quickly raced out to try and defuse the
situation.
"Say, I thought they were engaged," Prez emphatically asided to
Nabiki.
"They are. Nobody ever said they liked it."
Prez concentrated on the task at hand--making sure Ranma
was okay.
As he approached the pool, he slowed steadily and steadily
as his mouth began to drop and stumble over words. "Wawawawawawhat?"
Sitting up in the pool was a clearly soaked and irritated
red-haired young lady wearing Ranma's purple shirt and pants.
Prez looked around and decided that the one he was staring at
was indeed Ranma Saotome.
No doubt that some explanation would finally be warranted.
* * *
_______
"All right," The Honda minivan stopped short of a small warehouse
during the middle of July. "Let's go, people."
Mr. Matsudaira, Jenna's father, donned a New York Yankees hat and
a polo-shirt. A big sport's buff and powerful martial artist, he
had insisted on enrolling his youngest daughter into the Hank Aaron
Style of Martial Arts. Jenna Matsudaira had grown to love the sport,
one of Japan's MANY national past-times.
Stepping out of the vehicle, she straightened her purple jogging
shorts. Her long legs seemed to glitter in the setting sun. It
was late-evening, and dusk was approaching.
The warehouse was about five-stories tall, low-rent,
but still well-maintained. There was no present land-lord, and
most of the area was empty. Atsui Asamizu, Jenna's best friend,
unloaded out of the minivan several bulky sheets of...blueprints.
Jenna simply smiled as she looked over the-
A loud honk signalled Kaui Asamizu's minivan had finally arrived
as well. A group of noisy soon-to-be-college-freshmen tried to
jump out the door at once, bickering and arguing and fighting over who
got out first. One of them, wearing a red with white design bandana,
was thrown onto the ground immediately in front of the sliding door.
Four or five people immediately immediately piled out on top of him,
the poor soul trampled like a used doormat.
"Over her, guys! Check out this place!" Jenna called over to them.
One of the boys, an Ono Takajima, helped his brother off the pavement,
dragging him over to the Matsudaira's van.
"The landlord's renting it for practically peanuts. Of course,
we pay for service and maintenence, but that shouldn't be a problem,
right Atsui?"
Atsui displayed a frightening grin of anxiety as she snickered
to herself, making plans and assessing the buildings structural
attributes in her head. "Boy, oh boy. Am I gonna have fun...hehehe."
Yumuo, the younger Takajima, scratched his knoggin'. So what's
it got?"
"Running hot water, two places where we can put in bathrooms,
an empty place for the lounge, four bedrooms-"
"With beds?" Yumuo asked.
Jenna narrowed her eyes. "No."
"You sure paid peanuts for something all right," Yumuo muttered. Jenna
replied with decisive blow to the head with her titanium-alloy and
ceramic coated Kenny Griffith Jr. Allstar Slugger. Yumuo was once again
reintroduced to Mr. Pavement.
"As I was saying," Jenna replied. "Atsui and I got everything
planned. Give us, four hours and we'll have this place ready for us
to move into."
"Four bedrooms," Mr. Matsudaira said. "Isn't that a bit limited
for twelve kids."
"We'll keep them segregated, Dad," Jenna replied. "Three people to
a room, and we can build new rooms in the basement levels and every floor
is ours. Its only for the moment."
"Okay," Kaui said. "Let's go inside."
* * *
_______
Deputy Director (Operations) Bob Ritter helped his older collegue from
the Intelligence Directorate out of the elevator. Admiral James Greer
accepted the gesture as they disembarked on their destination
floor. Passing by numerous attaches of various duty-appointments,
including a blend of invisible field agents, they finally caught up to
Director of Central Intelligence "Judge" Moore as they entered the
office.
"Bob," James waved to the scruffy-haired "special assistant" to
the DDI sitting across the room on the opposite side of the
DCI's office. "I believe you know Jack. Jack, this is your new
operation's contact."
They shook each other's hand cursorily, but each new that each of
them held enmity for the other. John Emmet Ryan, former residente
of the United Kingdom and even more formerly, a low-rank analyst for
the Central Intelligence Agency, took his seat as the meeting began.
Outside, three C-5B's carrying special equipment related to this
briefing lifted off from Air Force Field, departing for the mysterious NORAD
command center underneath the Cheyenne Mountains.
"Welcome gentlemen," the DCI smiled, taking the seat at his desk.
"Let's get right to the point. We're filing this one underneath CRAZY-IVAN."
"That's a Soviet code," Ritter pointed out unhappily. The Eastern
Bloc was a speciality of his, and nothing made him more resolved in his
actions than to see the collapse of Communism there. But as the Iron
Curtain shifted into the playing field of politics and diplomacy, and out
of the field of paramilitarianism and intelligence operations, he felt the
sting that had come so often to those of his cloth, left in the cold of
peace, history clinging to them until their deaths.
