Part B, as promised. Please C&C. Part C by early next week, I hope.
Disclaimer: The playground is by Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only playing
in it. Remember to leave the grounds cleaner than you found them and
please don't feed the Troll.
*Summer Lightning* is copyright by Garnet Rogers; if you haven't
encountered him before go out and buy his CDs, he sings lots better
than I write.
*This is a sound.*
'This is a thought.'
_This is emphasis._
{This is a sign.}
<This is Chinese.>
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Ranma & Akane: A Love Story
Chapter 1: The First Day
Part B: Encampment: Kuno Strikes Out.
Class had gone moderately well, Akane reflected. Ranma's educational
level had proven to be surprisingly spotty: she was barely adequate in
math for example and had no concept of Algebra, yet her grasp of
history was excellent and her English was much better than anyone else
in class, including the teacher. Fortunately class 3-1 was scheduled to
take up physical education and music after lunch: Akane was looking
forward to seeing Ranma in action in PhysEd, and, considering her
voice, in Music as well.
But both of these would wait until after lunch and Akane was looking
forward to lunch as well. Lunch would, after all, allow her to question
Ranma more closely about several matters: murder, for one, and what
she meant by 'nom de guerre', and what her history had been and many
other questions were bubbling in her head, looking for answers.
Fortunately for Akane's fragile patience, lunch was not long
delayed. The temporarily released students scattered over the Furinkan
grounds, Ranma and Akane claiming a shaded spot next to the Furinkan
wall. No one seemed inclined to join them, which was just as well,
Akane felt, as it afforded privacy.
"Okay", Akane said brightly, "tell me about Bushiko, and why it's a
nom de guerre. And what you're doing under a nom de guerre anyway."
"Well... Um. Basically it started when I was 5 or so. That was when
my Dad decided that I wouldn't get trained right if we stayed home, so
he took me on a permanent training trip."
"We travelled a lot", Ranma continued, "and didn't settle in one
place for more than 4 months or so for the next 6 years. Then Dad found
this stupid Martial Arts training manual that showed how to train
for an 'invincible technique'."
"Feh", Ranma brooded for a minute, then resumed. "Anyway, _after_
the training he discovered that the reason nobody uses that technique
is that, even if it works, the stress sends you psychotic."
Akane gasped, and Ranma nodded.
"After that, Dad tried to keep 'training' me, but I nearly killed
him 3 times in the next week. I knew it wasn't going to get any better
either, so I beat him up instead."
"I told him that he'd trained me for 6 years and now I was going to
go away and train myself for 6 years, and at the end of that time I'd
fight him for mastery of the school: if he beat me I'd stay under
training with him for as long as he said, if I beat him he'd go back
to work to raise money untill the school got back on its' feet, and
then retire."
"That was more than 5 years ago, and the deadline is in 6 months."
Akane leaned closer concernedly. "How terrible! It must have been
very hard on you!"
"Less so than you'd think", Ranma replied. "I admit it wasn't easy,
but I'd been doing most of the domestic stuff anyway: Dad's hopeless
at anything that means he'd have to work. So, the only real problem
was fixing the damage he'd done. It took 6 months, but I found a
temple on Honshu and locked the technique away and the craziness with
it."
"But you're fine now?", Akane said, still concerned.
"Mostly, though I'm still afraid of cats."
"Cats? Why cats?"
"Because ..."
Alas for the state of Akane's cluefulness, the conversation was to
be interrupted. And by none other than the usual suspect for interrup-
tions at Furinkan, that paragon of honor, that champion of sport, that
noble traveller in hakama, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, Kuno
Tatewaki.
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Tatewaki himself was experiancing a state of mind that was highly
unusual to him: doubtful thought. He had been angered (once he had had
a chance to reflect on it) by Ranma's accusation that any action he had
ever undertaken was less than perfectly honorable, much less... that
word. It couldn't be... that word... could it? After all he had always
allowed her to win, had he not? (He knew, of course, that no girl
,beauteous tiger or no, could resist his masculine might.) So he had
allowed her to work through her shyness, trusting in the day when she
would see the purity of his affections, cast off her maidenlike
reluctance, and allow him to date her.
Now, however, the purity of his motives had been called into
question. Looked at in a certain light it could almost be said that his
honor had been sullied. If he did not redress the situation, and soon,
his fair flower might well (horrors) _believe_ the libelous, malicious
_lies_ proposed by that... that...
Well, of course, it was not fair to expect too much from the Sunset
haired Amazon. She was obviously some variety of barbarian and new to
Furinkan besides: she couldn't be _expected_ to see the true nobility
of his motives. But that at least was easily remedied. If he simply
displayed the excellence of his martial skills by defeating her, she
would quickly come to understand the rightness of his cause. No doubt
her savage heart would be won over to its' rightful possession as well,
and then, well, the possibilities were unbounded. He might even end up
with _two_ maidens to be beaten up by.
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At this time the narrator of this story would like to interject an
explanation for the lack of thought quotes in the preceding passages.
