All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless
=========================
RELENTLESS
A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction
By Grayson Towler
=========================
-----------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER EIGHT:
Breakthrough
-----------------------------------------------------------
Ryouga popped open his umbrella to break his fall only a few
meters before hitting the ground. Even from his elevated
vantage point on the cliff face, Ranma could hear the lost
boy grunt when he hit the ground. It was clear that Ryouga
didn't want to be dangling in the air like a dandelion seed
when the Reikoku emerged from the rubble.
"Damn it! He's gonna get himself killed!" Ranma shouted. He
hopped down the cliff face to the next ledge, passing Ukyou
in his descent. "Ucchan! You keep goin', you hear me? Get
outta here!"
He didn't really expect she'd listen. She followed close
behind as he made his way down the sheer wall of stone.
Ryouga had made a real wreck of the mountainside with his
impromptu avalanche. It was going to take some work to find
a safe route to the ground with such precarious footing.
Neither Ranma nor Ukyou had any way to parachute down, as
Ryouga could with his umbrella. <How long can he hold out
before that thing turns him into a pig?> Ranma wondered.
<We gotta get there quick, or else...>
Below, the rocks began to shift. The monster plowed through
tons of stone and rubble with no more difficulty than it had
shown when passing through rushing water. No obstacle could
stand long between the Reikoku and its prey.
Ryouga charged the spot where the Reikoku was emerging, his
umbrella poised before him to strike. <If he makes it there
before it can get a bead on him,> Ranma thought, <maybe he's
got a chance...>
"Storming Umbrella Monsoon!" Ryouga howled.
His timing was just about perfect. The creature's black-robed
body was half-exposed from the prison of rubble when Ryouga
struck. He jabbed with his battle umbrella in violent fury,
over and over at blurring speeds. Each strike was powerful
enough to pulverize stone - a jackhammer would seem like a
love tap in comparison. The Reikoku was buffeted and smashed
in the midst of Ryouga's punishing assault. The reports of
the umbrella striking warped, chitinous armor echoed off the
canyon walls like rapid-fire gunshots.
Ryouga opened the umbrella for the finishing strike of his
attack. The sudden rush of wind caught the twisted figure of
the creature full in its grip, hurtling the Reikoku away into
the thin forest. Wood exploded and branches flew as the
monster plowed a trench through the trees in its path.
Ranma could see Ryouga breathing hard. He knew how it felt -
his own rapid-punch Amaguriken attack was very tiring, and he
wasn't trying to push a massively heavy weapon with each
strike.
"Did he do it?" Ukyou called breathlessly. "Is it over?"
The Reikoku responded before Ranma could. A burst of water
streaked through the air towards Ryouga from the cloud of dust
and debris where the monster had finally come to rest. Ryouga
jerked and blocked it reflexively with his open umbrella.
"It can't be!" Ukyou cried in dismay. "How could it have
survived that?"
"Come on!" Ranma redoubled his efforts to find a path down
the mountain. He wished he'd been closer to the action during
Ryouga's attack. He wondered if the creature had blocked or
dodged some of those umbrella strikes in some way, or if it
was really strong enough to come back from such a devastating
onslaught.
Ryouga crouched behind his umbrella as the barrage of water
continued. Ranma could see the Reikoku now, shuffling through
the wreckage of the trees at its maddeningly even pace,
launching blast after blast in rapid succession. It was all
the bandanna-clad martial artist could do to keep himself
shielded from the liquid assault. Soon, the Reikoku would
be upon him.
Ranma heard his friend start to growl with rage. The lost
boy's battle aura flared bright from behind the shield of his
umbrella.
"What's he doing?" Ukyou wailed. "Run, you jackass!"
Ryouga snarled like an animal and tightened his grip on his
umbrella.
Suddenly, Ranma realized what he had in mind. <Of course!> he
thought with excitement. <Of COURSE! I shoulda thought of
that before!>
The Reikoku was just a few meters away. Bursts of water
splashed in a staccato tempo off the surface of the red
umbrella.
"Now, Ryouga!" Ranma shouted. "NOW!"
In a sudden, violent motion, Ryouga hurled his umbrella
aside. A series of the Reikoku's water blasts struck him
square in the chest... and fizzled into steam against his
blazing battle aura.
"BAKUSAI TEN-KETSU!"
When Ryouga jabbed the ground with the breaking point, it
wasn't like one of his normal strikes. The stone roared and
heaved, flaring bright and hot as it exploded. Flying rubble
became a swarm of burning meteors which streaked outwards from
the blast point. The Reikoku staggered back under the barrage.
Ranma blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected THAT.
But the battle aura... he could have kicked himself for not
realizing it before. The first night that Ryouga had tried to
pull the acorns out of the campfire for the Amaguriken training
he'd shown how much heat he could generate from his aura. It
was the ideal defense against the water blast attack of the
Reikoku.
The only drawback, Ranma knew, was that an effort like that
would burn Ryouga's reserves up in a hurry. He didn't know
if the lost boy could keep it up long enough to finish his
foe.
Ryouga attacked in a berserk frenzy without any regard to his
own defense. Blazing fists slammed into the black robes of
the Reikoku, searing it where they struck. Claws raked at
Ryouga's flesh and smoldered as they passed through his raging
battle aura. He paid them no heed, trusting in his own
resistance to pain and injury.
"Die! Die! DIE!" The words tore themselves out of his throat
as he struck. A talon ripped at his temple, narrowly missing
his eye.
"DIE! DIE!" His aura began to flicker and wane. Ranma could
see he was near the end of his rope.
"DIE! Damn you, DIE!"
Ryouga's aura flared bright with one final surge of effort.
His fist blazed with energy as it plunged down towards the
Reikoku. He struck with an explosion of heat and a crack as
loud as thunder.
The creature fell.
He raised his quivering fist again over the prone form, ready
to strike again. And then Ranma was beside him, taking him
gently by the wrist. His flesh was hot to the touch.
"It's over, man," Ranma said. "You won."
"Heh..." Ryouga gasped hoarsely. "Wasn't... so tough..."
The lost boy's eyes rolled up into his head, and he crumpled
like a rag into Ranma's arms.
Ukyou choked out a sob of immense relief. "He did it. He did
it. Ryouga..."
"Sorry about this, man," Ranma whispered gently to the
unconscious martial artist as he pulled his water flask from
his pack. With a splash, Ryouga underwent the transformation
which he'd fought so hard to stave off during the fight.
Ukyou gave him a perplexed look. "Ranchan! Why'd you do
that?"
Ranma handed the sleeping piglet to her carefully. "We gotta
carry him back up the mountain. It's easier this way."
"Oh." Ukyou cradled the tiny black form in her arm.
Ranma retrieved Ryouga's umbrella and pack. Climbing that
sheer face again with the extra weight wouldn't be much fun,
but after Ryouga's effort he didn't have any cause to
complain. "Let's get the heck outta here, Ucchan."
- - - - - -
The great curved sword hissed through the air a bare centimeter
from Tarou's throat. The razor-edged weapon split the
pantyhose sash around Tarou's neck as he dodged, catching
the two pieces of sheer cloth in its wake like butterflies
in a gale force. Tarou shifted his stance and managed to duck
the follow-up swing, again with little room to spare.
If he stayed in close like this, Kiini was going to cut him to
shreds. The man became a windmill of steel death once he got
that sword going, and even Tarou's speed was barely sufficient
to keep him clear of that lethal edge. <Just give me an
opening, just one...>
The chance he'd been waiting for came when the sword brushed
an upturned root during one of Kiini's swings, altering its
trajectory just a fraction. Tarou lashed out with a
two-fingered strike directly towards Kiini's wrist, stabbing
at the pressure point with astonishing speed and accuracy.
Kiini's fingers should have straightened reflexively when
Tarou hit the nerve cluster. His sword should have spun away
into the trees when he released it. Instead, Tarou nearly
broke his fingers. It was like trying to poke through a bar
of solid iron.
Kiini clipped Tarou with a glancing slice to the arm. Tarou
winced, and then the swordsman suddenly broke the arc of his
swing and brought the pommel of his sword down like a hammer.
Tarou took the shot square in the forehead. Reflexes saved
him - he tumbled backwards without really thinking, away from
the flashing blade and certain defeat.
Kiini simply stood and laughed as Tarou recovered his footing.
"Did you really think it would be so easy to disarm a master
of the Muscle Sword?" he gloated. "I am one with my blade,
it is an extension of my soul! Such a stupid tactic. And
here I'd heard you were clever!" He threw back his head and
laughed.
If the fool was going just to sit there and crack himself up,
Tarou wasn't going to let the opportunity go to waste. He
launched himself at his foe, unloading with a merciless
combination of fore-knuckled blows. He struck unerringly
at Kiini's vital points - the solar plexus, the throat, the
temple. It felt like he was bouncing punches off a sheet of
stone.
Kiini took a step back and grunted in pain. With a roar, he
lashed out in a brutal arc with his blade. The air rippled
with power, and Tarou felt himself caught in a shockwave.
Earth split and nearby trees cracked as the wave of force
ripped through the air. Tarou hurtled away from Kiini and
crashed to the ground painfully.
"That," Kiini growled, "was very rude!"
Tarou scrambled to his feet and backed away from the advancing
swordsman warily. Those hits would have put a normal man in
his grave, and even a strong martial artist should have fallen.
Kiini must have undergone some serious endurance training to
shrug off such fearsome blows with so little effort.
