Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first
published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North
America by Viz Communications.

Homepage at:  http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Bay/9758

Commentary welcomed.  I'm now subscribed to the list, so, public
or private, whatever your cup of tea.  

Chapter 23 : Those Left Behind [3 of 3]

     She silently swore as she heard footsteps coming down the
hall, and saw Tarou's face break into a grin again.  Kasumi
appeared from around the corner, wiping her hands on a ragged
dishtowel.

     "Why, hello, Tarou," she greeted.  "What a surprise."
     
     "Yo," Tarou replied, raising his hand.  

     Nabiki took the break in their conversation to study Tarou a
bit; he looked rather haggard, truth be told, his posture
slightly slumped, his eyes weary.  His cocky smile seemed a bit
forced.

     Kasumi seemed to notice it as well.  "My, you look tired."
     
     Tarou nodded.  "Last few days have been real hectic."
     
     "How interesting," Kasumi cheerfully enthused.  "You look 
like you could use a good meal.  Why don't you stay for dinner?"

     Nabiki turned on her older sister, attempting to convey a
negative opinion of that idea using only her eyes.  The attempt
passed completely over Kasumi's head.

     The smell of teriyaki chicken cooking had to choose that
moment to drift down the hallway from kitchen, and the mild scent
of vegetables and spices.  

     Tarou sniffed the air, looked indecisive for a moment, then
slowly nodded.  "Okay."

     "Wonderful!" Kasumi spouted, sounding as if she really meant
it.  "Nabiki, why don't the two of you wait in the dining room?"

     Nabiki made a last attempt.  "Don't forget that Tofu's
coming for dinner as well, Kasumi.  Are we going to have enough
food for everyone?"

     "I didn't forget, Nabiki," Kasumi said, voice going soft.
"I couldn't forget that.  There will be enough."

     The brightness entered her voice again immediately after
that.  "I'm sure you two will have plenty to talk about.  I have
to get back to cooking now."

     With that, she turned and walked back down the hall, rubbing
the dishtowel between her hands.  

     Tarou waited until she turned the corner, then tilted his
head slightly and looked at Nabiki, an eyebrow raised.

     "Tell me," he asked conversationally, "just what kind of
drug is she on?"

     Against her expectations, Nabiki laughed.  "Ignorance, I
believe.  I've been told it's bliss."

     "I wouldn't know," Tarou deadpanned.  "Never felt the desire
to try it myself."     
     
     Resigned to his presence, Nabiki mentally shrugged and
decided she might as well make the best of it.  

     She turned and began to walk down the hallway.  "Come on.  
And promise me you won't break anything."

     Behind her, she heard Tarou chuckle softly.  "I don't make
promises that I'm not sure I can keep."

**********
     
     Tarou looked at Nabiki across the low dining room table, and
narrowed his eyes slightly, wishing he was able to read the 
middle Tendo daughter as easily as he did nearly anyone else. 

     He also wished he wasn't so damn tired, but that was the
result of flying over two thousand miles in a little more than a
day.  He had pushed himself hard, harder than he ever had before,
and even after turning back to human, his entire body ached, as
much as he tried not to show the effects.

     And he'd still been too late.  
     
     He had headed for Nerima from Jusenkyou with no clear plan
of action in mind, only the idea that the best thing he could
hope to do was be where Ranma and Cologne could not be; with
those they had hoped to protect by their absence.

     His main concern was for Akane, of course.  He'd never cared
a whit for Cologne's great-granddaughter or any of the other
fools that associated with Ranma, but Akane was one of the few
people who had ever treated him decently, despite how he'd
treated her when he'd first arrived.

     Now that he was thinking about it, he was less and less sure
of why he'd come at all.  He hadn't been forced this time; no 
twist of fate or accident had bound him to this path.  It had
been his choice.

     Like his choice to stand with Ranma against Galm, like his
choice to let the broken, beautiful creature under Jusendo know
his mind.  A simple choice.