"I know that, Bob," Arthur Moore answered. "However, though the Boss
thinks this is a good idea, that doesn't mean that the people, or even
the Oversight Committee will consider it. Let's face it; no one on the Hill
is going to buy any of this when we tell 'em. At least make the briefing
jacket look nice."
Greer leaned over to his pupil. "Jack, listen carefully," he whispered.
"Your first black-operation will probably be the last one you want to
face unprepared."
"...it's just too ridiculous," Ritter finished a comment as Jack intuned on
the procedings.
"What exactly is this, sir," Ryan requested. "I wasn't on the original
analyst team for this one."
"Sorry 'bout that, Jack," Moore crossed his palms. "On July 5th, we
witnessed what was apparently a ballistic launch from what we no as the
Nerima suburbanate of Tokyo."
A screen in the DCI's office lit up, as a supercomputer tied in from
the lower levels of the building generated and manipulated data into
a visual aspect. The new Nexus system employed by the CIA was
fascinating, if not altogether surprisingly divine. Originally slated for
use with the exception of the much more well funded National Security
Agency, the CIA ended up with a trial model and made the wise decision
to employ the system.
"It looks like an SS-19's old launch pattern," Greer noted. He had
witnessed several tests during his years as a submarine driver and
later as naval intelligence reviewing video recordings of the drivers'
test launches."
"That's funny, the guys up at NORAD telemetried it to be
either an SS-24, or maybe a new driver. Even got NSA boys thinking the
same thing."
"That's what you get when you use computers for every damned
thing in the building," Greer pointed out. His own office still held
an outdated Apple II that he no longer used. The Nexus system was
simply more efficient than either the Pentium or the new Macintosh
computers the American market employed. "The Japanese are obviously not
testing out any new weapons, Ryan."
"What we have here is a case of what we call MAO. Martial-Arts-Covert."
"What the..." Ryan caught himself. "I'm afraid I'm at a lost on that
policy."
"It started about thirty-seven years ago," Moore began. Basically, MAO
was designed in response to high-energy events resulting from actual
superhuman feats in Communist China. Several satellites mapping an
area named JJ-89, and to those who lived in the Neko Valleys of China,
the coordinates meant the accursed springs of Jusenkyo. Of course,
Langley did not necessarily take that for face value, at least not without
confirming it. By 1978, Langley had adopted three shape-changing
agents that had "accidently" visited JJ-89. Though the lab analysis proved
that it could be a controllable form of biological warfare, the CIA had
decided not to pursue JJ-89 any further, and it was closed in a file
aptly name COLD-HOT WATER. In fact, it was suspected that China was throwing
Olympic team members into JJ-89 to enhance certain attributes, particularly
the Collective Springs of the Four-Hundred Drowned Superatheletes.
For the first time in many years, that file had been reopened. Judge
Moore past the copies he had recently made to the gentlemen in front
of him.
"What the hell is this," Ryan finally asked.
"Magic," Ritter said deadpannedly. Ryan glared at the both of them.
"I'm going home."
As Ryan stood up to leave, completely removed from this episode
of the clear crackdown of the Central Intelligence Agency's mental
stablility, Greer and Ritter stared at the closing door.
"Well, that's the fifth one this week."
That brought on a small bout of laughter.. "Anyway, Ritter. You've
got a man on network, right?"
"The best, Arthur," Ritter turned up a lip. "By the way, how much
are we paying those psychics?
* * *
_______
While the Nokomo-group was scouting there new abandoned warehouse that
would serve as their residence, Hibiki Chosokabe recognized the importance of
of finding an off-campus residence. They lived too far in Nerima to
make commuting to classes day and night feasible. A small dorm-apartment
in the Student Quarters provided single apartments at "EXTREMELY INSANE
PRICES." Hibiki was unsure of which way to take that.
"Ooooohhhhh," several of the group moaned as they pulled up to the
budget complex they would be staying at. It was a mixture of 18th
century Japanese architecture and modern Western engineering that
reminded the Kitano-Cho suburbanites of their old hometown.
The gang-leader, apparently Hibiki Chosokabe, hopped out of the Toyota
RV, carrying several cases of luggage with her. Keiko, Akira, and
Mack followed her as Dark Sarcasm and his buds drove the van
around back.
"Leave them with that for a few days, and they'll build a Defense
Command Center inside," Mack looked worriedly as it drove off. "Oh
well. Let's move it."
It was a dark hall, the dormitory carried a funny, almost frightening
smell. Keiko wriggled her nose as she beckoned Hibiki to naturally
take the lead.
So she entered first, her khaki vest and untucked T-shirt dimmed
as the entered the wooden hall. Carefully, she walked down the eerie
corridor, friends in tow.
"WHY HELLO!!!" The shout was obviously unnecessary, sending
poor Mack flying in fright into the proctective lap of an apparently annoyed
Keiko. A few sound knocks on the head encouraged him to get off.
Hibiki, instinctively jumped back from the sound of the voice,
originating from a massive shadow that had turned a split second later
into...into a little old man?