"It's fitting that we are fighting so close to Jusenkyou,"
Kiini said as he stalked Tarou. "Once I defeat you, I will
take you there and find an appropriate new spring for you.
Drowned Weasel, perhaps. No, the Drowned Rat! Or the Drowned
Thompson's Gazelle!"
Tarou's foot struck something as he stepped. He spared a
brief glance down and saw the water flask he'd cast aside
earlier in the fight. In a sudden motion, he snatched it off
the ground.
Kiini set his sword spinning in front of him. Tarou felt a
rush of wind in his face. It was a good defense - if he tried
to throw a splash of water in the warrior's direction, it
would be blown harmlessly away. But that wouldn't stop Tarou
from changing himself.
"Yes, let's see that cursed form of yours!" Kiini laughed
challengingly. "This will be the last time you ever get to
use it, Pantyhose Tarou!"
He felt his anger flaring, but he forced his rage away. He
refused to let himself be taunted by this muscle-bound oaf.
With a deft motion, he tossed the flask towards the Jusenkyou
Guide, who was crouched behind a boulder observing the fight.
The chubby man fumbled with the container a moment before he
caught it.
"Hold on to that for me," Tarou said in an even tone. "I'm
going to be needing it here in just a moment."
"Pshaw!" Kiini snorted. "How boring. Without your cursed
form, you're nothing!"
"If I'm nothing, how come you haven't finished me yet?" Tarou
taunted back. "Come on, fatso. Let's see this so-called
Muscle Sword technique of yours."
"Fool!" Kiini bellowed. He charged Tarou, sword slashing the
air in a deadly pattern.
Tarou backpedaled and kept his distance easily. Kiini was
strong and brutally skilled with his blade, but he wasn't much
of a runner. And Tarou was guessing that he wasn't blessed
with a vast store of patience.
"Come back here, coward! I'll dunk you in the Spring of the
Drowned Chicken!"
"I see you've already fallen into the Spring of the Drowned
Blowhard," Tarou sneered.
Kiini's face grew red with anger. He stopped running and
took his sword in both hands. The mighty warrior slashed at
the ground in a great overhand strike. A thin, powerful
shockwave streamed out from the edge of the weapon, slicing
a trench in the earth as it streaked towards Tarou. The young
martial artist leaped nimbly aside and took a few more steps
back.
Kiini roared and launched a few more slashing waves in Tarou's
direction, but the Chinese boy had no trouble dodging them.
They were powerful, yet Kiini telegraphed this attack from
a mile away. "If I were a birthday cake," he called
mockingly, "I'd be terrified."
"Silence!" Kiini raged. He brought his sword up over his head
and spun it like a helicopter blade with both hands. "Taste
the fury of the Muscle Sword technique!"
The twirling blade lifted Kiini into the air. Waves of raw
power flowed outwards in every direction from the giant of a
warrior. The wind rushed and the ground trembled. Rocks and
clumps of dirt hurled themselves skyward as energy coursed
through the air from Kiini's twirling sword. It was as if the
earth was shaking itself apart under his command.
That was fine by Tarou. The little debris didn't hurt that
much, and he could avoid the big chunks of stone with ease.
In fact, he suddenly saw a way he could put these hurtling
stones to use. He sprinted in a circling pattern, flowing
with the force of the spiraling maelstrom. As he closed the
distance to the raging Kiini, he launched himself into the air
and leaped off one of the floating stones. The momentum
carried him close enough to the swordsman to strike. He
couldn't get much power behind his attack with such an awkward
charge, but he didn't need it. There was no regimen in the
world that could toughen up a man's eyeballs.
Kiini broke off his earth storm attack and dropped to the
ground, clutching his face and snarling angrily. Tarou hadn't
hit him hard enough to blind him, but the jab to Kiini's eyes
had undoubtedly hurt.
Tarou landed. He ached in a dozen different places - charging
into the heart of Kiini's storm like that had put him in the
path of more flying rocks and shrapnel than he could avoid -
but it had been worth it. He'd needed to make Kiini use some
of his more extravagant techniques, to burn his power and wear
himself out. The big man was panting for air and blinking
painfully.
Tarou didn't give him a chance to recover. He rushed the
swordsman, ducking under his defensive strike and moving in
very close, where it would be harder for the warrior to swing
at him with his blade. Tarou unloaded with his most
devastating attacks, holding nothing back as he rained down
blows upon Kiini's rock-hard body.
His assault did not come without cost. Kiini bull-rushed him
and knocked him back with sheer bulk, and nearly split him in
half with a murderous chop. But Tarou jerked back in time,
and the sword only opened a shallow gash across his chest.
The steel buried itself in the stone, and Tarou charged before
Kiini could free his weapon to strike again.
When the big man released his grip on his sword and staggered
backwards, Tarou knew the fight was over. Even so, it took
another long series of attacks before the giant warrior
finally went down.
<Tough,> Tarou thought as he stood over Kiini's fallen form,
gasping for breath. <Very... very tough. But not tough
enough.> He wished that idiot Hibiki had been here to see
this. He would have liked that very much.
"K... Kiini!"
Tarou glanced over and saw the spokesman for the Jusenkyou
Preservation Society approaching with a look of utter
disbelief on his face. Tarou flashed him an unpleasant
grin. "Oh yes," he said. "You. I almost forgot."
The man's eyes went wide, and he backed away from Tarou with
a look of horror on his face. Tarou reached down and grabbed
a handful of Kiini's shirt. He dragged the bulky swordsman
behind him as he advanced.
"What are you doing? Keep away!" the spokesman wailed.
Tarou ignored him. He reached his pack and let go of Kiini.
"Guide," he snapped. "My flask, if you please."
The Guide approached, trembling. "Oh sir, what you going to
do now?"
Tarou grunted as he searched through his supplies. "I have a
little present for you idiots," he said to the spokesman.
"You claim that you protect these springs, but I've never
heard of you doing anything useful. In fact, all you ever
seem to do is get your cheap thrills by going around torturing
people who have curses. And the only reason you've survived
this long is because of him." He jerked a thumb at the
unconscious Kiini.
"Uh..." the spokesman fiddled with his hat and looked nervous.
"But you won't have him anymore," Tarou said with certainty.
"You're going to kill him!" the spokesman exclaimed.
"Oh sir, please no do that!"
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Tarou said with an evil
chuckle. "No, I've got something much more appropriate in
mind. First, a dash of water."
Kiini shrunk dramatically when the water hit, his features
shifting as his body underwent the change. He was still a man
after the transformation, but that was about all his cursed
form had in common with his true body. The bald, skinny
little monk looked like a child lost in the baggy tent of
Kiini's clothing. It seemed the change was enough to drag
him towards consciousness again - Kiini the monk blinked
and looked about with glazed eyes.
"Mmm... oh. Oh my. What is the sound of one hand falling
in the forest, if nobody is around to hear it?" he muttered
as he sat up.
Tarou grinned. "And now, the finishing touch," he said with
a menacing flourish. He carefully withdrew another container
from his pack and poured a small quantity of the water within
onto the diminutive monk.
There was no visible change - Kiini barely seemed to notice
it. The spokesman eyed the bottle in Tarou's hand
suspiciously. "What was that? What did you do?"
Tarou just laughed.
"Kiini?" The spokesman's voice trembled as he spoke. "Are
you all right?"
"Zen is like a hubless wheel hanging in a tree from its teeth
over a precipice," Kiini explained sagely.
"Why don't you change him back?" Tarou suggested. "I know the
Guide always keeps a warm kettle handy."
On cue, the Guide handed over a steaming kettle of water. The
spokesman poured a trickle of water onto Kiini's head, but was
not rewarded by the expected transformation. Kiini remained
in his monk form, paying no attention to the hot water.
"What did you do to him?" the spokesman wailed.
"It's called Chisuiton," Tarou explained. "I think you can
tell what it does by now."
"Wha... wha..." the spokesman stammered. He looked at Kiini
with frantic eyes. "How could you do such a thing?"
Tarou crossed his arms. "It seemed fitting. I like him
better this way."
"The lioness teaches her cubs to search for fire with a lighted
lantern," Kiini commented agreeably.
"Sounds like he's still a bit concussed," Tarou observed.
"D... does it wear off?" the spokesman asked in pleading tones.
"No."
"Is... is there..." the weasely man licked his lips nervously.
"Is there a cure?"
"Oh, of course."
"Could you please give it to me?" he begged.
"I don't have it," Tarou lied smoothly. "I can tell you how
to get it, though."
"Tell me!" the spokesman cried. "Please, sir, please tell
me, and I promise we won't ever bother you again!"
Tarou made a long show of thinking it over as he composed his
story in his mind. "All right. I suppose it's only fair.
First, you have to go to the Gobi desert and seek a member of
a rare, ancient race known as the Red Ogres. They're very
reclusive and quite dangerous - it will be very hard to find
a guide who's even willing to talk about them, I'm afraid.
In any case, you must slay one of these beings and take the
horn which protrudes from its forehead. I suggest you leave
quickly once you've done this... they tend to be very
vengeful, but they won't follow you out of the desert. Are
you with me so far?"
"Uh..."
"You must take the horn to an island off the coast of India,
to the Palace of the Five Scepters. The guardians of the
palace will then subject you to five ordeals, each of which
is more difficult than the last. I am not permitted to warn
you of the nature of the ordeals, I'm afraid, but I hope you
have a good firm grip on your sanity."
