Ranma 1/2 used without permission.
C&C is, as always, welcome and appreciated
Find my other works at http://web.infoave.net/~jedediah
Yes, I finally felt this needed a DARK tag. I'll re-tag the other
five chapters when I get the chance. ^_^
==================================
//Mortals,\\ Karasu thought as he stared down at the sparkling city
of Tokyo. //Don't they know when to quit?\\ From his perch atop the
thirty-story building, the sprawling metropolis seeming almost to stretch
into eternity around him in all directions.
The sounds of mortals reached his ears, floating upward on the chill
breeze that fluttered his hair and cloak. Shouts and car horns sounded
distant from his height, mingled with the sounds of music and other mortal
noises.
//Where are you?\\ Karasu mused as his cold blue eyes swept over the
almost endless expanse of urban development. As he gazed over the cityscape,
Karasu began sorting out his facts.
First, someone was harvesting souls on the Mortal Plane, a feat that
was none too challenging for any talented mortal wizard. So long as he or
she had the proper spells and/or artifacts, soul harvesting was entirely
possible.
And so, that left him with the questions of who and why. A shield
kept his identity secret from even Lord Enma, a fact that hinted at one with
VERY powerful magic.
Karasu ended his current train of thought. He had to find the one
who was harvesting mortal souls, and standing atop a skyscraper mentally
chasing his tail was not going to help him.
Swift as the night breeze, Karasu sailed over the edge of the
building. Cloak and ponytail billowing madly behind him, he rapidly
descended to the earth below. Seconds after leaping, however, his form
shrunk and changed shape dramatically. His cloak shrank and spread into
wings as his descent changed direction. Where a man had leapt into space, a
large black raven soared into the night.
=====================================
//This cannot be possible,\\ Cologne thought as she stared at the
small round dish before her. The room was dimly lit by several candles
placed atop the boxes of supplies and scattered on the floor, their
collective flames causing the shadows of the enclosed space to dance to some
unheard rhythm
Cologne sat in the center of the room, eyes locked on the dish
containing the red fluid. Even as she had thought that it was not possible
for Ranma to have obtained Crimson Dawn, several instances of that damnable
boy performing the impossible leapt to her mind.
But how could he have gotten it? The Ebon Vein, through which
Crimson Dawn flowed, wasn't even on the Mortal Plane. Rather, it was nestled
deep in the territory of one of the lower Demon Planes, guarded by creatures
that could give the best armies of the world today a run for their money in
terms of numbers, firepower, and sheer ferocity. Ranma, tough as he was,
simply could not face such creatures alone and live. Some things even HE
couldn't do.
//Enough,\\ Cologne scolded herself as she produced a small bag from
the left sleeve of her tunic. Just sitting there letting her imagination run
away with her was doing nothing productive. She didn't even know for sure
that this was Crimson Dawn. It could just be some cheap whore perfume and
Akane's sudden cure was only a fluke.
Opening the bag, Cologne reached in with her right hand. The
substance inside felt rough, almost like fine gravel, and left her skin cool
wherever the substance touched it. Pulling her hand free, Cologne brought it
to eye level, carefully examining the pitch-black powder trapped between her
thumb and forefinger. She had to use exactly the right amount, or this would
not work. Satisfied with the amount of powder, she breathed a quick prayer
to whatever Kami happened to be listening and tossed the powder into the dish.
The reaction was as immediate as it was violent. The second the cool
black powder hit the dish of Crimson Dawn, a searing white light filled the
room. Cologne squeezed her eyes shut, covering them with the sleeves of her
tunic as well in an attempt to block out the luminous energy that threatened
to blind her.
A fierce gale blew through the room, tossing about the boxes and
candles as if they were cows in a Kansas tornado. Spices, noodles, even
spare dishes and utensils were flung about by the mystical wind generated by
the powder's rection to the Crimson Dawn.
A keening wail filled her ears as she fought to hold her position, a
sound filled with anguish and rage that invaded her mind and conjured images
of a hell the likes of which even the Kami dreaded.
