Subject: [FFML] [Ranma][Lemon][VERY DARK] Kunophilia
From: "G.L. Sandborn" <sandborn@microlink.net>
Date: 7/23/1998, 6:18 PM
To: fanfic@fanfic.com

	Once a year I allow Uncle Fester to write something for
the ML.  Last year it was 'Nekophilia' - a sick little tale of
sex, perversion, and revenge.  This year, he's refined his
formula a bit.  'Kunophilia' is a story of sex, perversion, and
... well, more perversion.  (Gawd!  I hope he doesn't intend on
making this into a series.)
	The best way I could describe this is: Stephen King writes
a Lemon.


	Disclaimer:  This is a LEMON!  If you are under the age
of 18 (or squeamish) or actually like Uncle Fester, don't read it.
SCRAM!  Go read something by Jamie and Bridget, or even Kun-chan
(at least she writes classy lemons).
	This thing is also VERY DARK!  If you don't like dark-fics,
go read Kleppe or SKJAM or pull out a copy of Takahashi.  You'll
thank me later.


	[All right - all right!  I'll post the damn thing in a minute.
I've got to warn these people first.]  

	Sheeesh!  Let him write one story a year and he thinks he's a candidate for 
a literary prize of some sort.



	Oh, by the way, this thing is just a draft.  (A cold, nasty winter draft.)





					  Kunophilia
					by Uncle Fester


	Kodachi Kuno stretched like a cat as she awoke from her after-dinner nap.  
She relished these summer evenings when only she and her brother were home.  
It was so quiet.  It allowed her to dress and behave in whatever manner 
suited her.  As the minimum of both were her usual desire in the un-air 
conditioned Kuno estate during these warm August days, she languished in the 
sultry atmosphere of her room.
	She hadn't seen or heard from her father in over two weeks, convinced he'd 
taken off for Hawaii or some other Polynesian island during the summer break 
from his school duties.  It suited her that he was gone.  After all, he was 
always trying to get her into some disgusting grass skirt or other bit of 
island clothing.  She steadfastly refused, of course.  It suited her to 
decline.  It allowed her to maintain some control over her life.
	Since college, she'd allowed her life to drift.  She was in no hurry to 
find a husband or anyone else for that matter.  She simply had no such needs 
- especially since everything she desired was in her own home.
	After Ranma had finally married Akane, Kodachi demonstrated little use for 
other men.  None, it seemed, could match the excitement and adventure of her 
darling Ranma.  In spite of his adamant resistance, she could tell he was 
just playing a game - a game of hard to get.  She was even willing to resort 
to pursuing him - occasionally.  It was degrading, of course, but that 
degradation was what made the hunt more exciting.  In the end, there was 
little she wouldn't do to prove she was the best he'd ever see.  She even 
tried to seduce his female form - with strangely satisfying results for both 
parties.
	With a chuckle, she bounded out of her bed, her bare feet whispering across 
the thick pile Western carpeting.  As usual, she avoided wearing anything 
that would trap the late afternoon heat against her body.  It just wouldn't 
do for her to perspire like some common housewife.
	Padding over to her full-length mirror, she paused to admire her 21 year 
old body.  It was still quite trim and firm.  Her rigorous exercise regimen 
had seen to that.  With a smile, she noted that all the right parts had 
continued to grow as she matured.  She liked that.  Her ample charms now 
seemed even more desirable.  
	Giggling lightly, she swept her long, black hair around so that it draped 
itself over her shoulder and down the front of her body, concealing those 
parts that had driven ordinary men wild.  She left only a single snowy white 
breast exposed, it's tiny plum-colored nipple stiffening in the cooler air 
caused by the movement of her hair.  She giggled again and turned slightly 
sideways to further conceal her more personal regions from her reflection.  
She looked simply perfect, she thought.  Sexy, desirable, and fully mature.