The spokesman swallowed hard.
"Assuming you survive the ordeals, the guardians of the palace
will provide you with a map. This map will take you to a
secret path in the frozen wastes of northern Asia, through
the land of the Howling Spirits. The journey will eventually
lead you to the lair of the Dragon of Winter, who will ask you
three riddles. If you answer these riddles correctly, the
Dragon of Winter will give you the cure. If not... well,
best not to dwell on that."
"Has a dog a Buddha nature?" Kiini asked a curious squirrel.
"Compared to the Chinese god who moved a flag with his mind,
it is like throwing a pebble at a minnow."
The spokesman's jaw dangled loosely as he stared at Tarou with
wide, horrified eyes. "A...ah. I... see. I don't suppose
there's an easier way?"
"I'm afraid not." The fool's expression was priceless.
Tarou had to struggle to keep a straight face.
The spokesman for the Jusenkyou Preservation Society looked
like a man on the way to his own funeral. He turned away from
Tarou slowly, taking hold of Kiini's arm with numb fingers.
"Come on, Kiini," he said in a dead voice. "We've got... a
long journey in front of us."
"Asking what Buddha is," Kiini noted patiently, "is like
hiding a bull in one's pocket and declaring oneself an
impenetrable ravine."
"Yeah, right," the spokesman muttered. He gave Tarou one last
mournful look over his shoulder, then trudged away down the
forest path with a gently babbling Kiini in tow.
"Well, that gives him a hobby," Tarou quipped.
"Sir, that very mean thing to do," the Guide said.
The martial artist gave him a wry look. "I notice you didn't
offer to tell him the truth."
The Guide twiddled his thumbs nervously and looked away. "I
thought that not such good idea, maybe. Mr. Customer might
have gotten angry, no?"
"Smart man," Tarou said with a wicked grin. "Now, let's get
down to business. As I was saying before we were so rudely
interrupted, I'm looking for a spring..."
- - - - - -
"Kick, punch, it's all in the mind
If you want to test me, I'm sure you'll find
The things I'll teach ya
Are sure to beat ya
But nevertheless, you'll get a lesson from teacher..."
Akane regarded Kurumi with a baffled stare as the girl
completed her odd little song. "What was that?" she asked.
"Nothing!" the little martial artist chimed. "Come on,
let's start!"
Akane shrugged and crossed the dojo floor to meet her opponent.
Her father, Mr. Saotome, and Natsume sat cross-legged at the
edge of the mat, observing this latest training session. The
spar was mostly a warm-up - in an hour, she'd go out with Dr.
Tofu to the rock, and then come back for a more serious match
with Natsume. Akane had never trained so hard in her entire
life.
What amazed her was that the harder she worked, the more energy
she seemed to have the next day. Every day was still a
struggle, yet it felt like she'd broken through some sort of
barrier. She was still sore all the time, but the pain was
manageable and it didn't seem to really slow her down anymore.
The fights every morning at school were getting easier by the
day, even though the boys had begun to use more weapons and
coordinate their attacks better. She was even up to two
sessions a day with the boulder - once in the morning, once
in the evening - and had stopped needing the pads. The
breaking point continued to elude her, but at least her
endurance was improving.
Her toughness and strength were on the rise, so Kurumi and
Natsume focused on improving her speed and technique. Her
father and Mr. Saotome often offered their instruction from
the sidelines. For someone who had mostly been in charge of
her own training for the past several years, such concentrated
attention was an exhilarating experience.
Akane lashed out with a kick combination, which her opponent
dodged with ease. She gnashed her teeth slightly and pressed
her attack. Too late, she realized that she'd left herself
open, and felt Kurumi bounce a series of rapid blows off her
ribs and temple. Fortunately, it seemed like the girl wasn't
hitting at full strength - the strikes were more embarrassing
than painful.
Training with Kurumi reminded Akane of her spars with Ranma.
The small girl moved like a hummingbird, with her lazy-seeming
stance and sudden bursts of blinding movement. Her focus with
the Anything-Goes style involved frustrating her opponent,
forcing an adversary to leave openings and make mistakes.
Her sister's style was more like Akane's, based on poise and
strength. Of course, it was a bit different when they used
their weapons.
Kurumi suddenly lashed out with her ribbon as Akane was
landing from a flying kick. She saw that there was no way
she could avoid getting her feet entangled, so she simply
allowed the ribbon to wrap her ankles together. The fine silk
stung and burned to the touch - a very advanced trick of
ki-focusing that Kurumi had mastered - but Akane ignored the
pain. She fell as the ribbon tightened, pretending she'd been
tripped, but as she went down she rolled over to her back and
kicked up with her legs in a sudden, violent motion. She'd
been hoping that she'd disarm Kurumi with the attack, but the
little girl held onto the ribbon and was yanked into the air.
She tumbled and twisted as she sailed over Akane's head,
bringing her feet around underneath her to land. As Kurumi
was about to hit the mat, Akane thrust her legs hard the other
direction, snapping the girl at the end of her own ribbon like
a whip.
Kurumi's body jerked around and she landed hard on her back.
She was tougher than she looked, though - with a flick of her
wrist she unwound the ribbon from Akane's ankles before she
could try to throw her again. The two fighters rolled to
their feet faced each other again.
"Would anyone like a snack?"
Kurumi's eyes bugged wide and she whirled to the door.
"Kasumi!" she exclaimed with glee. "Food!"
For a moment, Akane considered taking a swipe at the girl
while she'd left herself open. Certainly, there were plenty
of martial artists who would take the opportunity - "Never
turn your back to an opponent until the fight is over," as the
saying went. But Akane didn't see that there was anything
worthy about taking a cheap shot at a friend. She relaxed
her stance and wiped the sweat from her face.
Kasumi held the tray of steaming pork buns at arm's length
as Kurumi charged. The diminutive martial artist attacked the
plate with deranged gusto, snatching the savory buns and
cramming them into her mouth in a frenzy of motion and sound.
Kasumi remained unperturbed. "I brought some lemonade," she
informed the others as the small, hungry beast frothed like a
whirlwind around her extended arm.
"Ah, thank you Kasumi," Tendou Soun said. "That sounds just
fine."
"Can I have... a pork bun?" Mr. Saotome asked hopefully, eyeing
the besieged platter. Kurumi whirled and glared at him with
bloodshot eyes, snarling like a badger and covering her pork
buns protectively. Saotome Genma flinched back and trembled.
"Your reaction to Kurumi's ribbon attack was very good, Akane,"
Natsume said as she accepted a glass from Kasumi. "Your form
and technique have always been strong, but now you're learning
to improvise in battle. The ability to adapt to a foe is the
greatest strength of the Anything-Goes style."
Akane bowed in thanks for the praise - something about Natsume
engendered an unconscious tendency towards formality. "There's
something I've been wondering," she said. "How is it that you
two know the Anything-Goes style? I mean, I thought the Tendou
and Saotome families were the only practitioners."
Natsume sipped her lemonade thoughtfully. "Perhaps it's easier
to show you than to tell you. Kurumi, could you please fetch
the scroll?"
The younger of the sisters continued to savage the plate of
pork buns as if it was the only thing in the world.
"Kurumi!" Natsume barked.
Kurumi snapped out of her eating reverie and stared. Her face
was greasy and flecked with bits of pork and cabbage. "Hmm?"
"Please retrieve the scroll and bring it here," Natsume
instructed.
Kurumi eyed the remaining pork buns on the platter, then shot
an angry look at Saotome Genma. The bespectacled man whistled
innocently and pretended not to be paying attention. A low,
feral growl emerged from the young martial artist's throat.
Then, quick as lightning, she stuffed the remaining pork buns
into her mouth. Genma let out a low whimper of disappointment
as Kurumi scampered away, cheeks bulging like a squirrel's.
"Here it is!" she announced a few moments later as she bounded
back into the dojo.
"You did wash your hands before touching it, didn't you?"
Natsume asked.
Her sister nodded vigorously and handed a tightly-wrapped
parchment to Natsume. The elder girl unfastened the ribbon
and rolled open the scroll with deliberate care and reverence.
"We believed this scroll was left to us by our father," she
explained.
"What is it?" Akane asked, craning to get a look.
"The thirty-seven fundamental principles and forms of the
Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts," Natsume said in a low,
respectful voice.
"AAAAARRGGGHH!"
Akane jerked back in surprise at her father's unexpected
scream. The other girls were equally startled, but Saotome
Genma added a wail of anguish of his own.
"What?" Akane gasped. "What's wrong with you two?"
"The memories!" Genma cried. "Oh, the terrible long nights
of horrible suffering and torment!"
"Indeed, Saotome," Tendou Soun wept. "How can we ever forget
the agony we endured? The sight of this scroll," he touched
the thin paper with a fingertip, "brings it all back as if it
were yesterday."
"What happened?" Akane asked, her eyes wide.
"It was years ago," her father explained. "Saotome and I were
still but students together, slaves laboring under the yoke of
the cruel Master. One night, on one of his savage whims, he
commanded us each to transcribe the fundamental principles of
the Anything-Goes school, so they might be preserved for all
time."
"That doesn't sound so terrible," Akane observed.
"You fail to take into account the perverse sadism of the
Master!" her father moaned.
"I wish you'd stop calling him 'the Master,'" she grumbled
irritably.
"Er... yes. Anyway, he wasn't satisfied with simply having
the words on paper. He insisted that a document of such
magnitude must be rendered with absolutely perfect calligraphy.