The reason can be stated simply: no verbalizable thoughts have been
in Tatewaki's possession to this point in the story.
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Unfortunately for Tatewaki, however, more than one worry wrinkled
his noble brow as he stood before his locker some 5 minutes before
Ranma and Akane's conversation was interrupted. The other worry was
simply stated: should he take along his sword?
There were arguments for and against, of course. Against such an
action must stand the fact that the red-headed barbarian had not, till
now, deserved of him such a drastic response, likewise that bared steel
was afterall both excessive and inappropriate for instruction or
for courting a shy maiden's hand. On the 'for' scale, alternately, lay
the undeniable fact that she had boasted of recently killing no fewer
than three opponents. Gross and disgusting men, no doubt, lacking in
honor and skill, and certainly deserving of their fates, but...
Fortunately, the noble Kuno mind was more than equal to the
challenge even of so momentous a decision, quickly supplying an answer
both sagacious and honorable: He would take the sword (in case of
need), but keep it concealed (to avoid spooking her).
And so it was that the noble and glorious Kuno Tatewaki, fortified
with blade and bokken, and prepared for every contingency, stood near
his beloved and her companion some five minutes later. Prepared to
issue a challenge both martial and kindly, such as to make clear not
only the rightness of his cause, but also his essential magnificance.
In what should come as no real surprise to anyone who has read this
far, he got it wrong.
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Ranma looked up at the annoying fool who was attempting to overawe
her and then tilted her head at Akane.
"And this is who?"
"I, fair maiden, am Kuno Tatewaki, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan
High. You may address me as 'upperclassman Kuno' when you ask my
pardon for your deplorable sin. For, by my sword's honor the worth of
the Blue Thunder is as great as his wrath, nor ever has he stooped to
other than honorable action, nor..."
"Lad ... _Lad_", Ranma interrupted, "before you go challenging me to
a swordfight, it _might_ be a good idea to find yourself a sword."
"A sword I possess", Tatewaki replied frostily, "its' name is
Asatsuyu ('Morning Dew') and it's lineage is ..."
"Ah", Ranma deadpanned, rising smoothly to her feet, "mine is named
Tenchuu no yasashigena (The Gentle Kiss of Heaven, Heaven's kiss).
Akane, will you call the dance please?"
"But of course, Ranma", Akane replied. She, too, rose to her feet
and took position just outside of a virtual 20 foot circle that seemed
to have appeared around the two swordbearers. "_Assume_!"
Tatewaki slowly drew his Katana and assumed chudan, reaching as his
training indicated for the dominance, the mental struggle that begins
a match. "I am Tatewaki Kuno, of the Spinning Shears School of Kendo,
champion of Furinkan High." His voice attempted firmness, yet his
thoughts were in turmoil, 'I did not wish a duel with _steel_,
something is wrong, her eyes, they are so ... blue ...'.
Ranma pulled a sheathed blade of the tachi pattern from beneath her
jacket and held it loosely at her side. "I am Bushiko Ranma, who may
claim no school", her voice was again pleasant and conversational, "
only a humble pilgrim on the road."
In contrast to the shaken kendoist her thoughts revolved around one
theme only: 'Remember, _don't kill him_.' And her calm, passionless
regard was a stone on which Tatewaki's concentration splashed like sea
wrack before a storm.
Some seven seconds a stillness passed between the two, while Akane
held her hand on high. And then she let it fall, "Kumite", and then the
storm began.
Ranma seemed to blur to most watching eyes, yet to Tatewaki she was
clear as day, though he himself seemed mired in mud. She crossed the 20
feet between them in a single gliding step while her sword came up to
just above her shoulder and its' sheath spun about 15 feet up in the
air like a black-laquered frisbee. Then she was past him, and his
katana belled as she struck through his defence and he gasped in
surprise as his racing perceptions _saw_ the point turn aside from his
heart and tear through about 2 inches of flesh on his upper arm.
He turned half about with the force of the blow and felt the
beginnings of pain before she spun in a perfect hi-low slash, both of
which evaded his fumbling blade to spray blood from two slashes over
his cheeks, and cut his hakama to score both thighs. She took another
step forward and began a pattern of lightning fast light blows, none of
which came even close to being blocked, and all of which drew blood.
Driven stumbling back until he was almost forced against the outer
wall of the schoolyard where he briefly rallied enough to return his
sword to something approximating a gaurd position, before Ranma blurred
even to his racing sight, seeming to appear on both sides of him at
once. Pain exploded through him as more than 50 minor cuts struck all
over his body at once. Then, as he stumbled back, Ranma set herself and
sapped forward again.
The first strike cut across the top of both hands, knocking the
sword from his grip in a gleaming mid-air circle. The second, reversed,
strike snapped the flying blade in half before his eyes, driving him
all the way back to the wall. The last, two handed, decapitation strike
blazed in unstoppably to kiss the skin on his neck ... and stopped
motionless.