	A quick glance at her 'Hello Kitty' clock on the wall told her it was a 
little after eight.  The servants had long since departed for the evening.  
More importantly, her brother would be in the exercise room working out.  A 
smile creased her pretty face as an idea came to her.  It was a deliciously 
wicked idea, one that was worthy of her genius.
	It took her only a few moments of searching to find her old high school 
leotard - the one she wore so often in her rhythmic gymnastics competitions. 
 With the skillful use of a pair of scissors, she removed the bulky liners 
she was forced by the school's foolish modesty to wear.  Tonight, she would 
tolerate no such hindering bits of cloth.  Tonight, she would do something 
truly daring.
	With some struggle, she was able to wiggle into the tight, confining 
garment.  When she turned back to her mirror, the sight caused her to gasp 
with delight.  In her reflection, she saw an uncompromising beauty who's 
body appeared to have been painted in the garish colors of her school 
gymnastics uniform.  Every inch of her form snuggled into the thin spandex 
so that even her goose bumps showed through the almost transparent fabric.  
The erotic feeling of pressure in all the right places stoked the first 
flickers of her passion.  Closing her eyes and pressing lightly where her 
leotard cupped her sex brought a satisfying tingle of pleasure, one she 
carefully encouraged until her body flushed with excitement.  Yes, this was 
going to be a special night - a night to remember.
	Grabbing a towel on her way out, she relished the feel of the taut fabric 
of her leotard as it rubbed against the tender regions of her body - teasing 
the beginnings of a very satisfying orgasm that caused her to wobble 
slightly as she walked.  A few more paces and the first wave broke over her 
body causing her to pause and grab hold of a door frame for support as it 
washed past, taking the last of her reserve with it.
	Moments later, she'd recovered sufficiently to look for the exercise room.  
It was still a few doors away but even at this distance, she could hear the 
sounds of her brother, Tatewaki, practicing his silly kendo.  As she 
planned, he would be a witness to her 'workout' - perhaps more.  His 
reaction was what interested her.  His usual haughty demeanor could be 
cracked - if approached correctly.  If all went well, she would have a good 
reason to soak in the family's giant furo tonight.  Her body unconsciously 
shivered at the prospects.
	Outside the door to the exercise room, she paused to listen.  She could 
hear her brother's bare feet slapping against the polished wood floor as he 
jumped around doing whatever it was he usually did while trying to impress 
himself with his own prowess.  Kodachi smiled again as she thought of 
another 'prowess' she admired about her brother.
	For almost five years, the two had experienced a series of increasingly 
intimate interactions.  At first, they were nothing more exciting than 
occasional brushes between hands and sensitive parts of sibling anatomy.  
All appeared to be by accident but Kodachi knew better.  As time went on, 
those contacts became conscious caresses - skillfully applied to elicit the 
most favorable responses.  Only in the last year had they truly become 
lovers and only recently had each sought to explore their darkest fantasies 
with each other.
	After Ranma and Akane's wedding, the two Kunos had resorted to mutual 
relief of sexual tension and commiseration at the loss of hearts desires.  
Her mentally deficient but physically impressive brother proved a most 
energetic and satisfying lover. Oh sure, she had to endure his bad poetry, 
his selfish sexual urges and his calling out of 'Akane' or, worse yet, 'his 
pig-tailed goddess'.  One thing was certain.  By now, neither could lay 
claim to the title of 'virgin'.
	Her face darkened slightly as she recalled his reaction to the death of 
Ranma Saotome.  While Kodachi mourned, her brother celebrated both the act 
and the manner in which his greatest rival had died.  He crowed at how 
finally his Akane would realize what a degenerate Ranma was, having died 
almost in the arms of a Chinese gaijin.  Surely now she'd realize his own 
superiority as a mate and how, after an appropriate period of mourning, she 
would come willingly to his arms.  He had sneered as he described how he'd 
resist her, for a time, as punishment for rejecting him initially but would 
eventually allow her to beg for his attention.