The conflagration of mystical energy ended as abruptly as it began.
The light faded to black as the wind rapidly lost strength. The agonized
moan faded into silence, leaving only the ringing in Cologne's ears as
evidence that it even existed.
Cologne slowly opened her eyes, the dark void of the storage room
all that greeted them. The scent of mixed spices permeated the air, the
smell almost suffocating. Muttering a curse, she grabbed her ancestral staff
and flipped the light switch with expert precision.
"I'm getting too old for this," Cologne said in disgust as the glare
faded. The boxes of ingredients, once stacked almost meticulously, lay
strewn over every square inch of the storeroom's floor. A thick
browninsh-black haze hung lazily in the air, the floating cloud of dry
spices slowly settling donw to the floor. Knives and assorted other utensils
were scattered amongst the debris, and in some cases embedded in the walls
and rafters. Inspecting her staff, Cologne was startled to find a pair of
chopsticks embedded in the top.
"The texts said NOTHING about this," she whispered as she gazed
about the devastation. In the center of the room, where the small dish once
rested was a charred and smoking hole. A small area of the ceiling above was
also blackened, but still intact. If she had known the reaction would be so
violent, she would have done it elsewhere. Killing the light switch, Cologne
slowly left the storeroom. That fool Mousse would clean it when they returned.
The test, while disasterous, proved without a doubt that the
substance in that vial was indeed Crimson Dawn. Cologne locked up the
Nekohanten for the second time that night, paying no heed to the now-bitter
chill in the air. This was merely a brisk night in the mountains back in
China. Mounting her staff, Cologne set off for her third train ride of the day.
While the test had answered some of her questions, the results had
raised many more. The pieces of this puzzle were now falling into place, but
Cologne was suddenly less certain she would like the big picture.
//Son-in-law\\ Cologne thought, exasperated, //what the hell have
you gotten yourself into now?\\
=========================================
"Any change?" Akane looked up at Nodoka, who stood above her. The
elder woman's face bore an expression of compassion, though traces of pain
and anger were still visible.
"No," Akane replied, returning her gaze to Kasumi's still form. A
nurse had come in earlier to change Kasumi's bandages and empty her waste
bag, Akane's sister not even stirring as she did so.
"I hear Shampoo came in earlier," Nodoka said as she hunched down
next to Akane's chair, all the while wishing that the orderlies had brought
another. Akane's hand reached up to touch the pendant that now adorned her
neck. "Did she give that to you?"
"Yes, auntie," Akane said, releasing the talisman. Something about
the tone of Akane's voice told Nodoka that it was something Akane didn't
want to go into. Nodoka obligingly let it drop. Whatever had happened here,
it must have been personal. Perhaps Akane had sworn secrecy?
"Are you hungry?" Nodoka asked, hoping to get a rise out of the
girl. Akane hadn't eaten lately, she had to be starving.
"No, thank you auntie," Akane said, still staring at Kasumi.
Despite herself, Nodoka felt a flash of irritation. Akane had
sequestered herself in Kasumi's hospital room for the past few days, and
none of the others could bring her out. Nodoka had volunteered to try.
Small talk obviously wasn't working, Akane kept shooting down
Nodoka's attempts at conversation with one-word answers and stonewalling
with her emotions. It was time for the direct approach.
"Akane," Nodoka said, cupping the young girl's chin and turning her
head to face her, "You're not doing any good here." Akane only stared at
Nodoka as she continued.
"Kasumi needs me," Akane said in an even tone. "She didn't abandon
me, and I can't abandon her."
//So that's the reason,\\ Nodoka thought as she released Akane's
chin. Akane kept her gaze on her, a spark of emotion appearing in their
brown depths.
"Your family needs you, too," Nodoka said gently. Nodoka saw the
spark of emotion in Akane's eyes grow as she spoke. Taking a short breath,
Nodoka continued. "This is no time to close yourself off from the others."
"Auntie..."
"No, Akane," Nodoka said, deciding that a little tough love could
only help at this stage, "You can't help Kasumi here. There isn't anything
you can do for her right now."