Trembling, Tatewaki looked up into emotionless blue eyes and the
passionless, restrained violence of a tornado. And suddenly, in what
may have been the only genuinely inspired moment of his life to that
point, recieved a vision. A vision of Ranma, clad in armor, and
wielding the sword pressed against his throat, slaughtering her way
through what seemed to him to be an entire army. A vision that showed
him, in no uncertain terms, the difference between fencing on the Dojo
floor, and life and death by the sword. Of the difference between a
person who could swing a sword, and one who could kill with it; and
more importantly, _not_ kill with it.
And for the first time in his life, Kuno Tatewaki looked his own
Art in the face, and was ashamed. And buried his head in his hands,
pushing down the blade at his neck, and wept.
And Ranma lowered her blade and said "Aye, now. You've learned that
lesson. And you'll have scars to remind you of it, as scars tend to
do."
And she quirked a smile, highlighting the scars prominent around her
own mouth. And Tatewaki, looking up, essayed a tentative smile of his
own.
She walked over to her scabbard, picked it up, and put Tenchuu away.
Then she picked up the two halves of Tatewaki's katana, and returning
to stand in front of him, held them out to him to take.
"It's said that the soul of a samurai is his sword, Kuno Tatewaki.
Your's would appear to be broken. Perhaps, before you call yourself
a samurai again, you should spend some time mending it."
And then she returned to her seat by the wall, and Akane sat by her.
And Kuno Tatewaki turned away, holding the remnants of his blade, and
stumbled off to the infirmarary, to patch his wounds.
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"It is my firm conviction", Ranma said, "that it is a gentleman's
highest duty to smoke out sillyness like that, and step on it."
"But, Ranma, you're not a gentleman."
"And why not?"
"Because, use the masculine forms how you may, it's obvious you're
_not_ a boy."
"Feh", Ranma waived a dismissing hand, "Details. Mere details."
Akane leaned close, "Ranma, you've _got_ to teach me how to do some
of that."
"Er, but, don't you have a sensei already?", Ranma nervously asked.
"Only my Dad, and he hasn't trained me seriously in years."
"Er ... *sigh*, OK, we'll go to your place later and see what you
need to work on."
And they shook hands on the deal as the bell rang to bring lunch to
a close.
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Last period, and Music for class 3-1 as the usual sound of tortured
musical instruments resounded through the room. Akane, noted Ranma, was
more than qualified with the saxophone. Then it was Ranma's turn, and
she drew her guitar from the same place she stowed her sword and ran
through scales, and chords, and parts of tunes to the music teacher's
command.
She was, it was noted to few people's surprise, easily better than
anyone else in the class, save perhaps for Akane.
As the last part of the drew close the teacher asked Ranma if she
was any good at song.
Ranma hefted her guitar and grinned, "What song would you like."
"You pick", came the response.
Ranma grinned again, and poised her hand above the strings.
"Alright, here's a love song then."
And then Akane heard for the first time what she would, in later
times come to regard as the song closest to her vision of Ranma's
heart.
I was riding west, through Ontake Mountains.
The hills were heavy with new-fallen snow,
And the sun-bright hills were dappled like a pony,
I was riding hard, I had miles to go.
And a magpie flew, cross the mountain highway,
It flashed and tumbled, through the golden trees,
And I thought of you, and my heart was lifted,
And floated with that magpie, on the morning breeze.
We are brief Summer lightning,
We are swift as swallows flight.
We are sparks that spiral upwards,
In the darkness of the night.
We are frost upon the window,
We won't pass this way again,
In the end only love remains.
Tonight the Harvest Moon hangs over the valley,
I see the hills shine, in its' silvery light.
It's the same old Moon, that shines down upon me,
And'll light my way, till I'm by your side.
For where I go, You go with me,
Though the miles keep us apart.
Your kisses on my lips, and your arms around me,
And your gentle hands, always on my heart.
We are brief Summer lightning,
We are swift as swallows flight.
We are sparks that spiral upwards,
In the darkness of the night.
We are frost upon the window,
We won't pass this way again,
In the end only love remains.
Well who scattered these diamonds through the vault of Heaven?
Who drew the curve of the magpie's wing?
Who shaped your face and what made you love me?
Where is the heart of every living thing?
Well, I guess I don't know, and I don't care either.
I know you love me, how could it not be?
And I am your's, now and forever,
'Till my lips fall silent, and my eyes can't see.
We are brief Summer lightning,
We are swift as swallows flight.
We are sparks that spiral upwards,
In the darkness of the night.
We are frost upon the window,
We won't pass this way again,
In the end Dear, only love remains.
And as Ranma finished the song and lowered her head, the school day
of Furinkan came to its' end.
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Next: Chapter 1, part C.
Circumvallation: Shopping for streetgangs.
Our Heros meet up with Nabiki at the end of the day, sometime later,
they go shopping. Explanations are proffered, plans are laid, Akane
makes a decision, and a fun time is had by all, except the streetgang.
Eric Hallstrom hallcon@mindspring.com