  	Kodachi's expression went from dark to ill as she recalled how willing he 
was to share the only impressive part of his body with such a... commoner.
	Assuming the airs of unconcerned haughtiness, she turned the door knob and 
quietly opened the door.  What had happened in the past was of no concern 
tonight.  Akane or not, Kodachi would have her brother alone when it counted 
and it counted a lot right now.  
	As she caught sight of her brother's tight, muscular body, her concerns 
seemed to flush from her body.  She softly closed the door and leaned 
against it while watching him move across the floor, slashing and jabbing 
with his highly polished bokken at unseen enemies.  As usual, she thought, 
it appeared he was winning.
	Her gaze slid down his form, making sure to note every slippery-looking 
patch of skin and every curve or bulge.  His masterful appearance was enough 
to cause her pulse to quicken and her small nipples expand with 
anticipation.   The way his swordsman's jacket parted and sagged from his 
shoulders exposed his rippling chest muscles, glistening with sweat.  
Kodachi gasped slightly as her body continued its inevitable ignition, the 
muscles beneath the crotch of her leotard tightened causing the rough seam 
where she removed the lining to rub her most sensitive spot.  A tiny jolt 
sprang from deep inside and spread up her spine causing a slight shudder 
before she could regain control and resume her regal air of indifference.
  	If Tatewaki saw this occur, he didn't show it.  Instead, he continued to 
slash the air with his bokken as he rapidly advanced and retreated.
	"Brother, dear, do be careful with that thing.  I don't want my workout 
ruined by being struck."  Kodachi calmly threw her towel on a large workout 
mat in front of a series of wall mounted mirrors.
	Her brother only wrinkled his nose in response as he glided from one attack 
to another - each one crossing a large segment of the room.  Kodachi smiled 
slyly and stared her warm-up.
	Facing the mirrors and turning her back towards her brother, she bent at 
the waist and began to stretch her muscles in preparation for her work out.  
As her long hair caressed the mat, she could feel the spandex material 
stretching and conforming to her lower regions such that she was certain she 
could climax just warming up if she didn't quickly move on to the rest of 
her plan.
	Turning back around to face her brother, she spread her legs and slowly 
began to rotate the upper part of her body.  Only a slight hesitation in his 
strokes indicated he'd even noticed what she was doing... or wearing.
	"Is that the best you can do?" she taunted with a sneer.
	Tatewaki paused in mid-stroke and flashed an angry look his sister's way.  
"Judge not my kata but my combats.  In that I'm invincible."
	Kodachi rolled her eyes.  She'd heard it all before.  Time after time he'd 
talk up his potential but since high school, his success in kendo had waned. 
 So much so that he was now considered somewhat of a joke among the kendo 
community.  He rarely won in competition.  Of course, such never kept him 
from claiming his own superiority.  He losses were always due to his being 
injured in some manner or his opponents had cheated or the officials had 
conspired against him.  It was always someone else's fault.  He was never to 
blame for his failures.
	"Your skill with that stick is only slightly less impressive than your 
skills as a lover."  She could tell her taunts were having an effect.  His 
attacks became less frequent and his pauses between them longer.  "I 
wouldn't hold out for Akane, brother dear.  She's unlikely to accept you as 
second prize."
	Tatewaki spun around and glared at his sister.  "Then I shall have the 
red-headed one.  Her whole presence is so electrifying.  Just to hold her in 
my arms for a brief second is like sweet death."
	"Seems to me that every time you tried to hold her you almost *did* 
experience 'sweet death'."
	"She is bursting with healthy energy.  She cannot help her wild 
upbringing."  Tatewaki sneered at his sister and ripped off his jacket.  
"*I* am more than a man for my tree-borne kettle girl.  She will realize 
that now that Saotome is gone."