He took us to a mountain temple, where he chained us to a large
stone and gave us only cold water and rice paste until we
completed the task he set before us."
"The sheer evil of it!" Genma groaned. "Each evening he would
return from his debauchery, reeking of sake, and look upon
our work. If he found even a single flaw in either of our
lettering, he would take both scrolls out and set them on fire
right before our eyes! The Master was..."
"He is NOT the Master!" Akane growled. "If you call him that
again, I'm going to get really angry!"
Genma cringed.
Soun shook his head as tears streamed down his cheeks. "We
lost track of the days and weeks. Autumn turned to winter,
and we shivered in the cold winds, carefully measuring each
stroke of the brush with trembling hands. The art of true
Japanese calligraphy is grueling even under good conditions.
Neither of us were very good at it, but that didn't matter
to the M... er... mean old man."
"Oh come on," Akane said. "I've seen that old pervert's
handwriting. It looks like chicken-scratch!"
"It doesn't matter!" Saotome Genma insisted. "Just because
he couldn't letter a legible note to save his life didn't stop
him from forcing US to become expert calligraphers to suit his
whims. Since when did the Ma... the uh... the martial artist
formerly known as the Master... ever practice what he
preached?"
Natsume stared at the scroll before her in wonder. "We've
had it all this time, but we never knew about any of that,"
she said.
"Say, Saotome," Tendou Soun commented as he examined the
scroll. "This is the scroll you made, isn't it?"
Genma rubbed the back of his neck and waved in denial. "Ha
ha! Can't be, Tendou. That one must be yours."
"I don't think so, Saotome," Soun said. "I still have mine
locked away. And this is your semi-cursive style. I remember
it clearly."
Genma made of show of examining the scroll and laughed
nervously. "Oh yes! So it is. Well, how do you like
that?"
"How'd they end up with a scroll you made?" Akane asked.
"Oh well... you see... uh," Genma scratched his head and
wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. "Oh yes! The Ma...
monstrous old goat took my scroll from me after I was
finished. Yes, I remember now. He must have left it with
these two girls when he was posing as Tendou. Heh..."
"We suspected that was probably what happened," Natsume said
with a sigh. "Well, it doesn't matter. The scroll has been
our most precious possession since we where orphaned. That's
how we learned the style of Anything-Goes martial arts."
"It's amazing that you learned to fight so well from a scroll,"
Kasumi commented.
"You had to have some training along the way," Akane said. "I
mean, you both use weapons. That's not a part of Anything-Goes."
"We have learned from different masters over the years,"
Natsume agreed. "Anything-Goes martial arts is an omnivorous
style, meant to absorb and incorporate techniques from other
schools. Hasn't your Ranma learned many of his techniques
elsewhere?"
"Well, that's true."
Natsume nodded. "So we've trained wherever we could, in
order to expand our skills and the Anything-Goes school.
For instance, we both trained under a master who taught the
Elements of the Soul."
"Elements of the Soul?" Akane repeated. "What's that?"
Natsume sipped her lemonade thoughtfully. "According to the
principle of the Elements of the Soul, each person has a
natural affinity for one of the four elements of water, air,
earth and fire. By focusing on the element that is most akin
to your own soul, you can strengthen the connection to that
force and draw forth your own power."
"And that's how you two learned your special attacks?"
"Yes. Kurumi's element is fire. You can see how it fits her
personality. Her energy and bright spirit are a natural fit.
She even has an appetite like a burning flame. My element is
air - the cold counterpart to my sister's flame."
"It was easy to tell," Kurumi piped up.
"How?" Akane asked.
"Because she pees ice cubes," Kurumi asserted.
Her timing was exquisite. She managed to catch both Tendou
Soun and Saotome Genma in the middle of long sips of lemonade.
The two elder martial artists snorted in surprise and sprayed
lemonade out of their noses. Both groaned and clutched their
faces, their nostrils burning with citric acid, and did painful
little dances at the edge of the mat.
Natsume remained unruffled. "An exaggeration, I assure you."
Kurumi grinned at Akane, who found herself giggling. "Every
once in a while, you can catch her off guard. You just gotta
keep looking for your opportunity."
"I'll remember that," Akane said, then laughed again. "You
ready to spar some more?"
"Yeah!" Kurumi bounced back to her place on the mat.
"Now, don't go easy on me," Akane instructed.
"Easy?"
"Hit as hard as you can when you have an opening," she
explained. "I have to keep pushing myself or I'll never get
better."
Kurumi rubbed her knuckles unconsciously and shrugged. "Okay,
whatever you say."
"Let's go!"
The two girls circled each other as their spar began again.
Kurumi began to sing once more:
"Don't get cocky, it's gonna get rocky,
We're gonna move down to the next, ya jockey now..."
- - - - - -
The world shifted gently around him, a rhythmic sway that
held him in its comforting embrace. Ryouga could feel the
aches of his wounded body, but they seemed far away and
inconsequential. He hadn't been given the opportunity to
enjoy too many moments of real peace in his life - he liked
to savor them when they did come.
"Hey, I think he's awake! Ryouga?"
Of course, they never lasted.
A hand shook him gently on the shoulder, drawing fully back
to consciousness. He blinked and turned his head slowly to
take in his surroundings. He was a little disoriented to
realize that the world was still swaying, until his beleaguered
mind finally made the connection.
"We're on a boat," he whispered. His voice was as dry as burnt
parchment, an unrecognizable croak which rubbed his throat raw
when he spoke.
"Here, sugar," as soothing voice said. "Drink some water."
She slid her hand under his head and propped him carefully up,
tilting a cup to his lips. The trickle of water down his
throat was pure, cool relief.
He worked his way up to his elbows and took the cup. "Thanks,"
he said, in a voice that sounded a little more like his own.
Ukyou gave him a lingering, tender smile.
"Hey man," Ranma said as he knelt down beside him. "You're
lookin' better. How do ya feel?"
Ryouga's stomach answered before he did in a loud, rumbling
gurgle. "Hungry," he said.
"Well, I can take care of that!" Ukyou laughed. "One special
strength-building okonomiyaki coming right up."
"I ain't surprised," Ranma said, nodding. "You really burned
out your energy reserves with that stunt. Still, I gotta
admit, that was pretty smart."
The lost boy gave him an ironic look. "You're calling me
smart?"
Ranma shrugged. "First time for everything, I guess. I
shoulda thought of that myself. How'd you figure out how
to do that meteor-swarm thing?"
"Heh. I didn't. It just sort of happened." Ryouga drained
his cup and refilled it from the water flask. "Pretty cool,
though."
"Maybe you can work on that as some sort of new technique if
you have to fight that thing again," Ukyou suggested as she
brought him his food.
"I don't think I'll be fighting it anymore," Ryouga said with
a sigh.
"Hey, why not?" Ukyou looked concerned. "You can't be giving
up now. I mean, you found a defense against that water
attack..."
"It won't work again," Ryouga said with absolute certainty.
"Why not?"
"He's right," Ranma said. "If there's one thing about the
Reikoku, it's that the same trick never works twice. It'll
come up with somethin' to counteract Ryouga's heat aura if he
tries it again."
"Like what?" Ukyou asked.
"Probably a really powerful water stream that can punch
through the aura," Ryouga suggested glumly.
"If Ryouga tried that against me," Ranma said, "I'd use the
Hiryu Shoten-ha technique. That monster might do somethin'
similar. With all the heat he puts off, it'd knock him clear
back to Tokyo."
"It'd be one way to get back without taking a plane," Ryouga
mused with a grim chuckle.
"Or," Ranma continued, "it'd just hold out until his aura gave
way. Remember, it gets a lot tougher every time. Ryouga
couldn't have gone on much longer this time... if he tried
it again, that thing'd just wear him down until he couldn't
protect himself anymore."
"Oh," Ukyou said in a small voice. "I see."
Ranma clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't let it get you
down, Ucchan. You're right about one thing - we oughta be
able to figure out some new attacks based on that heat-aura
trick. I already got an idea..."
"It won't do ME any good," Ryouga grumbled. "So long as I
turn into a pig, I won't have a chance against that monster
again! Damn it!"
An amazed expression crept its way across Ranma's features.
"I can't believe it," he whispered.
"What?"
"What a dumbass I've been!" he exclaimed, slapping himself on
the forehead. "We've been in China this whole time and we
never even thought of it."
Ryouga realized what he was saying. His heart began to race
with excitement. "Do... do you know how to get there?"
Ranma grinned. "You bet your ass I do!"
"What?" Ukyou asked, bewildered. "Where?"
"Jusenkyou," Ranma said. "We're gonna go find a cure."
- - - - - -
continued in part two...From graysont@rigroup.net Tue Apr 27 12:31:37 1999
Received: Listar v0.114a - handled for list ffml
Received: from pluto.rigroup.com (pluto.rigroup.com [204.233.70.9])
by ffml.fanfic.com (8.8.7/8.8.7) with ESMTP id MAA20989
for <ffml@fanfic.com>; Tue, 27 Apr 1999 12:31:33 -0400
Received: from armitage ([207.225.107.254]) by pluto.rigroup.com
(Netscape Messaging Server 3.6) with SMTP id AAA1657E
for <ffml@fanfic.com>; Tue, 27 Apr 1999 11:26:54 -0500
Received: by armitage with Microsoft Mail
id <01BE9097.66064160@armitage>; Tue, 27 Apr 1999 10:19:13 -0600
Message-ID: <01BE9097.66064160@armitage>
From: Grayson Towler <grayson@rigroup.net>
To: "'FFML'" <ffml@fanfic.com>
Subject: [FFML] [Ranma] [Fanfic] Relentless - Chapter 8 (part two)
Date: Tue, 27 Apr 1999 10:19:12 -0600
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
X-archive-position: 12834
X-listar-version: Listar v0.114a
Sender: ffml-bounce@fanfic.com
X-original-sender: grayson@rigroup.net
Precedence: bulk
X-list: ffml
...continued from part one.