Nodoka saw the spark of emotion grow, a mix of anger, grief, and
sorrow as fresh tears began to well up in the young girl's eyes.
"That's just it," Akane said, the emotions creeping into her voice.
"I can't help her." New tears began to run down her face as her voice became
less and less steady. "I couldn't help mom... and... I can't... even help
Kasumi." Akane's chest hitched twice as she paused to gather her fading
composure.
"Akane..."
"What good am I?" Akane snapped, bitterness clear in her voice. "I
can't cook, I can't fight, and I can't even protect my own family!" Nodoka
draped her arms around Akane's shoulders, holding the crying girl close to
her. She felt Akane's powerful arms encircle her, squeezing for all they
were worth. "Why did I have to be so worthless?" she said into Nodoka's
shoulder, the kimono muffling her voice.
"You are not worthless," Nodoka said gently as she stroked Akane's
hair. "What happened isn't your fault, and none of us could have stopped it.
"You have to realize that these things happen. What matters now is
that you are there for those you love when they need you. Right now, Kasumi
doesn't need you. The others do." Akane raised her head, gazing into
Nodoka's eyes almost beseechingly.
"R...really?" Akane asked, sniffing once.
"Really," Nodoka confirmed with a small smile. "Let the doctors do
their work. Kasumi is in their hands, now." Akane released her hold on
Nodoka, casting her gaze on the prone form of Kasumi.
The monitors beeped rhythmically in the silence that ensued. Nodoka
kept her eyes on Akane, hoping that her words had gotten through. Though all
she had done was repeat what others had said to her, she hoped that if it
came from an elder figure in her life, it would make a difference. Since the
deat of Akane's mother, Kasumi had stepped in as a surrogate, the older and
wiser sister/mother. Nodoka had hoped that she would see her in enough of
the light she saw Kasumi in to listen to her. However, if this didn't work
then she was fresh out of ideas.
"Auntie Saotome?" Akane asked, turning to look at Nodoka once again.
"Yes, dear?"
"Thanks." For what had to be the first time since this started,
Akane gave a tiny smile of gratitude. The sight of it warmed the elder
woman's heart, and she felt that maybe everything would work out after all.
"Are you ready to go?" Nodoka asked, returnign the small smile.
"Yeah," Akane said softly as she rose from the chair. Stretching
briefly, she took the two steps over to Kasumi's bed. Tenderly, she bent
over the rail and placed a soft kiss atop her sister's head. "Don't leave
me, Kasumi," Akane whispered softly. "Please."
Rising to her full height, Akane rounded the chair, joining Nodoka.
Nodoka placed a hand on Akane's shoulder, and the two left Kasumi's room
toegther.
====================================
//There you are,\\ Ranma thought as he peered from the shadows of
the alley. He could feel his blood thundering through his veins, filling his
ears with an almost deafening roar. Watching that arrogant bastard stride
through all those people as though he had done nothing wrong caused a red
haze to lower over Ranma's vision.
The temptation to just charge out and rip his sorry head off was
almost impossible to resist. He wouldn't have any trouble, and nobody would
recognize him in the old man's stupid getup.
//Don't, Ranma,\\ came the voice he had come to associate with his
concience, //you have to stop!\\
//Quit buggin' me willya?!\\ Ranma mentally shouted in reply.
//Be reasonable, Ranma, do you really think that you can just get
away with killing him right there on the pavement?\\
//You got a point,\\ Ranma conceeded after a short pause.
//FINALLY!\\ the voice replied, //we agree on something! Now let's
just get this cloak off and go home!\\ it finished cheerfully.
//I got it,\\ Ranma thought as he saw his target pause and talk to
two women who were passing by.
//Oh, no,\\ the voice said in horror, //you wouldn't. Please don't,
Ranma.\\
Ranma violently silenced the voice as he doffed his cloak and
gloves. Reaching behind him, he removed the bottle of water he kept tied in
his belt. He was gonna hate himself for this.