	Kodachi successfully covered her reaction at the sight of her brother's 
bare upper body.  It was true he gave every indication of being more of a 
man than Ranma.  Of course, she couldn't let her stupid brother have either 
the upper hand OR the last word.  "I couldn't help but notice the red-headed 
one has not been seen since my sweet darling Ranma's death."
	"She still fears his spirit."
	"Then why doesn't she take refuge in the great Tatewaki?"  Kodachi glided 
slowly up to her brother.  Lightly, she stoked a bulging pectoral muscle - 
making certain his manly nipple responded to her caress.
	"She will," he growled as Kodachi traced lower with her fingers.
	"But she hasn't."  Kodachi lightly turned and walked back over to her 
exercise mat.  Tatewaki followed.
	"I will find her."
	"If she wishes to be found."
	Their bodies were so close now each could feel the heat of the other.  
Kodachi smiled.  This was working out better than she expected.  He even 
seemed willing this evening.
	Slowly, Kodachi bent over, her shapely backside first contacting then 
caressing his manhood through his swordsman's pants.  Her smile grew and 
deepened as she pressed back against her brother until she felt his 
reaction.  He made no attempt to move.
	"You taunt me," he finally offered with an arrogant look.
	"Since when need I taunt you?"  Kodachi idly ran a hand up her naked thigh 
and pressed in at the apex of her legs.  A broad shudder marked her climax 
as her other hand sought out her spandex encased breast.  She wanted him -
now.
	Instead of taking her as she desired, Tatewaki abruptly stepped away and 
turned his back to her.  "A man of breeding does not indulge himself with 
his sister."
	Stunned, Kodachi stood up and faced her reticent brother.  "That never 
stopped you before."
	"I have since purified myself and vowed to walk a path of righteousness - 
for my pig-tailed goddess."  Tatewaki crossed his arms across his chest and 
bowed slightly like he was before a shrine.  "Or my lovely Akane Tendo - I 
can have both you know."
	"I doubt either would have you now."  Kodachi picked up a hoop and twirled 
it casually over her head.
	"The pig-tailed girl is just scared of Saotome's spirit and Akane Tendo is 
mourning as a young widow is entitled.  Both will return in time."  Tatewaki 
reached casually for his jacket.
	Kodachi dropped her hoop and glared at her brother.  "And what about me?"
	"You are soiled goods, my demented sister.  I have atoned for my earlier 
incestuous indiscretions.  I only wait now for the return my two loves."  He 
turned to leave.  A deep coconut sound accompanied a thrown club as it 
bounced off his head.  Slowly, with smoldering anger in his eyes, he turned 
to face his sister.
	"And what do they have that I don't?"  Kodachi thrust out her chest till 
the fabric of her leotard groaned.
	"They are pure and untouched."
	"Ha!  Akane has been ravaged by Saotome and your pig-tailed girl has more 
lovers than a prostitute."  Kodachi crossed her arms and glared at her 
brother.  She obviously didn't know if either of her statements were true 
but she was determined to hold the upper hand in this argument even if she 
had to bend the truth a bit.
	"Both of my goddesses are pure.  Akane would never submit to the vile 
advanced of that despicable Ranma Saotome."
	"Even in death he's a challenge to your manhood."
	"ENOUGH!"  Tatewaki's growl caused even Kodachi to flinch.  However, she 
wasn't about to give in to her brother on this issue.
	"Ranma Saotome is more of a man than you'll ever be, brother dear.  I 
wouldn't be surprised if he's had both of your loves - multiple times."  
Kodachi applauded herself for such a masterful put-down.  She was dancing on 
parts of her brother's ego she had never touched before.  It was having the 
type of reaction she hoped it would - she had his attention now.  All that 
remained was his arousal.  That never took much doing before.
	This time, however, he reacted differently.
	"How dare you --"
	"You're not even man enough for me anymore."  She turned again away and 
began to walk over to her towel.  She hoped he would take this opportunity 
to prove his manhood to her.