     He buried his thoughts, suddenly realizing Nabiki was
staring at him.  "So," he said.  "Let's talk."

     "I've got nothing to say to you," Nabiki said, leaning her
elbow on the table and looking out into the backyard through the
open porch doors.  The fragrant scent of the early summer evening
was mingling with the cooking smells from the kitchen.  
     
     "How much?" Tarou asked with a sigh.
     
     Nabiki seemed to perk up instantly at the mention of
possible profit.  "What have you got?"

     Tarou made a show of searching his pockets.  Outside, he
heard a lone cicada begin to chirp, joined soon by others. 

     "Woefully little," he replied at last.  "I don't suppose you
take IOUs?"

     "Not from people who are likely to run off and never be seen
again," Nabiki said, rising up from the table.  "Try not to
destroy anything while I'm gone, would you?"

     Tarou didn't even deign to reply as Nabiki walked out of the
dining room.  He shifted his crossed legs slightly under the
table, and tapped his fingers against the wood, thinking again
about what he was going to do.  

     He had two choices, as he saw it.  He could get out of here,
forget the whole thing, go back to wandering and training by
himself.  Or he could keep up with this foolish plan that he'd
barely even thought out.

     He sighed.  Option one was out, as far as he could see; he
could not forget what had happened to him, not even if he had
wanted to.  He couldn't erase the memory of what was under
Jusendo from his mind, and he couldn't pretend that he could go
back to being as he had been before then.  

     So it looked like it was option two, then.  If Akane had
gone anywhere in China, it would be to Jusenkyou.  That much was
obvious.  But he needed more than that to go on; there was no
reason to walk into things utterly unprepared.

     The sound of footsteps made him raise his head, as Nabiki
walked back into the dining room, an open bag of crackers held in
one hand.  

     "You'll spoil your appetite for dinner," Tarou chided as she
sat back down.

     "I know my own appetites," Nabiki shot back, stuffing a few
crackers into her mouth and chewing.  After a moment, she held
out the bag to him.

     Tarou shrugged and snagged a cracker, realizing how hungry
he was.  He sat back, chewing leisurely.  "So what's the deal,
Nabiki?  Where's everyone gone?"

     Nabiki silently ate another cracker and looked at him
without any expression.  In the quiet lull of conversation, the
cicadas outside seemed particularly vehement in their chirping.

     "So who's that Tofu guy you mentioned to your sister?" he
asked abruptly, switching topics.

     "A dinner guest," Nabiki said.  "One we actually invited
rather than one who simply showed up unannounced."

     Tarou smirked.  "To my memory, I was invited as well.  So
you're the one who invited this Tofu guy, then?"

     Nabiki smirked back at him.  "Did I say that?"
     
     "Not in so many words," Tarou replied with a shrug.  "But I
doubt you'd show any concern about a guest unless you had some
personal interest in them."

     Nabiki shook her head.  "Doesn't matter whether I invited
him or not.  He's coming because of Kasumi."

     Tarou snapped his fingers.  "However, you've got something
to gain from all this, don't you?"

     The barest trace of a frown swept across Nabiki's face for a
moment.  "Maybe."

     "So, I would venture to say that you're interested in seeing
that this dinner goes well?" he queried, leaning across the table
and fixing Nabiki's gaze with his.

     Silence was enough reply for him.  "So let's talk, Nabiki.
Okay?"

     Nabiki looked away from him, the bag of crackers 
half-crumpled in her hand.  "I give you the short rundown, you
don't make trouble tonight?"

     "Deal," Tarou said.  He was fairly sure he knew more about
the major events of the situation than Nabiki did; he was mainly
interested in hearing about where Akane had gone.
     
     "Ranma disappeared about a week ago," Nabiki said, turning
her gaze back to him.  "Akane and some other people went to China 
to look for him."

     "What other people, and where in China?"
     
     Nabiki ticked off names on her fingers.  "Ranma's father,
Happosai, Ryoga and Shampoo."

     She nodded her head slightly at him.  "They went to 
Shampoo's village.  They think he's in the area of Jusenkyou.
That's all I really know."