- - - - - -
Akane attacked her breakfast with angry ferocity. Another
morning, another training session with that damned stone, and
still she couldn't find the breaking point. Dr. Tofu had
instructed her to be patient, to focus her concentration and
look with her mind's eye, but it wasn't doing any good.
She wondered if she should just be satisfied with the increase
in strength and endurance she'd enjoyed from the regimen.
After all, that was the ultimate goal of the bakusai ten-ketsu
training - the thing with blowing up the rocks was neat but of
limited value in a fight. Akane could take a hit from the
boulder in stride now without even being knocked unconscious.
Was there any point in continuing to abuse herself if she'd
already gotten what she wanted?
"Let's see," Natsume said from across the table. "'Cooking
and Catering Magazine.' Is that for you, Kasumi?"
"Er..." Nabiki spoke up. "Actually, that's mine."
"Ah. Here you go."
Natsume had taken to sorting through the morning mail before
they headed off to school. She and her sister had both gone
out of their way to accept chores and responsibilities around
the household. It was clear that they were determined not to
be perceived as freeloaders by anybody. If there was any
complaint, it was that they were a little too earnest
sometimes.
"A request for a contribution to the Nerima Public Works
Corps," Natsume announced.
"Oh, I'll handle that one," Kasumi said.
"Mmm, this is interesting," Natsume commented as she opened
the next letter. "It's an invitation to a martial arts
tournament."
Kurumi perked up. "A tournament?"
"Yes." The tall girl studied the letter thoughtfully. "It
looks like it's being held on a secluded island somewhere in
the Pacific."
"Really?" Kurumi gasped. "A tournament on a secluded island?
Oh wow... it's got to be run by some sort of crimelord. No, a
sorcerer! No, a GOD! A demon god from another dimension!
Only the winner of the tournament can stop the demon god from
entering our world and enslaving humankind!" She hopped to
her feet and paced around the dining room energetically. "Are
we up to this? We're going to be facing elite martial artists
from all over the world, and the foul servants of the
underworld, and the awesome power of the demon god itself!
Do two girls from Japan really have the strength to save the
world? Such a huge responsibility on such young shoulders!
Natsume!" The young girl gasped in excitement and terror.
"What are we going to do?"
"Oops," Natsume said calmly. "I misread that. The tournament
is being held at the local youth center."
Kurumi's jaw dropped. Natsume gave Akane a small, sly wink.
"You... you... you did that on purpose!" the little martial
artist spluttered, shaking an accusing finger at her sister.
She stalked about in circles, flailing her arms angrily.
"Oooh! Meanie! Meanie meanie meanie!"
Natsume ignored her sister's paroxysms of indignant rage and
studied the letter a bit longer. "The tournament's in a
little over a month. I suspect at least one of us should
probably go. Good publicity for the dojo."
"I hope to be gone by then," Akane said.
"Oh? Do you think you're close to mastering the breaking
point?" Natsume asked curiously.
Akane fiddled with her chopsticks a bit. "I don't know. I
think maybe I've gotten as much out of this training as I
can."
Kurumi's wrath dissipated almost instantaneously. "Maybe
you're not an earth person," she said.
"What?"
Natsume cleared her throat. "The technique you're learning
sounds like something from the earth element, according to
the Elements of the Soul school. If your natural affinity
doesn't lie with the earth, then it may be much harder for
you to learn."
Kurumi took her place at the table. "I thought for sure you
were an earth," she said.
"Why?" Akane asked.
"Well, you're really strong and stuff. And you've got a lot
of willpower. That seems like an earth person to me," she
explained.
<A macho, stubborn tomboy is how Ranma would have put that,>
Akane thought, but she found herself feeling very pleased by
Kurumi's words. "Thanks," she said.
"Oh!" Kasumi exclaimed. "Perhaps that explains your difficulty
with learning to swim, Akane."
"She can't swim?" Natsume asked.
"Sinks like a block of granite," Nabiki observed dryly.
"See?" Kurumi said. "I think you're an earth person. I wonder
what your Ranma is? I wish we'd gotten to see him fight some
more. He's so fast and adaptable... probably water, wouldn't
you say, sis?"
"He's dense enough to be rock sometimes," Nabiki pointed out.
Natsume shook her head. "The Elements of the Soul school isn't
meant to classify people into four distinct personality types,"
she said. "It isn't always easy to tell where a person's
affinity lies, or how strong that affinity is. Kurumi and I
practice the techniques, but we're not masters. I don't think
either of us are really qualified to make these sorts of
determinations."
Kurumi sighed. "I guess so."
"A true student of the school starts with their strongest
element," explained Natsume, "but that doesn't mean you stop
there. The master who taught us the Elements of the Soul had
spent long years of study and practice to develop an affinity
for all four elements."
"He must have been very wise," Akane said.
"She was." Natsume smiled as she spoke. "In any case, Akane,
we aren't masters, but maybe we can help you anyway. Why don't
we start going with you to your training exercises?"
"Come if you like," Akane said, gripping her chopsticks in her
hand and thinking about the rock again. "I don't care if I'm
an earth person or not, though. I don't care what it takes.
I won't give up until I finish the training." The chopsticks
snapped in half. She barely noticed.
The phone rang.
"Hello?" Kasumi answered. "Oh my! Ranma!"
Akane's heart soared. <He's alive!> "Ranma!"
"It's so good to hear from you," the eldest Tendou said. "Are
you well?"
Akane rushed to the phone and bounced anxiously on the balls of
her feet. She strained to hear the sound of his voice coming
across the wire.
"How amazing!" Kasumi said. "Ranma, I think Akane wants to
talk to you." She extended the receiver towards her youngest
sister.
Akane took the phone in trembling hands. "Ranma?"
"Hey, Akane. How's it goin'?"
She felt her knees go weak. She leaned against Kasumi for
support. Tears were trickling down her cheeks, everybody was
watching her, but she didn't care. It was so very, very good
to hear his voice again. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I've been
working really hard."
"Yeah? Listen, I'm sorry we ain't called for so long. That
stupid Pantyhose ran off and left us stranded in the middle of
the Himalayas. I shoulda never trusted that guy."
"But you're okay? The monster..."
"We got a good lead on it again," he said. "Ryouga fought it
a second time. Heck, even I was impressed!"
"Is he okay?"
"Sure, he's fine. We're all trainin' pretty hard in case we
meet it again. Has Nabiki been keepin' track of the old
goat?"
Akane looked towards her short-haired sister. "They want
to know about Happosai."
"Uh..." Nabiki twiddled her thumbs. "Well, it hasn't been
easy..."
"I think we lost him, Ranma," Akane said. "I'm sorry."
"Ah, don't worry about it," Ranma told her. The easy
confidence in his voice made her heart ache. "He can't hide
forever."
Akane was proud that she could keep the trembling out of her
voice. If Kasumi let her go, she'd probably fall into a heap
on the floor. Still, some part of her kept the conversation
going. "Hey Ranma, do you remember Natsume and Kurumi?"
"Uh... oh yeah! What about 'em?"
"They're living here now. They're helping..." she'd started
to tell him that they were training her, but she wasn't ready
to talk about that yet. She didn't want to listen to him tell
her to stay away. "They're helping Daddy teach lessons at the
dojo."
"You're old man's giving lessons again?"
"You don't have any objections, do you?"
He sounded confused. "Why would I?"
Akane giggled. "You're the Master now, remember?"
Ranma laughed. "Oh yeah! No, I ain't got no problem with
that. Heh..."
"I really miss you, Ranma," Akane heard herself say.
Ranma let out an embarrassed cough. "Uh... well, yeah. Me
too."
She smiled and cradled the phone to her ear. "I'd better go,
Ranma. School's about to start soon."
"Yeah, I don't wanna make you late," he said. "Hey, give
Kuno a boot to the head for me, okay? Y'know, for old time's
sake."
"I will," she promised. "You take care, Ranma. I'm glad
you're all right."
"Was there any doubt?" he boasted, and she could hear the
smile in his voice.
"Dummy," she said back, but the word felt sweet on her lips.
"I'll see you soon," she said.
"You bet!" he answered, not realizing what she really meant.
"Take care, Akane."
"'Bye, Ranma."
"'Bye."
Akane handed the receiver back to Kasumi so she could hang it
up. She clutched her big sister and let the tears flow.
"He's alive," she whispered to herself, buried in Kasumi's
warm embrace. "He's alive."
- - - - - -
"How was your meal, sir?"
The middle-aged gentleman handed his plate back to Nabiki and
wiped a few crumbs from his mouth with a napkin. "The sauce
was very delicious," he said. "But I think it may have been
a little undercooked in the middle."
Nabiki bowed slightly and sighed. <I had a feeling that would
happen,> she thought. <Didn't pour the batter evenly enough.>
"Sorry about that, sir. I'll give you a refund on your meal."