	Instead, Tatewaki vibrated with anger.  He'd been rejected before but this 
was more than a man in his position could take.  He quickly closed the 
distance between them, grabbed her by the wrist.  She didn't resist.  Now, 
she thought, he would take her like a man.  She couldn't have been more wrong.
	Instead, he spun her around and delivered a slap across her face hard 
enough to drive the young lady to the ground.  Her hair sprayed out like a 
fan as she twisted to the mat.  She came to rest on her side, supported by 
her hands - glaring her fury.  Her breasts heaved as she gasped at her 
brother's violent reaction.  The fact he simply turned away like a superior 
creature only caused her own rage to explode.
	"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed as she jumped on his back, wrapping her long 
legs around his waist and clawing at his face with her brightly painted 
finger nails.
	Tatewaki dropped to a knee and reached behind him to grab her hair.  With a 
handful of leverage, he rolled forward pinning her beneath him.  Her legs 
came free but her hands continued their assault.  Bloody scratches adorned 
his face and neck.  A nail ripping through the tender skin of his ear 
triggered a fearsome reaction.
	His elbow slammed hard into her midsection, driving the wind from her 
lungs.  He took advantage of her sudden pause to roll off her body.  As she 
attempted to grab again for his face, he used the back of his hand across 
her cheek to stun her into submission.
	"You act like some cheap concubine," he growled as he took both her 
delicate wrists in his large hands and began to drag her limp body towards 
the far wall.  "You need a lesson in who's master here."
	Kodachi tried to respond but her mouth tasted of blood and the room 
continued to spin.  She could only vaguely tell she was being dragged across 
the smooth wood floor of the exercise room.  She could feel herself being 
dropped hard as he released her wrists.  Dazed, she tried to roll over but 
her arms refused to obey.  She shook her head to try and clear her vision as 
something dug painfully into her wrists.  She looked at her hands and saw 
rope bound around her wrists - a very tight rope.
	"Tachi..." she tried to beg before her own sense of superiority regained 
possession.  "Release me!" she ordered.
	It was no use.  She heard her brother grunt his exertion and felt the ropes 
bite painfully into her wrists as she was jerked off the floor.  She tried 
to move her feet and gain some kind of leverage but could only kick out 
feebly as her body was hauled further and further aloft.  In seconds, her 
feet ceased to make any contact with the smooth surface of the floor.  The 
pain in her wrists intensified as her full weight was borne by the ropes.
	In a panicked voice, she tried to regain her lost dignity.  "Tachi you put 
me down this instant!"
	Her voice seemed to echo in her head.  The room continued to spin.  Her 
brother, however, paid no attention.  He was lost in his own mad world.
	"You call me inadequate.  You claim I'm less than your would-be lover, 
Ranma Saotome."  Tatewaki ripped off his trousers and stood clothed only in 
his bulging jockey shorts.  "Even the vile Nabiki Tendo called me
'Incapable'."
	"Tachi, you release me this instant!" Kodachi screamed as genuine panic 
overwhelmed her.  This was not what she bargained for.
	"You never complained of my inadequacies before.  You always claimed I was 
a man among men.  You swore I was the BEST!"  Tatewaki's voice was tinged 
with his own madness.  Kodachi shivered in fear.
	"You... you were always the best," she whined, her breath coming in fearful 
gasps.  She had gone too far this time.  Her brother's madness had always 
been lurking just below the surface.  Most of the time, it was fun to taunt 
and twist his ego enough to get close to that madness.  Such always led to a 
satisfactory, although physically rough, sexual experience.  Tonight, 
however, something released his demon within.  Tonight, she feared what he 
might actually do to her.
	"Fear not, my arrogant sibling."  Tatewaki cupped her throat firmly in his 
left hand as he leaned in close.  "I'm going to prove to you I'm the best 
there ever was."
	"What are you going to --" Her voice was suddenly cut off as her brother 
slipped his fingers over the collar of her leotard between the swells of her 
breasts.  She had but a moment to contemplate his intention when he ripped 
the skin-tight garment from her body.  The pain of all the elastic being 
pulled to their breaking points and digging into her tender flesh caused her 
to scream out in agony.  