     "Thanks," Tarou said grudgingly, dozens of other questions 
forming in his mind.  But Nabiki had a closemouthed look to her, 
as if she'd said all she was going to.  And what he knew was 
enough; probably at about the same time he'd been heading away 
from Jusenkyou, Akane and everyone else had been heading towards 
it.  

     He silently cursed that fact, despite that he could have had
no idea of the situation.  He needed to get back to China, and
fast, get Cologne and the others updated on the situation.  

     First of all, though, he needed to get a good meal into
himself, and at least a few hours sleep.  His thoughts were
jumbled; he was bone-tired, and was having trouble concentrating
on things.  He was in no condition to fly right now.  

     "Why did you want to talk to Akane, anyway?"
     
     Tarou lifted his slumped head and looked at Nabiki.  "I was
in the area, thought I'd say hello."

     "Uh-huh," Nabiki commented, the tone of her voice leaving it
clear that she didn't believe a word.  Tarou didn't care whether
she believed him or not, frankly.

     He turned his head away from Nabiki at the sound of soft
footsteps coming down the hall.  The cicadas outside were filling
the air with their chittering song; in the growing night, he 
could see the scattered lights of a few fireflies.

     A woman that he had never seen before stepped into the
dining room, dressed in an elegant blue kimono with an apron over
it.  She was tall, and though he would have guessed her to be
approaching middle age, still very beautiful.  Her eyes were sad,
though he could see she tried to disguise it.

     She passed her gaze over Tarou for a moment, then bowed
slightly.  "Kasumi said we had another guest.  I don't believe
we've met."

     "No," Tarou replied quietly.  "We haven't."
     
     "I'm Nodoka Saotome."
     
     Ranma's mother, he realized.  He'd been told about her when
Ranma had given his halting explanation of what had happened to
lead him to Jusenkyou.

     He saw Nabiki look up at Nodoka, and slowly grin.  "Mrs.
Saotome, this is..."

     "Tarou," he interrupted, suppressing a surge of anger.  
"You're Ranma's mother, right?"
     
     He saw the hidden pain behind her eyes rise to her face for
a moment, so sudden and deep that he felt himself regret his
words immediately.

     Then it went away, and the tall woman sat down at the table,
kneeling in her kimono.  "Yes, I am.  Are you a friend of my
son's?"

     Tarou considered for a second.  "I'd say an acquaintance at
best."

     "Oh," Nodoka said, as Nabiki rose up and made an exit from
the room, still smiling slightly as she went.

     Tarou studied Ranma's mother for a moment, the sadness in
her eyes, wondering just what she would do if he told her he knew
that her son was alive, and where he was.  

     But he couldn't do that, he realized.  That would have
defeated everything that Cologne had done.  She had taken Ranma
away because she believed that his mother and others were safer
apart from him.  Given what Tarou had seen happen to the younger
man, he agreed.  

     "I'm sorry he's gone," he finally said lamely, feeling
awkward and out of place, which he was not used to and did not
like.  He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, and 
listened to the cicadas outside.

     "I should get back to the kitchen," Nodoka said, rising up
and walking away.  "It was nice to meet you, Tarou."

     Tarou watched her go, then turned his gaze to the back yard,
listening to the night sounds and watching the dancing lights of
the fireflies as they winked on and off.

**********

     Nabiki glanced around the table.  She'd grabbed Tofu as soon
as he'd arrived and seated him across the table from her, making
sure there was a space next to him for Kasumi.  Tarou and her
father sat opposite each other at the narrower ends of the table, 
her father looking at Tarou with vague hostility; he had not been
particularly happy to see their unexpected guest once he'd gotten
out of the bath.

     Now, hopefully, the doctor would manage to keep himself calm
and collected.  He was currently talking to Tarou, who was
answering him in bored monosyllables, or occasionally, veiled
sarcasm.  Tofu didn't appear to notice, and was cheerfully
chattering away at the unenthusiastic martial artist as if they 
were old friends.