Taki, as his friends called him, was notorious as a wannabe ladies'
man. He had hit on every female student at Furinkan while he was there at
least once, and had been shot down on numerous occasions. Nevertheless, he
kept plugging away, hoping that he would run across a girl whose aesthetic
standards weren't ten miles above him.
He wasn't especially attractive, the shaved head and pierced nose
completeing the punk visage. He looked, talked, and acted like any common
thug, and was treated as one.
But all that had changed a few nights ago. He knew the girl he,
Keiici, and Eiji had went on as the sister of one Akane Tendo. Of all the
girls he had tried to date in his life, her refusals had been the most
vehement. And the most violent. She had been the only one who had actually
smacked him around, mainly into the nearest wall, when he made his moves.
If there was one thing he hated, it was being made to look like a
weak fool in front of others and his crew, and by a woman no less. He had
wanted to get back at her, but knew that he couldn't take her in a fight
even with the others behind him. Then that Ranma fellow showed up, and his
prospects for getting even spiralled down to nothing. Afterward he had
graduated from Furinkan, much to the surprise of teachers and family, and
promptly forgot Akane.
However, when he threw the first punch on Kasumi, he knew he was no
longer a thug. He was a felon. And he was getting even with Akane, however
indirectly. Oddly enough, at the time he didn't think that. He wasn't even
sure what he was doing, or why. The more he thought about it, the more
convinced he became of his logic, and he felt no guilt.
"Hey," came a voice from behind him. Turning, his eyes widened a
little as they beheld the girl before him. She was short, her head just up
to his chest. Firey red hair hung down her back in a braided tail, the bangs
slightly obscuring the most intense pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.
"Hey," he replied, putting on his best smooth act. Closing the
distance between them a little, he looked her over. The red blouse and pants
hung loosely on her frame, yet hinted at a well-proportioned body underneath
their folds. She stood before him confidently, almost challenging him.
"What's your name, soldier?" she asked him. Taki was a little
surprised at her bluntness. Most girls he had known weren't this forward. On
the other hand, most girls he knew wouldn't give him the proper time of day.
"Taki," he replied with a grin. "What's yours?"
"Ranko," she said. Taki had the strangest feeling he had seen this
girl before, but for the life of him couldn't figure out where or when.
"Ranko," he repeated in a false dreamy tone, "a beautiful name."
"Sweet-talker," Ranko said with a coquettish giggle. "Wanna buy a
girl something to eat?" she asked as she pointed to a nearby noodle stand.
"Sure," Taki replied in his best suave voice. He might get lucky
tonight after all.
//I think I'm gonna be sick,\\ Ranma thought as she walked across
the street. She deftly maneuvered through the throng of people, the sounds
of Tokyo's nightlife a constant assault on her ears. She shivered slightly
as a chill raced up her spine, the cool breeze and her formerly damp hair
conspiring to give her a cold.
Taki walked slightly behind her, his heavy footsteps oddly in time
with hers. She could feel his eyes roaming over every inch of her, lingering
at her rear from time to time. Ranma couldn't possibly fathom how any girl
could possibly be turned on by that.
Squelching the urge to turn and finish it right then and there, she
walked up to the small counter of the noodle stand and ordered an extre
large ramen bowl with extra broth. The stand was no larger than a travel
trailer, with dishes and prices posted on the sides facing the people on the
street.
The lone cook in the stand set about preparing the bowl, the scent
of cooking noodles overpowering this close to the stand. In minutes, he set
out Ranma's dish and quoted the price.
"It's on me, gorgeous," Taki said as he leaned over her to pay for
the food. Stifiling the gag reflex took an effort of will on Ranma's part
when Taki brushed against her. The urge to kick his balls up to his ears was
even harder to resist, but Ranma held on nonetheless.
//What are you doing?\\ the voice in his mind screamed as Ranma
picked up the bowl of noodles. //This isn't like you!\\
//I've done it before, remember?\\ Ranma mentally snapped back.
//This ain't the first time I pretended to be a girl to get what I want.\\
//That was different!\\ the voice retaliated, //you weren't trying
to kill Ryoga, Kuno, Mousse, or any of the others!\\
//Maybe, but this ain't any different from those times. I'm still
doin' what it takes to get the job done.\\ Ranma replied. Even as Ranma
thought it, however, he knew it didn't seem as sincere as before.