	"TACHI!  NO!"
	Her brother said nothing as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.  The 
remnants of her leotard now dangled uselessly between her shapely legs.  Her 
flat stomach rippled and her breasts rolled as she gasped for breath.  Fear 
had caused her air to came in great, irregular gulps.  Fear that she was now 
beyond the point of no return.
	"Allow me, my lady," he said almost deferentially as he slid the remaining 
shred of leotard from her legs leaving her naked and defenseless.  Well, not 
totally defenseless.  As he discarded her useless garment, she lashed out 
with a vicious kick that did little else than to reignite his rage.
	"You need to learn who's master here, girl!"  He slapped her again, this 
time much harder.  Her body spun around until she faced the wall.
	A strong hand shoved her limp body against the cool wood facade.  Her 
breasts flattened painfully against it's unyielding surface.
	"Tachi...?" her cry came more as a plea than a question.
	She felt his strong hands spread the cheeks of her small, firm bottom.  
Before she could turn her head to see what he was doing, she felt something 
hard, warm, and familiar pressing against her anal entrance.
	"Don't you dare --"  Her voice choked into a gasp as she felt his manhood 
painfully force itself past the gates of her most private of privates.  As 
if that weren't enough, the fingers of his hand slid easily past her well 
lubricated petals and probed the slippery depths beyond.
	Kodachi tried to react but the combined pain of her wrists and searing pain 
of the point where they were joined together prevented her from feeling 
anything else.
	Her brother's assault continued for several inconclusive minutes.  She 
wasn't responding as he demanded and she wasn't achieving anything even 
close to sexual arousal.  Finally, he had enough.
	"Perhaps you require something more practical," he snarled as he pulled his 
organ from its tight sheath, blood from torn tissues dribbled down the 
inside of her legs.  Tatewaki casually wiped a slippery hand on her ass.
	"Yes," she gasped in hope he would release her.  All she ever wanted this 
evening was sex with her brother - nothing more.
	He spun her suspended body around and took hold of her legs - relieving the 
pressure on her arms by supporting her body against the wall with his.  She 
had but a moment to notice his desirable tool before it was put to work 
doing the job it was intended.  Her well-lubricated opening provided all he 
needed to plunge deeply into her reproductive regions without fanfare.  As 
their bodies collided at their slippery intersection, her tiny nub was 
painfully smashed against his pubic bone, causing her body to spasm with 
pre-orgasmic excitement.
	"Is this what you've been after?  My manhood?"  Tatewaki was only slightly 
back on the sane side now.  However, the more he talked the further he 
slipped back.  "You women always desire my manhood.  But you cannot handle 
my magnificence.  I'm good enough for a whole harem of women."
	Unfortunately, with the relief of Kodachi's wrists came the return of her 
haughtiness.  "You call that deep.  You pathetic little worm.  I've had my 
own fingers deeper than that," she gasped, her eyes wild with lust.
	Tatewaki slammed home his hips repeatedly until the wall thundered with 
each impact.  But Kodachi continued her breathless barrage of insults.
	"You've touched nothing I haven't already visited myself.  You call 
yourself a man?  You call your manhood manly?  It's smaller than a pencil."
	Her brother paused in mid-stroke and glared at her.  Without warning, he 
suddenly pulled out and released her legs.  She cried out as the ropes again 
bit painfully into her wrists when her body jerked taut - once again 
suspended by her arms.
	"This weapon," he gestured to his oversized erection, "has been desired by 
women all over Tokyo.  I've saved it for three women only: My beloved Akane, 
my red-headed goddess, and you.  Only you have rejected it openly."
	"You'll... you'll have to do better than that," Kodachi gasped as the pain 
in her arms became intolerable.  "Get me down and we'll see if it's big 
enough."