     Despite Tarou's promise to behave, she was still worried
about him screwing things up.  Mrs. Saotome coming had been 
unexpected, but not particularly worrying.  

     Tarou, on the other hand, was an unpredictable factor in
things.  He could easily be a disruption, and Nabiki wished she'd
managed to get rid of him before Kasumi had invited him to stay.
She also was vaguely suspicious of his motives for showing up;
nothing she could put her finger on, but a gut feeling that she
couldn't ignore.

     Nabiki sighed almost imperceptibly, and watched Tarou
carefully.  It would, at least, be a more interesting dinner than
she had planned.
     
**********

     Kasumi walked into the dining room behind Nodoka, carrying
the vegetables and the rice steamer on a tray.  She saw Tofu's
eyes focus on her as she entered, saw a faint grin trace across
his face.  

     "H... hello, Kasumi," he stuttered, voice wavering.  "What a
surprise."

     Kasumi looked away from him as she put the tray down on the
centre of the table.  She saw, to her apprehension, that Nodoka
had taken the seat next to Nabiki.

     "W... why don't you sit down, K... Kasumi..." Tofu said from
where he sat.  "There's room next to me."

     She glanced around at the other faces at the table.  Her
father looked expectant, vaguely pleased.  Nabiki was grinning
slightly.  Nodoka was looking at Tofu, expressionless.  Tarou
simply looked bored.

     Tofu was a guest.  You couldn't be rude to guests.  That
wasn't right.  She sat down beside Tofu, kneeling on the thin
cushion on the floor.  

     Her father glanced around the table.  "Well... in the
absence of so many, I suppose it is good to have a few guests for
dinner."

     Then he began to fill his bowl from the rice steamer, and
spear pieces of teriyaki chicken and stir-fried vegetables to put 
on his plate.  Around him, the other diners began to do the same.

     Kasumi filled her plate and bowl, and picked up her 
chopsticks.  From where she sat, she could see out into the
darkness of the outside through the open doors that led onto the
porch.  The fireflies were like fading stars.

     "So, Doctor Tofu," she heard her father say, his voice
seeming to come from down a long tunnel, heavy with darkness, to 
reach her ears.  "We haven't seen you in so long."

     "Well, you know what happens," Tofu chirped.  "Busy, busy,
lots of things to do, lots of things happening..."

     He rambled on for a few moments longer.  Tarou, who was the
closest person to Kasumi except for Tofu, was barely stopping
himself from laughing.

     Tofu caught her eye once, right before he stopped talking,
and winked, as if she were his secret conspirator.  She retreated
a bit further inside, feeling like an automation, a machine of 
flesh and blood and bone, eating and occasionally talking, but 
she was not truly here.

     Kasumi looked around the table.  Her father looked pleased,
happy.  Nabiki was grinning, showing her teeth.  Nodoka was
looking at Tofu.  Tarou still looked bored.

     Tarou had very good table manners for someone who spent so
much time alone, she observed.  Someone asked her a question; she
wasn't sure who.  

     "Oh my, yes."
     
     Her father looked at her.  "Well, yes... yes, the food is
very good."     

     She felt Tofu's hand touch her right outer thigh through her 
skirt.
     
     It was so sudden, she was forced to stifle a cry of
surprise.  That would have been rude, what a silly thing that
would have been to do.  Tofu was a guest.  You couldn't be rude 
to guests.

     That wasn't right at all.
     
     Her chopsticks clattered as they fell from her hands,
bouncing off the table.  She murmured an apology and picked them
up; Tofu's hand crept along her thigh like an insect, concealed
below the table from anyone else's sight.  

     Tarou said something that made Nabiki laugh.  She never knew
what it was.  Tofu's hand advanced, cold as ice even through the
skirt's dark brown fabric.  It brushed against the inner curve of
her thigh, like a caress of ice, like a spider.  It began to move 
higher up her leg, as Tofu's other hand used the chopsticks 
expertly, as his mouth opened and closed and opened and closed 
and talked.