The man in the business suit gave her a genial smile and waved
his hand dismissively. "Oh no, that's not necessary. Really,
it was very good."
<He's nice,> Nabiki thought. She'd learned never to
underestimate the value of a good customer, and nice people
tended to be best for business. <Gotta make sure he comes
back.> "Well, tell you what, sir. How about I give you a
twenty percent discount on your next meal?"
"I see," he said. "How can I pass up an offer like that?"
Nabiki produced a small pad and pen from her apron. "Let me
just get your name so we'll be sure to remember."
"Sugiyama," he said, giving the slightest of bows.
"Tendou Nabiki, at your service," she said with a cocky twirl
of her pen. "Okay, then Sugiyama-san, we've got you down for
that discount. And it applies to any guests you bring in next
time, too. Maybe a good idea for an office party, hmm?" She
winked and gave him a thumbs-up.
The gentleman laughed. "Maybe so, Tendou-san. Or perhaps I'll
just bring my family."
"Sounds good to me! We'll see you again soon, Sugiyama-san."
She watched the tall man make his way out of the restaurant.
<Score one for me,> she thought with satisfaction. She allowed
herself to enjoy the moment before returning to the tasks before
her. A customer had phoned in a fairly sizeable order in advance
and would be by to pick up the food in about ten minutes. <Soba
noodles. I hate it when they want soba noodles. They always
seem to cook funny when they've got noodles on them.> The
Tendou girl took a deep breath and began to prepare the
batter.
Just as she was pouring the first okonomiyaki, she heard the
sound of someone entering the restaurant. At the same moment,
the phone began to ring. Her chest tightened a bit with
anxiety - she could handle individual tasks around the
restaurant just fine, but she tended to make mistakes when
everything started happening at once.
"I'll get it, Nabiki-san!"
She sighed with relief. It was just Konatsu coming back from
his break. "Thanks, Konatsu," she called without looking up
from the griddle.
"Well, it is nice to see you again, Tendou Nabiki," came a
familiar, creaky voice.
Nabiki looked up in surprise. Cologne sat on a stool
directly across from her, wooden staff leaning up against the
counter. It was creepy how that old woman could get so close
to you without making any noise.
"Uh... hi there," Nabiki greeted her warily.
"Ucchan's Okonomiyaki," Konatsu said as he answered the phone.
"No, I'm very sorry, we no longer do delivery. Yes, I
understand. We had to stop in order to ensure the quality
of our food. I apologize."
Nabiki stiffened defensively as she kept her eyes on Cologne.
She recalled her own puffed-up boasting about the imminent
success of Ucchan's delivery business last time the old
Amazon had come to visit. Was the ghoul going to take the
opportunity to rub her nose in it now? She sucked her breath
through clenched teeth.
"However," Konatsu continued, "if you bring that delivery
flier in to the restaurant, you can redeem it as a voucher
for a free meal. Hmm? Yes, for your whole family. You
will? Wonderful! Yes, I can give you directions. Where
would you be coming from?"
Cologne gave Nabiki a hard look as Konatsu continued talking.
"So, this is your solution for your failure? Giving away food
for free?"
Nabiki crossed her arms and looked defiant. "It keeps them
from being ticked off about the delivery thing. And it gets
them to come here and eat."
Cologne made a disparaging noise. "What good are customers
who don't pay? You might as well throw your profits out the
window!"
"If they like the food, they'll come back," Nabiki shot back
angrily. "If not, then there's nothing else we can do! What
would YOU have done?"
Cologne kept her gaze locked with Nabiki's for a long moment.
Then, to Nabiki's surprise, the old woman broke into a broad
smile. "Why, I would have done exactly the same thing. Not
bad, Tendou Nabiki. Not bad at all."
Nabiki stared at the Amazon for a moment, then began to
laugh. "You... you had me going there, granny!"
Cologne eyed the okonomiyaki sizzling on the grill. "Better
flip that, girl."
"Whoa! Damn!" She turned her attention back to cooking.
Fortunately, the pancake hadn't begun to burn.
"I'll be back in just a second, Nabiki-san!" Konatsu called.
Nabiki spared a quick glance his direction, and noticed for
the first time that he was carrying around a bulky cardboard
box. She could hear the soft rustle of the contents shifting
within as Konatsu carried it.
"What's that?" she asked.
Cologne answered instead of the ninja. "Oh, just a little
present from me."
"A present?" Nabiki asked curiously.
"A personal matter between Konatsu and myself," Cologne said.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself about, young lady."
"I'll take over now, Nabiki-san," Konatsu said as he skipped
back into the room. A few days rest had completely restored
his energy and vitality, but Nabiki didn't intend to take any
more chances with her cook's health. She insisted that he
stick to a reasonable schedule now, and she made sure he took
his breaks every day. That meant she had to fill in for him
at the grill for brief periods of time, of course. She knew
that she still wasn't much of a cook, and she'd probably never
be in the same league as Konatsu, but she was competent enough
to mind the store for half an hour during the slow times.
Nabiki handed the spatula over with exaggerated ceremony.
"The kitchen is yours, Konatsu."
The pretty ninja giggled and gave her a deep, formal bow.
"My thanks to you, Nabiki-san."
Nabiki strolled around to the other side of the counter and
began to clean up after the diners. Her duties around the
shop involved answering the phone, taking orders, and tidying
up. Early evenings on the weekdays were generally pretty
slow, but she wanted to make sure everything was ready for
the dinner crowd.
Cologne watched her with interest. "You've become quite
diligent, Tendou Nabiki. I wasn't sure you had it in you."
Nabiki adjusted the ribbon which held her hair back and
shrugged. The praise made her oddly self-conscious. "Yeah,
well, it's not like this place is raking in the dough. I've
been looking at the old books. This time last year the store
was making a lot more than we are now, and it was just Ukyou
running the place by herself."
The ancient martial artist chuckled. "Yes, I'd say you're
doing just fine."
Nabiki didn't quite know what to make of that. "I guess I
should apologize for being so rude to you last time. I
should've figured you'd know what it took to run a
restaurant. I just didn't think... uh..."
"That a strange old country woman from China would really know
anything about business?" she suggested.
"Yeah, something like that."
"It's a lot easier than some things," Cologne assured her.
"Good food, good service, and a little luck are all that's
really required."
"What, no secret Amazon business techniques?" Nabiki joked.
"Heh. No, I'm afraid not. Just a few old recipes. You
don't see us brainwashing our customers with herbal shampoo
in order to make them come back."
"Now that's an idea," Nabiki mused. "Free hair treatment
with every meal. And with a few subliminal suggestions...
hmm, that has potential. Don't suppose you'd be willing to
teach me how to use that stuff?"
"I'm afraid not," Cologne said with a roll of her eyes.
Nabiki shrugged and grinned. "Didn't think so. Oh well."
"Well, I must be on my way, Tendou Nabiki." The old woman
hopped onto the end of her staff. "I'm glad to see this
place is doing better. You treat Konatsu with respect,
dear." Cologne leaned close and dropped her voice. "He
has quite a crush on you, my girl."
"Hey!" Nabiki said indignantly.
The Amazon matriarch cackled and bounded out of the
restaurant.
"Something wrong, Nabiki-san?" Konatsu asked.
The ninja was looking at her with innocent, adoring eyes. He
wore his heart on his sleeve - Nabiki had been aware of how
he felt for some time now. She'd been scornful at first, but
now she felt curiously flattered.
<He's hardly the sort of person I picture myself ending up
with,> she thought. She'd always hoped to find someone who
could match her in intellect and deviousness, someone who
would be a constant challenge. Her idea of the ideal
relationship had always involved a tremendous ongoing power
struggle - with herself emerging as the victor more often
than not, of course.
On the other hand, she had to admit that there might be some
real advantages in someone like Konatsu. There would be no
power struggle - Konatsu was far too meek and submissive to
want to clash with her. But maybe it would be nice to have
the support and devotion of someone with Konatsu's infinite
capacity for loyalty. After all, a woman in the business
world had enough challenges in her way without having to look
for more in a partner. Certainly Konatsu would never try to
hold her back with some sort of antiquated garbage about a
woman's place being in the home. There was a real strength
to him, in spite of his unassuming nature. It might be
awfully nice to be able to rely on that strength for support
when times got tough...
Nabiki brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. What
was she thinking? Could she have seriously been considering
going out with Konatsu, a cross-dressing martial-arts weirdo?
"Nabiki-san?" Konatsu called again, his voice tinged with
concern.
"I'm fine, Konatsu," she assured him. He beamed at her
happily and returned to his work. Nabiki shook her head
slowly and chuckled to herself, polishing the surface of the
table until she could see her reflection in its surface.
- - - - - -
"Ranchan? You ready?"
"Just a sec."
Ukyou stood back and watched curiously as Ranma knelt before
the kindling. It was his turn to get the campfire going
tonight, but he had yet to unpack the matches. Ukyou hoped
he hurried up - she was eager to get on with her training this
evening.
His eyes were clenched shut, his brow furrowed in
concentration. Ryouga sat opposite him, watching intently.
Ranma took a deep breath, then slowly extended his right hand
towards the dry wood and twigs. What confused Ukyou was that
he was holding a pinecone in the other hand, cradled in his
palm.
Suddenly, Ranma opened his eyes and let out a low, powerful
bark. His aura flared to life in an instant, so bright and
hot that Ukyou had to squint and turn away. He plunged his
right hand into the dry kindling, which burst into flame.