	Tatewaki shook his head.  "I've a better idea, sister dearest."
	Kodachi, a red haze beginning to cloud her vision, could only vaguely make 
out what he was up to.  The introduction of something cold and hard against 
her opening helped clear her vision.
	"I am Japan's master swordsman - in every way."  Tatewaki slowly dropped to 
one knee before the startled Kodachi.  "If I cannot pleasure you with my 
personal sword of flesh, I'll have to finish you with my sword of honor."
	Before Kodachi could say anything, she felt the smooth surface of the 
bokken as he slid enticingly across her most sensitive spot and into her 
vagina.  He pushed firmly until he met with an obstruction - the opening to 
her uterus.  Suddenly, to Kodachi, the ropes didn't hurt as much.
	"Yessssssss," she hissed as the first sparks of arousal began to radiate 
out from her pelvic region.  Instinctively, her hips began to spasm back and 
forth as she tried to ride the bokken's tip like a massive penis.
	"Stroke me," she pleaded.  Her brother was only too glad to accommodate 
her.  Slowly, he withdrew the weapon before plunging it back into her body.  
Kodachi grinned broadly.  This was better than what she had originally 
planned for this evening - even if it would leave some scars on her wrists.  
No matter, she thought, she'd get her revenge on him tomorrow.  For now, she 
wanted only to feel the full effects of her brother's wooden sword.
	"Faster you fool."  Kodachi head rolled forward and her wild-looking eyes 
glared at her brother.  "Can't you go any faster?"
	Tatewaki paused.  A slow smile spread across his handsome face as a cruel 
chuckle escaped his lips.  She could tell he was about to engage his 
multiple strike technique.  Happily, she rolled her head back against the 
wall and waited.
	With a low growl, Tatewaki Kuno began to stroke his weapon into his 
sister's vagina.  Each time he withdrew, he made special care to drag it's 
surface across her engorged nub.
	As his hands increased speed, he was urged on by the condescending voice of 
his sister.  "Faster, you fool.  FASTER!"
	His hands became a blur as he stabbed repeatedly into his sister's young 
torso.  Her body spasmed with every impact.  The tip of his weapon first 
parted then penetrated her uterine opening.  His cry of attack was quickly 
matched by her scream of pleasure and pain - both rose in volume until it 
echoed through the Kuno mansion.

	A lone, blood-chilling scream cut through the quiet Nerima neighborhood 
like a katana.

	It was after midnight when Chief Detective Okamoto arrived at the crime 
scene.  The quiet night for the local head of the homicide division had been 
broken by a flurry of phone calls from concerned neighbors about hearing a 
strange noise from the Kuno residence.  Some even added that it was even 
stranger than they were used to.
	Detective Okamoto worked his way past the ambulances, police cars, curious 
neighbors, and police officers that made up a typical crime scene.  It was 
the same thing he'd seen for 15 years.  Until recently, he didn't think he 
could be surprised by anything he saw.
	"What have we got?" he asked a fellow detective inside the mansion.  
	The younger police officer scratched his head and looked at his notes.  
"Two young people, one male approximately 22 years of age and the other 
female probably 21."  He paused as ambulance workers wheeled a gurney past 
the two detectives.  Strapped firmly to its cushions was the still twitching 
form of Tatewaki Kuno, covered in blood and sporting an erection the likes 
neither officer had ever seen.
	"The victim?"
	"No sir, the suspect."
	Chief Detective Okamoto scowled as the blood soaked Tatewaki was wheeled 
out the front door.  The young man looked like someone who'd lost a lot of 
blood - if all that covered him was his own.  Okamoto was so caught up in 
the sight of Tatewaki, he only heard bits and pieces of what his assistant 
was saying.  He just wasn't all that interested.  The younger detective 
would put everything in a report the Chief Detective would have to read 
anyway.  As was his usual habit, Okamoto lit a cigarette before examining 
the crime scene.  It helped him relax and concentrate on the little details 
that made a good detective.
	"So, where's the victim?"
	"This way, sir."  The younger detective gestured towards a door at the end 
of the hall.  As the two men walked purposefully towards the exercise room, 
Okamoto's eyes continued to scan the walls, furniture, and doors for any 
clues as to what happened.  It was obvious a struggle had taken place but it 
appeared to have been confined to the room they were heading to.
	As they got to the open doorway, the faint odors of burnt wood and singed 
flesh assaulted the Chief Detective's nostrils.  But what he saw caused him 
to jerk to an immediate halt.  All his years on the police force had not 
prepared him for the Kuno exercise room.
	Surrounded by crime photographers, crime lab technicians, a couple more 
ambulance attendants, and a gurney was the body of a beautiful young 
dark-haired lady suspended from the ceiling by her wrists.  Okamoto 
swallowed hard before taking an especially deep drag on his cigarette.
	Slowly, he made his way to the edge of a particularly large pool of blood 
that spread out in all directions from directly beneath the body.  He paused 
to examine the dead lady's beautiful body.  She was young, pretty, had big 
breasts, and long hair that would have been pulled back into a pony tail or 
something attractive.  There were some bruises about her face and neck.  Her 
hands had turned almost black from the pressure applied by the ropes - 
fairly common in hangings, he recalled.
	But what really caught his attention was the handle of a bokken that was 
still showing between her shapely but blood covered legs.  An occasional 
drop of blood would roll down the handle and silently drop into the dark red 
pool beneath her limp body.  
	Detective Okamoto moved to directly in front of the girl and looked at her 
more carefully.  He noticed her head was unusually erect for someone who'd 
died from being suspended by her wrists.  Closer examination confirmed that 
the tip of the bokken had penetrated all the way to her mouth.  He could 
just make out the wood tip as it pressed against the roof of her mouth - 
holding her jaw slightly open.  Her eyes were part-way open but rolled back 
so far into her head that they looked like two eerie white marbles, glassy 
and inhuman.
	"She was in pretty good shape, huh chief?" the younger detective said in a 
fit of forced humor.
	"Hai," Okamoto whispered as he blew a cloud of smoke towards the crime 
photographer who winced and took one last picture before retreating to some 
place where he could breathe clean air.
	"You boys about done?" the young detective asked the crime scene crew.  
They waved their acknowledgment and started packing.  The ambulance 
attendants moved in with bolt cutters to cut the woman down.
	"What do you want us to do about the bokken?" one asked as he lowered the 
body onto their gurney.
	"Leave it," Okamoto snorted.  "It'll give the boys in pathology something 
to talk about."
	The ambulance attendants shrugged and covered the late Kodachi Kuno with a 
sheet before rolling her body out of the room.
	"So, what do you think, Chief?"  The younger detective had obviously had 
better conditioning to these things.  Chief Detective Okamoto came from an 
older school where such things were so rare that they still had the ability 
to shock.
	"I think the guy went crazy and killed his sister."  Okamoto took one final 
drag on his cigarette before tossing the butt out an open window.  "I also 
think there's something going on I can't explain."
	"What's that, Chief?"
	"Last month it was that Saotome kid and some Chinese girl in South Nerima.  
Now this."  Okamoto pulled open his trench coat and shoved his hands deep 
into his pants pockets.  "Nerima used to be such a quiet district.  Oh, we 
had the usual martial arts nonsense but nothing like this.  I tell you 
something is going on."
	"Just a coincidence, sir," the younger detective said nonchalantly.  "I'm 
sure we've seen the last of these kinds of incidents.  I mean, how often can 
something like this happen?"
	"I don't know, kid.  I just don't know anymore."

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G.L. Sandborn  [aka Uncle Fester]

Home on the range at:   sandborn@microlink.net
                        sandborn@burnsmcd.com

All my stories can be found at: 
		 http://www.microlink.net/~sandborn/ 

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