//You're losing yourself, Ranma,\\ the voice warned as it began to
fade into the back of his mind. //You're losing your soul to that old man,
whether you know it or not.\\
"Oh, that's good," Ranma sighed as she took a healthy bite. The dish
was pleasantly warm against her hand as she walked through the crowded
street with Taki uncomfortably close by.
"Mind if I get some?" Taki asked, his eyes continuing to roam over her.
"I was thinking maybe dinner for two," Ranma said as she sidled into
a nearby alley with a sly grin on her face. //I'm really gonna hate myself
for this later,\\ Ranma thought as she stepped back into the shadows.
She hadn't chosen the location at random, like she wanted Taki to
believe. As she moved back, her left hand found the knob of the door leading
into the building beside her.
The stairwell descended into the darkness briefly before coming to
another door. Making sure that Taki was followng, Ranma opened the second
door and entered the room. Once Taki had joined her, she closed off his only
escape route.
"Well," Taki said, somewhat confused, "This sure is private." The
basement was dimly lit by a few bare bulbs that dangled from the ceiling. A
few boxes lay scattered haphazardly across the concrete floor, some
partially obscured by shadows. A chill hung in the air, the kind that sapped
the heat from your very bones and the smell of mildew permeated the air. In
a shadowed corner, Taki could barely make out a large hulking shape that
gave off ticks rhythmically. After a few moments, he realized that it was
only an old-fashioned boiler.
"I wanted us to be alone," Ranko said in a tone that Taki found odd.
Taking shallow breaths, he looked up to the ceiling. Taki could barely see
the outlines of pipes in the shadowed recesses running the length of the
room. A small drop of water hit him in the face, causing him to blink in
surprise.
"So," Taki began nervously as hewiped the drop from his face, "What
do you have in mind?"
"We're gonna play a little game," Ranko said from out of the
shadows.Taki couldn't see her, but could hear the sound of fabric rustling.
More nervous than before, he jumped to the conclusion that she was doffing
her clothes.
"What's it called?"
"It's called surprise," Ranko said as she stepped into the light.
"Okay," Taki drawled as she became visible. A black ninja gi hung
off of her the way her former attire did, a mask covering the lower half of
her face. Her forearms were raised upward as though she were a surgeon
entering an operating room. The light from the ceiling glinted off the metal
discs sewn into the knuckles of the right gauntlet, while the left one held
the bowl of noode broth.
His heart nearly caught when he saw the rage that burned in Ranko's
blue eyes. Preparing for a brawl, his first punch stopped before the fist
formed when she dumped the bowl over her head.
"WHAT THE?!" he shouted as Ranko's form shimmered and changed. Her
body grew taller by almost two heads, the gi and gloves no longer hanging
loosely on her. The hair turned black as Taki realized where he had seen
Ranko before. "Ranma?" he whispered in awe as the now male "Ranko" reached
into the shadows and produced a long, black hooded cloak.
"You got it," Ranma snarled, donning the cloak and adjusting his
gloves. "Surprise!"
Taki didn't even see the first puch that flattened his nose and sent
starbursts across his vision. Before he could shake off the effects, a hail
of punches and kcks slammed into him with inhuman speed and strength.
His brain nearly overloaded from teh sheer number of pain signals
that fired across his nerves. Ribs cracked and broke and blood vessels
ruptured as fists and feet slammed into Taki's body mercilessly.
After what felt like an eternity, a sharp pain surged through his
chest, followed by a deep cold. Taki could feel the blood welling up in his
throat and overflowing out of his mouth as his vision went grey. Taki tried
to scream in fear and pain, but suddeny didn't have the energy. All he
wanted was to close his heavy eyes... and...... sleep.
=========================
A lone raven sat perched on a power line, watching the people moving
through the streets like a living river through a concrete bed. Cold,
impassionate eyes scanned the tide of humans, betraying nothing of the
thoughts and emotions that moved about behind them.