The pinecone in his left hand also began to smolder and
spark.
"Whoah, Ranchan!" Ukyou exclaimed. "Starting a fire with
your bare hand? Not bad."
Ranma nodded and regarded the blaze. "Got the idea from
him," he said, gesturing absently at Ryouga. "I ain't used
to gettin' all fired up like that, but I figured I could swing
it if I concentrated."
"I don't see why you'd need to do that to fight the Reikoku,"
Ryouga observed.
"I wouldn't," he agreed. "I dunno if I could sustain that
kind of hot aura like you do even if I wanted. But here's
something you can't do."
Ranma tossed the smoking pinecone into the fire, then cupped
his right hand and poured a small quantity of water into it
from their drinking flask. He shifted his position a little
bit, focused his concentration, and thrust his left hand into
the crackling flames.
Ukyou gasped in shock. "Ranchan!"
The flames immediately vanished, as if snuffed out by a sudden
burst of strong, cold wind. Ranma's hand wasn't even singed.
He inspected the water in his right hand, which had frozen into
a small chunk of ice.
Ryouga stared in surprise, then a look of comprehension crossed
his face. He snapped his fingers. "The Soul of Ice technique!
I get it."
"Yep," Ranma affirmed.
"I remember," Ukyou said. "It's the same thing you do when
you use that Hiryu Shoten-ha thing. I'm impressed that you
can go from hot to cold so quickly! That's really incredible
control, Ranchan."
"Control's what I'm tryin' to work on," he told her. "If I
can get a better handle on controllin' my aura like that, I
think I can do some really interestin' things."
"Like what?"
He shrugged. "Depends. We'll see how it goes." He
concentrated again, then re-ignited the campfire with his
right hand. "Okay, Ucchan. Time to get to work."
In spite of the increased urgency of their pace, they'd still
found time to continue with their training. When they were
traveling by boat or train, they made a point of coming up
with drills and exercises that they could practice within the
limited confines of whatever vehicle they were using at the
time. So long as they managed to keep a decent lead on the
Reikoku, they could afford to spend a few hours each day on
serious sparring and special training.
Ukyou found herself constantly amazed by the spars between
Ranma and Ryouga. With Ryouga's speed improving from the
Amaguriken training, he was really starting to push Ranma
every time they fought. Both of them were experimenting with
new fighting styles, trying to break their old patterns and
come up with new ways to attack and defend. When they fought,
they barely held back, laying into each other with a reckless
savagery that seemed truly dangerous.
But they knew what they were doing, and they never got hurt.
Part of Ukyou was glad that they didn't train as hard with
her, but mostly she found it frustrating. Still, it wasn't
like they neglected her training. Ranma focused on improving
her barehanded fighting technique (which needed a lot of work),
while Ryouga helped her increase her strength and power.
Ukyou still hoped that they'd find Happosai, and that they'd
never have to put their training to the test against that
monster again. But it would be crazy to not prepare for the
worst.
In the meantime, Ranma still had her doing the spatula-throwing
regimen. Ukyou had stopped trying to guess what the ultimate
purpose behind this was, especially since Ranma was otherwise
so adamant about teaching her to fight without her weapons.
She'd always considered herself skilled with her throwing
spatulas, but the extent to which she'd improved over the
past couple of weeks astonished her. Even the blindfold
didn't hurt her accuracy anymore.
"We're goin' all out tonight," Ranma warned her as he jogged
into position across the clearing, a bulging sack of pinecones
rustling in his hand. "Think you can keep up with me, Ucchan?"
Ukyou tightened her blindfold and adopted a ready stance.
"Let's go!"
Ranma was true to his word - he began to cast the pinecones
into the air at a blistering pace, faster than he'd ever gone
before. Ryouga tossed the throwing spatulas to her at an
equally frantic rate, orbiting her in an erratic semicircle
to force her to compensate for the trajectory of each incoming
weapon. Ukyou managed to pluck six of the spatulas out of the
air and throw them before she lost the rhythm, and the gleaming
weapons clattered to the ground.
"I told you, we're goin' all out," Ranma called to her.
"You can do it, Ukyou-san," Ryouga encouraged her as he
recovered the throwing spatulas. "Let your body focus on the
task. Don't think about it, just do it."
"Don't think about it," she repeated. She took a deep breath
and readied herself again.
"Your body knows what to do," Ryouga assured her. "Are you
ready?"
She nodded, and cleared her mind.
The dance began again, and lasted almost twice as long before
she faltered. The third time, she managed to catch all her
spatulas and hit her targets, but was shocked when a spatula
came hurtling from Ranma's direction. She barely managed to
catch it.
"Ranchan?" she called. "What're you doing?"
"You're too used to stoppin' when we're outta spatulas," he
instructed. "Once you finish throwin' 'em all, me and Ryouga
are gonna switch off. He'll throw your targets, I'll throw
your weapons."
"We're going to switch back and forth at random," Ryouga
informed her. "Don't try to predict it. Just let your hands
react. Trust yourself, Ukyou-san."
"Here we go!" Ranma shouted, not waiting for her to prepare.
And so it went, back and forth and back again, her spatulas
whistling through the air from every directions. She struggled
to keep up with the frenzied pace that the two martial artists
were setting, catching and throwing, catching and throwing.
Sweat poured down her face, her heart thundered in her chest,
yet still the spatulas kept flying, and she did not let them
drop. Each pinecone that Ryouga or Ranma cast into the air
landed in two pieces by the time it hit the ground.
She blocked out her fatigue - she could feel the weariness in
her shoulders and fire in her lungs, but the pain was far away
and irrelevant. She knew only the sounds of her targets and h
er weapons as they flew, the feel of the spatulas in her hands
as she held them for a brief instant before launching with
deadly precision. The dance of steel and motion held her in
its grasp, carried her along in its frantic rhythm until she
forgot all pain, all time, all thought.
Then something shrieked through the night, and Ukyou swooned
in sudden, inexplicable disorientation.
"What was that?" she gasped. "Ryouga? Ranchan?"
She clawed at her blindfold and tore it away from her face,
staring frantically about and trying to understand what had
just transpired. Ryouga was standing off to her left, one of
her throwing spatulas attached to a long string in his hand.
Ranma stood in front of her, watching the embers of a
demolished pinecone drift lazily to the ground. Both of them
were grinning at her.
"What? Guys...?" Ukyou stared at the remains of the pinecone.
"What happened?"
"You did it," Ryouga said. His voice was full of pride. "You
really did it!"
"What?" she demanded. "What did I do?"
"On that last throw," Ranma explained, "Ryouga pulled back your
spatula at the last instant. You didn't have a weapon. So
your body reacted, and you made one of your own." He gestured
at the remains of the pinecone.
Understanding slowly crept its way in, but she could scarcely
believe it. "It was... I did a ki-blast? Without realizing
it?"
Ranma nodded. "You bet, Ucchan."
"It was shaped like a spatula," Ryouga revealed.
"It was?" Ukyou blinked and stared at the results of her
handiwork.
"Y'see," Ranma explained energetically, "I figured you could
do somethin' like the attacks that me and Ryouga do, but I had
to think of how to draw it out. I mean, Ryouga gets his off
'heavy ki' - you know depression and anger and stuff - while I
get mine outta confidence."
"Ego, you mean," Ryouga interrupted.
Ranma ignored him. "But I didn't think you could do it the
same way. So the only thing I could think of was how focused
you get when you're really into your cookin'. I thought maybe
if we could get you into that state, really deep into the zone,
we could concentrate it in one single, powerful strike..." He
trailed off, then shrugged. "Guess it worked."
"But Ranchan," she said, spreading her hands pleadingly, "I
don't remember how I did it!"
"Right," he said. "Now, the real proof is if you can do it
again." He held a pinecone up between his thumb and forefinger.
Ukyou fumbled for her blindfold, but Ryouga stopped her. "No,
not this time," he said. "You did it once, it should come
more naturally this time."
"But I don't..." she began.
He cut her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't
worry about it. Just relax and concentrate. You'll
remember."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"No," Ryouga told her. "Don't close your eyes. You don't
want to have to close your eyes every time you do this, do
you?"
"I guess not," she said with a sigh. "Okay, eyes open.
Focus."
At first, Ukyou felt like a complete fool, standing there
staring at the pinecone and trying to remember how to do
something she'd managed by complete accident. She was tired
and sweaty, she wanted to sit down and cool off. But
gradually, as she stared at the pinecone in the dwindling
light, she forgot her weariness once more. She reached back
for the state of mind she'd achieved during the exercise, a
feeling that surged like a raging fire yet was as serene as a
cool mountain lake. She remembered the sounds of the spatulas
in the air, the feeling of her body moving by reflex to catch
her weapons, the absolute certainty of where her targets were
as she made each throw...
Her hand lashed out, almost on its own, and a blinding streak
of green split the night. The pinecone in Ranma's hand
disintegrated in a burst of energy. The ki-spatula streaked
into the canopy of trees, shearing through leaves and branches
in its path.
Ukyou barely kept herself from fainting. Ryouga caught her
before she toppled to the ground.
"Yes! Yes! She did it! I did it!" Ranma shouted
triumphantly. "I AM a good trainer! I can teach martial
arts!"
<So that's what this was all about,> Ukyou thought through her
haze of fatigue. <That's why he worked so hard. He really
does want to become a teacher and take over that dojo.> She
shook her head in denial and tried not to let it get to her,
but she felt so weak, so tired...