     She felt like screaming.  She couldn't.  Tofu was a guest.

     You couldn't be rude to guests.     
     
     That wasn't right at all.
     
     His hand moved, fingers pushing against the stretched fabric
of the skirt, going slowly up and up her inner thigh.  

     "Hey doc, pass me the rice steamer."
     
     Tarou's voice sounded thin and far away, but she clung to it
like a rope, and felt Tofu's hand leave her thigh.  She saw him
pick up the heavy rice steamer in his left hand, the hand that 
had been touching her before, the powerful hand, fingers long and
strong.

     "I'm so happy to be eating here," he said, and she saw his
eyes for a moment, and she was sure that no one else saw the
blind, awful rage there, consuming as fire.  "At K... Kasumi's 
house!"
     
     Then he swung the rice steamer.  It made a clang as it
impacted with the side of Tarou's head.  Tofu giggled, and set it
down in front of the slightly dazed boy.  

     Tarou was dazed only for a moment.  He looked at Tofu, and
his eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits.  Father
was looking embarrassed; Nabiki had stopped grinning.

     "Tarou!" she barked.  "You promised."
     
     Tarou said something under his breath that Nabiki didn't
hear.  He began to fill his bowl in the rice steamer.  

     Tofu looked at Tarou intently.  "I'm sorry.  Did that hurt?"

     Tofu reached out as if to touch Tarou's shoulder, his arm
crossing Kasumi's field of vision.  

     Nabiki closed her eyes and muttered something under her
breath.  Kasumi couldn't tell whether it was a prayer or a swear
word.

     Tarou's hand snapped up, so fast Kasumi didn't even see it
move.  He grabbed Tofu's wrist as the doctor's fingers lingered a
few inches from his neck.

     "Doc," he said, in a very quiet voice that held a terrible
amount of menace in it.  "You put a hand on me and I'll break
your fingers.  Don't think I can't, and don't think I won't."

     And slowly, slowly he grinned.  "And don't think I wouldn't
like to."

     "Daddy," Nabiki said quietly, "is this any way to allow a
guest to be treated?"

     Soun stood up from the table, face dark with anger.  

     "Get out," he said to Tarou.
     
     Tarou let go of Tofu's wrist.  The doctor snatched his hand
back, eyes half-closed, still smiling slightly.  

     "What?" Tarou said.
     
     "You always make trouble for us," Soun growled.  "I must ask
you to leave my home."

     Tarou smacked his palm down onto the tabletop, so hard the
dishes rattled.  "What the hell is wrong with you people?"

     He gestured at Tofu, who was looking slightly confused by
everything.  "This guy started the damn thing.  Throw him out,
why don't you?"

     "He," Soun said slowly, "was an invited guest, not some
wanderer who happened to show up and take advantage of my eldest 
daughter's good nature."

     "I didn't take advantage of anybody," Tarou snapped, rising
up from the table as well, glaring fiercely at Soun.

     Kasumi looked around at the faces at the table.  Father
looked angry.  So did Nabiki, in a different way.  Nodoka looked
sad and confused.  Tarou looked angry too.  Tofu looked pleased,
but he hid it well.

     "I'll ask you once more to leave," Soun said, a bit too
loudly for Kasumi's taste, "and then I'll--"

     "You'll what?" Tarou said bluntly.  His eyes were cold.
     
     "I'll... I'll..."
     
     Kasumi's father seemed to deflate, grow smaller.  "Just go.
We have enough troubles already."

     Tarou's lip curled up into a bitter smile.  Something in his
eyes looked almost hurt for a moment.  "If you had any damn idea 
why I came here in the first place..."

     Then something seemed to go out of him as well.  He suddenly
looked very tired, losing some of his cockiness.  "Who cares?  I
should have known better anyway.  The bunch of you deserve each
other."

     With that, he spun on his heel and walked out of the dining
room; they heard the front door open and close moments later.  

     Soun sat back down, looking tired and old.  
     