Karasu was a Kami of few words, but what few he had were choice. He
had chosen to remainin his current form, due to the fact that the wings
allowed him to cover more ground with greater speed.
Despite that, he had not found the man he was looking for. Karasu
wasn't surprised, flying about the city at random looking for a man he had
never seen before was foolish at best. Unfortunately, it was the only course
of action available. All Karasu needed was a clue, just one small lead as to
who this man was and where to find him.
Karasu gazed upward in frustration, and his prayer was answered. A
thin beam of pale green light snaked upward into the black depths of the
night sky, twisting and writhing as it ascended. A low, anguished wail
emanated from the escaping soul, the sound reaching Karasu's ears as he
extended his wings and flew to the source of the scream. The mortals below
went about their nightly lives as if all was right with the world, the
sounds of the escaping soul something only few humans the world over could hear.
Karasu approached the soul as it finished rising through the roof of
one of the myriad buildings in the vicinity. So far, all seemed normal with
the soul's passage, even if the end of it's time on the Mortal Plane was a
bit painful, as the screams suggested.
//WHAT?!\\ Karasu mentally shouted when the soul's moans increased
in intensity. Hurriedly slowing his approach, Karasu saw the very air above
the soul warp and twist, tearing itself open to form a vortex directly in
the soul's path. The air currents around the vortex began to swirl,
threatening to overpower Karasu's present form and drag him into the
spinning whirlpool. Desperate to get away, Karasu reclaimed his human form,
the wings and feathers exploding into a black cloak. as he dropped to the
roof of a building not far below.
Karasu looked upward in anxiety as the sould was sucked into the
vortex. It's pained screams faded into nothingness as the vortex closed, the
air regaining it's rightful dimentions and the winds dying almost instantly.
======================
//He was definitely in here,\\ Karasu thought as he walked into the
poorly lit basement. The quality of the light did less to affect his vision
than it probably did for the poor dead mortal that lay crumpled on the floor.
The smell of blood mixed with old mildew had assaulted Karasu's
nostrils before he had even set foot in the basement. Karasu gazed at the
limp corpse, a sizeable red stain pooling on the floor beneath it. Ignorign
the none too pleasant odor, Karasu strode to the dead mortal. Grabbing his
stiffening form by the back if the shirt, the hunter easily rolled the
mortal over.
"Damn," Karasu muttered as he took in the mortal's battered visage.
The face was swollen and disfigured beyond all recognition. Congealed blood
surrounded what was once his mouth, and was where the pool on the floor had
come from. Karasu stepped back from the corpse, having learned all he could
from it.
Looking about the room once more, he saw a few small drops of liquid
on the concrete floor, across from where the mortal had been. Curious,
Karasu knelt and touched one with the index finger of his left hand.
The substance had longe since gone cold, and it's nature something
he could not discern, but he felt the telltale tingle of magic race up his arm.
"Jusenkyou?" Karasu whispered in surprise as the tingle raced up his
arm. As he identified the curse as the nyanniichuan, some of the details of
ths act fell into place.
His man, while a woman at the time, managed to lure him down to this
basement. Afterward, he killed this mortal and harvested his soul. However,
many things didn't make any sense.
It was clear that what had happened here wasn't a sacrfice, the
absence of an altar, a crowd, and certain magical artifacts and sygils
making that clear. Even the best wizards and sorcerers couldn't clean up a
sacrifice in the time it took Karasu to find this basement. From what he
gathered, the killing of this mortal was just an act of brutality driven by
intense rage.
However the victim was killed, however, the net result was the same;
his soul was trapped on the Mortal Plane, and the man how would probably had
the answers was still on the loose.
Snarling in disgust, Karasu left the grisly scene. He had answered a
few questions, but many more had been raised. Karasu wasn't much closer to
learning the identity and whereabouts of the soul harvester, and as such had
to simply wait until he struck again, much as it galled him.
Patience was a virture that all hunters had to possess, but Karasu's
only went so far.
======================
Hope you enjoy it!
Jed