"Feh," Ryouga grumbled. "As if he did it all by himself.
Are you okay, Ukyou-san? You're pale."
She nodded and patted him on the shoulder. <I should be
elated,> she told herself. <I just learned a new technique.
What Ranchan said doesn't mean anything.> She forced a smile.
"I'm okay, sugar. Just kinda... worn out, you know?"
He nodded. "You've worked hard today. That kind of technique
takes a lot of energy out of you. The more you practice, the
easier it'll get."
"Hey Ucchan!" Ranma said as he trotted up to meet them. "That
was awesome, huh? Listen, I'll handle dinner tonight. You
just rest up, okay?"
<Rest,> she thought. <That's all I need. I'll feel better
soon. It didn't mean a thing.>
- - - - - -
Akane plowed into the swinging boulder with bone-jarring
force. Her finger cracked the stone where it hit, but the
rock still didn't explode. She'd known it wouldn't - she
still couldn't see the breaking point at all, in her "mind's
eye" or otherwise.
"Again!" she called out.
"Akane! A third time? Are you sure?" Dr. Tofu yelled back
up to her.
"Yes! Again!"
Dr. Tofu shrugged and nodded to the others. While he hauled
on the rope to bring Akane and her harness back to its starting
position, Saotome Genma, Natsume, and Kurumi worked the lines
to bring the boulder back into place. In a minute or so, the
apparatus was ready. Akane could feel the lingering shock from
the previous two collisions with the boulder, but she didn't
care. She glared at the stone with pure, unmitigated hatred.
She yanked the release cord and howled in rage as she slammed
into the boulder once more. Even after the initial impact,
she kept driving her finger into the surface of the stone over
and over, snarling in frustration and wrath. "Break!" she
shouted at the rock. "Break! Break! What's the matter with
you!"
"Akane?" Dr. Tofu sounded concerned.
"This... is INSANE!" she screamed. She didn't wait for the
boulder and the harness to stop swinging - she tore herself
free of the ropes and dropped to the ground with a thud.
"It's NEVER going to work!" she ranted, stomping up and down
and flailing her fists. "It's ludicrous! How can anyone
believe that there's a special place on a rock you can touch
to make it blow up? It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!
There is NO SUCH THING as a breaking point!"
"Akane," Dr. Tofu said gently, wary of her anger. "You said
you've seen Ryouga do this dozens of times. Of course there's
such a thing..."
"I KNOW!" she wailed. Tears of impotent rage trickled unbidden
down her flushed cheeks. "I... I have seen it! But it doesn't
make any sense! I mean... I mean..." Akane choked on her own
words.
"It's okay, slow down," Dr. Tofu soothed. "What do you mean?"
She took a few deep breaths and tried to muster some degree of
composure. "Look," she said, her lips trembling, "How can
there be a magical breaking point? I mean... wouldn't people
hit it just by accident every so often? Just by random chance?
But rocks never explode like that. And Ryouga... I've seen him
do it, but sometimes he misses what he was aiming for. And the
thing he hits STILL explodes! How can he hit a breaking point
that he's not even aiming for?" She held her palms out in a
pleading gesture. "I don't understand!"
Dr. Tofu bowed his head and nodded slightly. "You're right,
Akane."
"I... I am? I know I am! But what does..."
"Let me explain," he interrupted. "I've observed your training
and done some research on the bakusai ten-ketsu technique. I
think I understand how it works. Please, all of you, sit
down."
Akane did as she was told, and the others arranged themselves
in a small circle facing Dr. Tofu. The bespectacled martial
artist took a moment to compose his thoughts before he began
to speak again.
"Just as every person has an aura," he explained, "so too does
every object or substance that exists. It's crucial to
understand that if you wish to know how the bakusai ten-ketsu
works. Not just anyone can hit the breaking point - at random,
as you suggested, Akane. This is true in part because it isn't
really a specific point in space, as you're thinking of it, but
also because a person needs to be prepared to execute this
technique."
He picked up a small stone and held it in front of him. "A
person who undergoes this training becomes stronger against
impacts, yes? It's not just because you're being hit so
often. It's because that, as you search for the breaking
point, your mind unconsciously adapts your aura to be more
like the stone. You literally become more rock-like, and thus
more resistant to damage."
"I see," Natsume said. "So it really is a technique of the
Earth element."
"You can look at it that way, yes," Dr. Tofu agreed. "A
certain level of strength and endurance is required to achieve
this harmony with the stone. Now, once a person reaches that
level, once they bring their battle aura in synchronization
with the natural aura of the stone, they can use their will to
change that aura. In other words, the person commands the
boulder to destroy itself, by achieving a precise harmony with
the stone. That is the true nature of the breaking point."
Akane's eyes were wide. "I get it! I understand that!"
"This is why the breaking point cannot be used against a live
target, even if you were to try it on a brittle surface like
bone or horn. The aura of a living creature is infinitely
more complex than that of an inanimate object. To synchronize
so thoroughly with another living being so that you could
command it to destroy itself..." Tofu shrugged. "Not
possible. You might as well try to drink the ocean."
"Still," Natsume interjected, "the technique wouldn't be
limited to just breaking rocks, would it?"
"That is correct," the doctor agreed. "Akane, you've seen
some of Elder Cologne's battle techniques, haven't you? Many
involve manipulating the environment around her, is that
right?"
"Yes!" Akane affirmed. "I've seen her do sand whirlwinds
and water spouts... and that thing she called the 'Shark
Fist.' It was like a battering ram of water..."
"I believe all these techniques you've seen are outgrowths
of the principle behind the bakusai ten-ketsu," Tofu said.
"Obviously, Elder Cologne is a master of harmonizing with her
environment and making it work for her. The breaking point
may be crude in comparison to some of the things she can do,
but I believe it is the first step into a much wider realm of
mastery."
Akane felt dizzy with excitement. If she could master this
technique, it would open whole new worlds of martial arts to
her... worlds that even Ranma had never explored. "But...
but why don't they just explain that? Why act like the
breaking point is some special spot or something..."
Dr. Tofu tossed the stone in his hand. "The act of harmonizing
your aura in this way is a tremendous feat of concentration.
The conscious mind is far too limited to achieve it. Only the
unconscious spirit can accomplish such a feat. The training
that Cologne used with Ryouga was designed to give him
something to concentrate upon, so he could guide his
unconscious mind to the right path. That is why I haven't
explained this until now."
"I see," Akane said.
"But," he continued, "I think that the training which worked
so well for Ryouga is hindering you. It's created a mental
block which is preventing you from finding the breaking
point." He pushed his glasses back on his nose and looked
concerned. "I'm certain that the Amazons have many different
ways to guide students to learning the breaking point, but I
don't know those teaching methods. So I have no choice but
to educate you in what I understand... and hope for the
best. I fear that telling you all this may undermine your
training, but there seems to be no other choice."
Akane scrambled to her feet, her heart pounding. "You did
the right thing, Dr. Tofu!" she cried as she climbed back up
the tree. "I want to try it again!"
"As you wish, Akane," Dr. Tofu said as the group below began
to reset the apparatus once more.
<Look with your mind's eye,> she told herself. <It's not a
special spot on the rock, that's not what you're looking for.
The breaking point is there. I can find it. I can find it.
Look with your mind's eye.>
She yanked on the rope and felt the familiar rush as she began
her swing. The boulder dropped simultaneously, hurtling into
its wrecking-ball arc towards her, its pocked face growing
larger by the instant. The branches groaned in protest under
the weight of it. Akane howled and drove her finger out
before her to meet the stone.
A loud crack erupted through the forest.
For the first time since she'd climbed into this harness,
Akane completed the arc of her swing. She sailed between the
two halves of the broken boulder as they dropped away towards
the ground.
"She did it!" Kurumi exclaimed.
"No," her sister corrected. "Not yet."
Akane vaulted out of the harness and landed on the ground.
The two halves of the boulder lay on the grass, rocking slowly
as with the remaining inertia from their fall. She couldn't
take her eyes off them. This rock - this thing she'd learned
to hate so fiercely, this vision that had haunted her days and
nights for over two months now - lay broken before her. <I
finally beat you,> she thought to the boulder. <You tried
your hardest to crush me, but in the end you were the one who
broke.>
"I think I hit that old boulder one too many times," she told
Kurumi.
"That wasn't the breaking point?" the small girl asked.
"No," Akane said. As satisfying as it was to have finally
broken through that damnable boulder, she still had work to
do. "I guess we need to find another rock." She turned and
faced the others, her dark eyes burning with determination.
"I'm close. I can feel it. I'm almost there."
- - - - - -
end of chapter eight
-----------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES
-----------------------------------------------------------
An extra-long chapter this time, yet without the extended
delay! What more can anyone ask?
My thanks to my wife, Candi, for helping me come up with
Kiini's fractured koans in this chapter. I tried a few
different versions of that scene involving the schtick
he did in the anime, but they all seemed terrifyingly
dull. Much more fun to make him more of a Buddhist monk,
with a bit of a concussion, of course.
Points for you if you guessed that Kurumi has played
"Parrapa the Rapper." Double points if you can figure
out where Nabiki's customer comes from.
COMING SOON: Akane puts her training to the test, and
we finally understand the true terror of the fiendish plot
of Pantyhose Tarou...
COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko,
and are licensed in America by Viz Communications.
GRT - April 1999
grayson@rigroup.net
All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless