Once more into the breach with the characters that aren't mine.

Chapter 4

Shampoo--she had come to accept the corrupted version of her name here 
in Japan--had just finished serving another large order for lunch. Most 
days the cafe she helped to run with Great-grandmother was half-busy. 
But the warmer temperatures had brought people out of their houses and 
today the tables were filled to capacity.

Placing the serving tray on the pickup counter at the left wall, she 
rested for a moment between orders. The warmer weather was having its 
effect on her as well as her customers. She was wearing a shantung silk 
one-piece, dyed purple to match her hair, no sleeves and short skirted 
and she was still overheated. On top of the purple an intricate pattern 
of flowers and vines had been printed. And the three Japanese kanji that 
she accepted as meaning "Cat Caf�" were embroidered in gold thread along 
the belt. She was becoming concerned. This skirt was one of the nicer 
ones she owned. If it got any hotter, the fabric could get ruined. She 
looked at the customers. If they were feeling the heat as well, they 
showed no signs of it.

Absently plucking the petals of a wilted bellflower from one of the 
tables, another tray was placed beside the one she had brought back.
"Shampoo," Great-grandmother said. "Four more orders of ramen. To table 
seven."

"Why everyone order hot soup on hot day, Great-grandmother?" Shampoo 
asked in the best Japanese she could.

"It is beyond even me, child," she replied in her ancient voice.

As Shampoo was edging her way along the folding screen on the back wall 
to avoid the crowd, she wondered why she couldn't speak more proper 
Japanese. She had been living here long enough, almost two years. But 
still she sounded like a child.

<<Maybe that's why Ranma didn't want to marry me,>> she thought. <<It's 
because I sound like a Chinese bimbo.>>

Though she knew it was also because of Ranma's feelings for Akane, she 
still latched on to this new idea of improving her language skills. Her 
torch for Ranma had all but extinguished--only Great-grandmother kept it 
lit with her insistent huffing--but one more chance to impress him 
couldn't hurt.

She set the bowls down on the table and made her way back to the 
counter. She had to snake through the crowd but she wasn't afraid of 
anyone trying to grab her. After the one patron who did muscle up enough 
courage to reach out and touch her, no one else dared come close. Mostly 
out of the fear of losing more teeth than he did.

When she made it back to the counter, she saw Great-grandmother hang up 
the phone. Her spirits began to lift. If she had to deliver an order it 
meant getting out of the restaurant and getting some exercise. She 
flipped her amethyst-shiny hair over her shoulder and brushed back a few 
short strands that clung to her neck.

"Shampoo," Great-Grandmother started, "could you call Mousse over?"

"Mousse?" Shampoo asked. She turned around.

Mousse was busy bussing tables and serving drinks. With moderate 
success. He had a severe case of nearsightedness that required him to 
wear glasses with lenses so thick, she could barely see the eyes behind 
them.

He had learned to cope despite his visual impairment. He always wore his 
glasses during work hours, though barely at all any other time, and he 
learned to slow down a bit. The effect it had on his productivity as a 
worker was negative but very little. It affected his martial arts skills 
even less. She admired him for that.

But for Mousse, admiration was never enough. Repeatedly, he had tried to 
win her affections. The first time was in China in the Amazon village. 
He gave a short speech as his marriage proposal, then in the Amazon 
tradition they engaged in combat. The fight was over faster than the 
speech was. He tried in vain many times over before she left the village 
after Ranma. The second major attempt was made in Japan after Ranma had 
defeated her. He engaged Ranma in many battles yet lost every one of 
them.

Looking at him right now, watching him as he moved from table to table, 
she knew that he still held a grudge. She knew that the only thing that 
would settle him down would be nothing less than absolute victory over 
Ranma or herself. Over both if necessary. He was determined to come out 
on top. What he didn't realise was that she was just as determined, if 
not more so, to make sure that such a thing never happened.

She loathed to think what would happen if he actually was successful and 
she had to marry him. She was in line to becoming the leader of the 
Amazon tribe. If she were to present him as her husband, she would 
surely lose some, or most, or all of the confidence of the tribe. They 
may declare her unfit to rule if she had such a joke for a spouse. She 
and Mousse would have to face challenge after challenge to keep their 
position. Hundreds of fights would be waged and it would take them only 
one loss to have them deposed. Civil war was possible. She knew such 
thoughts were a little outrageous but then, she knew Joketsu women never 
were ones for subtleties.

"Mousse. Come quick," she called across the room.

He was in the middle of pouring a drink for a customer when he heard the 
call. He snapped his head around so quickly his glasses almost flew off 
his face. They faltered at the last second and landed low on his nose so 
that only the top halves of his green eyes peered over the frames. He 
started to take a step and bumped into one of the tables. He apologised 
quickly and on his second attempt, he ploughed through the crowd earning 
a few blows to the head.

Shampoo giggled softly at looked at Great-grandmother, inviting her to 
join in the joke. She just stood there, perfectly balanced on her staff 
and peered detachedly into the crowd.

Mousse, however, was becoming more agitated with each failed attempt. 
Another try ended with him tripping over his own robe.

Pushing up onto his haunches, he leapt up over the crowd. Out of his 
right sleeve he threw a steel claw attached to an iron chain and 
anchored it to a ceiling rafter. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he 
tugged on the chain and swung across the room over the heads of 
onlookers. At the perigee of his flight, he turned around and extended 
his knees out so that he looked as if he were adopting a formal sitting 
position. Just before he started to slow down, Mousse unhooked the claw 
and flew, still backwards, towards the wall.

She expected him to crash into the wall. Instead, he planted his feet 
against the wall, then arched his back so his hands were aimed at the 
floor. He landed on his fingertips. Pushing his feet off the wall and 
his hands off the floor, he sprung up and added a half twist, like he 
was performing a pole vault. He landed on his feet then dropped to one 
knee and clasped her hands between his own. Even his waist-length black 
hair fell neatly behind his shoulders. The crowd behind him applauded 
with delight.

"What can I do for you my most darling Shampoo?" he asked in the most 
debonair tone his cracked voice would allow.

She just stood there, agape with astonishment. She had never seen him do 
anything so gracefully. She had never seen him do anything graceful 
period.

"A mere flirt with good luck is all," Great-grandmother stated firmly. 
"Get off your knee, boy."

He didn't move, keeping his head down.

Shampoo looked at Great-grandmother then down at him. "Stand up, 
Mousse."

He was on his feet in less than a second.

Great-grandmother dismissed his impertinence in obvious favour of 
expedience. "I just received a call from the Tendo dojo." She paused to 
see if they were paying attention. "They asked me if you two could pay a 
visit."

"Why both of us, Great-grandmother?" Shampoo asked. She didn't want to 
turn down the invitation, but she found it strange that anyone would 
actually invite her over, let alone both of them.

"He didn't elaborate but I sensed some level of urgency in his voice," 
Great-grandmother replied.

"What about restaurant?"

"He said he would order something to make it worth the trip," she said 
as she packed some bowls into the delivery box. She handed it over to 
Shampoo.

"Who is He?" Mousse asked angrily, his eyes squinting a little.

"I believe it was Son-in-law's father," Great-Grandmother shot back.

"Ranma's father?"

"Don't make me repeat myself." Great-Grandmother glared at Mousse.

"We get going now. Okay, Mousse?" Shampoo started tugging on his arm. So 
help her, she would carry him out just to get him away from 
Great-grandmother.

He yielded against her pull momentarily, but complied. She was grateful 
that he didn't try to push things further. She had to get to the dojo to 
see what the enigmatic phone call was about.

______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com