"I am Hallmaster Tigake," the short old man bowed humbly. The
group acknowledged the gesture, and repeated. "Sarcasm told me you'd
be coming. I hope you like our humble abode; lowest rent around,
excluding luxuries and food bills."
It was a fact of University life. The dorms were adequate, but many
students purchased keepsakes off-campus, mainly for either ideological
or financial reasons. However, moving from Kobe made it too difficult
to secure an apartment in Chuo-ku. Southern Nerima would suit them just
fine, only a bus ride or a slightly longer than average walk away from
Tokyo University.
"I...I am...er...Hibiki," she stuttered infervantly. "Hibiki...Cho..
Chosokabe."
"Oh!" Tigake slapped his forehead. "Did I scare you again? Some of my
tenents complain about that. Nothing I can really help, its just that my
presence...well, it catches people off-guard."
<Oh, I can believe that> Hibiki nodded skeptically as the visions of
blue, erie clouds departed from sight. "I haven't seen the exact cost,
yet. Do you have a transcript?"
"Oh yes," Tigake smiled broadly. "Right here."
Thrusting a small piece of paper toward her, Hibiki removed it,
examining it carefully. Suddenly, her eyes blinked to the very size of
her face as she stared disbelievingly at the bill for a solid
minute. Tears streamed from her eyes as Mack, curious as ever, took a
look at the bill.
"Errkkk," he froze as well. Tigake stared at them quizzically before
taking back the transcript.
"Is something wrong?" he looked it over, and then laughed. "Oh.
Forgive me. There I go again. This is a fake transcript. I keep it around
for emergencies."
"Uh-huh, yeah right," Keiko looked impassively at her companions.
"Can we have the real one?"
"Right away," he pulled out a second bill. This time, it was not
shockingly expensive, but...
"100,000 yen bimonthly?!?"
"I covered us for the first semester," Nemesis pulled around into the
corridor. "No big deal. We just all get a part-time job and pitch in.
Afterall, if this was America, you'd be paying for the room, the food,
and the education."
Keiko growled incoherently as Sarcasm, Nemesis, Elephant and
Breitweiser unloaded there hardware. "Besides, we can cut down
if some of us stay in the van. The Junkies got dibs there. You guys
enjoy your nice, safe, warm beds, okay?" Sarcasm bellowed as he headed back
to the van.
* * *
_______
<Strategy, reaction, and observation--not brute strength>
Ranma winced as one swift sidekick actually gave him pause in his normal
Akane-taunting routine during her practice sessions. This usually entailed
volunteering as a sparring partner and flawlessly avoiding her clumsy
moves; probably taking in a book or finishing a reading project for class
the next day. It was the normal routine, day in and day out. For the past
two years, nothing had really changed. Each training session he participated
in was the same all throughout.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of them.
The fact was that the past few hadn't been either. Akane had somehow
been able to sneak in a quick technique every so often (aside from her usual
fury eruptions that resulted in a strong smack to the face when Ranma's
guard was down; often, Ranma found it more or less irritating to his pride
than painful). But she seemed...several times more focused than before. Not
to mention she wasn't piling in all her energy behind a single technique anymore.
As Ranma was pondering that very thought, he suddenly discovered that Akane
had cornered him towards the edge of the training hall. He didn't even see the
spin hook that caught his upper jaw.
"damn it!" he shouted, pulling himself to his feet. "Couldn't you see I was
distracted?"
"Sorry, Ranma," Akane said apologetically. Too apologetically, Ranma
thought. For that matter, Akane had been rather _cordial_ the past two weeks,
ever since she completed her Master's degree. In fact, he rarely ever heard
the struggling sounds of Akane pushing herself far beyond a healthy threshold;
although she gave no sign of being anymore lax in her training. "Are you okay?
I guess that one...er...slipped."
"Yeah, right. I thought this was light contact."
"I said it slipped," Akane still maintained her cool, but replied with
an increased firmness.
"Well, coming from you," Ranma chose his snide remark carefully, "I'm not
surprised."
Akane's answer was anything but expected, "I guess I need to hone that
up a bit. Thanks for working out with me a bit."
With that, she took a towel off a newly installed rack near the dojo's
exit, leaving a dumbfounded Ranma to confound himself with second-guessing and
conspiracy theories.
* * *
_______
End of Part I....
Authors' notes: Write to us at cannady@magiccarpet.com to tell
us what you think! THe new revised version will demonstrate a definite jump over
the original story, while retaining most of the elements from the previous
version of Ravenworld.
Next time, on Ravenworld:
Akane's crosses path with the spoiled businessman's daughter, whose power in
wealth is only equaled by her duplicitous fighting style. In a showdown that
will shake the earth, Akane will out and out surprise her peers and fiance
with a feat of fighting skill never seen before.
Don't Miss Part II of Episode One: Akane's Got It!---
Welcome Back, Junko!
cannady@magiccarpet.com