     "I'm sorry about that, everyone," he muttered 
apologetically, and began to pick at his food.  

     Most of Kasumi felt sorry too.  It wasn't nice when guests
fought.  That wasn't right at all.

     And the other part, the part that had wanted to cry out when
Tofu had touched her, the part that had wanted to scream when he
hadn't stopped, the part that had exalted when Tarou had grabbed
the doctor's wrist, it went back further and further, because it
wasn't right to be rude to guests.

**********

     Tarou stalked down the street.  It was a way of moving that
made it clear to everyone that they had damn well get out of his
way.  Everyone did.

     He wanted to go back and put his fist in that smiling
doctor's face.  He wanted to go back and tear that house apart in
his monster form.

     But where would that get him, he thought silently.  Did he
want to fulfil every expectation they had of him?  

     It hurt, he realized with shame.  The loneliness, the
rejection, it had always hurt.  He couldn't deny that any longer.
The worst part was that none of it had been his damn fault; the
doctor had started everything.  

     He had barely managed to control himself after he'd been hit
with the rice steamer, his deal with Nabiki only barely managing
to keep him from lashing out.  

     But he was damn sure that the doctor had been going for one
of the strike points on his neck when he'd reached for him.  And
he wasn't big on people touching him without permission anyway.

     "Wait!  Please, wait!"
     
     The voice behind him sounded out of breath.  He stopped
walking and stood under the pool of light cast by a streetlamp,
as he watched Nodoka Saotome hurry down the street after him.

     A kimono, he observed, was not the easiest thing to run in.
     
     He watched Ranma's mother approach, and remembered Ranma
standing with him before the golden dragon that lay bound and
broken under Jusendo.

     He watched her step into the circle of light cast blankly
from above, and remembered the battle with Galm, and the rain
falling from the storm clouds, and Saffron dying with his head in
his brother's lap.

     "I'm glad I caught you," she said.  "I want to apologize.
Soun... Soun has been under a lot of stress lately.  We all have,
but Kasumi says he's been trying very hard to deal with it."

     "It wasn't my fault," Tarou muttered, feeling oddly
defensive.     

     Nodoka nodded.  "I don't think it was either.  I don't know
why they tolerate that man... I don't like him very much."

     "Can't say I do either," Tarou said sardonically.

     "What is it you do, exactly?" Nodoka asked.  "Are you a
fighter, like..."

     She trailed off for a moment.  "Like my son."
     
     Tarou nodded.  "Yeah.  But I'm better."
     
     He felt a familiar smirk grow on his face.  "Mostly, though,
I wander."

     He looked at her, at the sadness hidden behind her eyes, and
his smirk disappeared as he continued.  "I get around a lot.  I
might run into Ranma sometime, wherever he is."

     "Oh," she replied dully.  "Perhaps you will."
     
     And Tarou looked into her eyes, and saw something, some tiny
flicker, that made him realize that, just perhaps, a part of her
knew.

     "If you do," she continued, speaking softly, so softly he
had to strain to hear her, "please tell him I miss him very 
much."

     Tarou looked down at the ground for a moment.  "I will."
     
     He looked at her face, pale in the light, and spoke, almost
hesitantly.  "I'm sure he misses you."

     He found, to his shame, that he could barely speak through
the lump in his throat.  "I know that I'd miss my mother, if I
knew where she was but couldn't see her."

     And some part of him wished he hadn't said that, and another
part was so glad that he had.  He turned to go, angry and
embarrassed and yet, strangely, feeling better than he had before.

     "Wait," Nodoka called behind him, laying a cool hand on his
bare shoulder.  "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

     He glanced back, and lied.  "Yeah."
     
     Then he walked off into the dark streets, leaving Ranma's
mother standing in the harsh white glare of the light.  

     He could still hear, faintly, the cicadas chirping somewhere 
far in the distance, but the bright fragility of the fireflies 
he'd seen before in the backyard had long ago been consumed 
within the sprawling darkness of the city.


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