_Very_late. _Very_ tired. Dentist in the morning.
Dialogue. Lots of dialogue. Takes a long time.
C&C, or I come after you and whine and plead and whimper.
Disclaimer: The playground is by Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only
swinging on the monkey bars. Remember to leave the grounds
cleaner than you found them and please don't feed the
Trolls.
*Summer Lightning* and "Thanksgiving Eve" are copyrighted by
Garnet Rogers; if you haven't encountered him before go out
and buy his CDs, he sings lots better than I write.
"The Haughs of Cromdale" is a Traditional Scottish Melody,
whereas "The Mountains of Mourne" is Traditional Irish.
"Save The Best For Last" belongs to Vanessa Williams.
Gally is a part of "Gunnm", which belongs to whoever owns
it.
This story is archived at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/
Release 0.2 (Oct. 26, 1999)
------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma and Akane: A Love Story
Chapter 6: Immediate Consequences
Part C: When I Was A Fighting Man, The Kettle-Drums They Beat
------------------------------------------------------------
The trouble with being a hero, Akane decided, is that
everyone wants to distract you from whatever else you're
doing, but you still have to do it anyway. Or, at least, you
still have to do it if 'it' is schoolwork.
Also, teachers are remarkably resistant towards accepting 'I
spent most of yesterday in Hell. I didn't have _time_ to do
homework.' as an excuse.
What was _truly_ irritating was that Ranma _had_ done her
homework.
After your whole school has cheered you as a hero, being
sent into the hall for the buckets can be a terrible
letdown.
But, somehow, it wasn't. She considered her feelings as she
stood in the hall, and tried to pin down just _why_ it
wasn't.
Mostly, she decided, because it really didn't matter. The
school knew. She knew. Ranma knew. Probably even the
teachers knew. It was more a matter of the routine
maintenance of order than anything really serious. It wasn't
like the 'shame' was going to blight her record.
Really, she suddenly realized, her _entire_ school record
had any real meaning. Even if she didn't stay with Ranchan
after her high-school days were behind her (she knew she
couldn't, and the thought was more painful than any other
she'd ever had), her life had taken an irrevocable turn for
the weird and the adventurous.
It would not be possible for her to live a normal life as a
normal Japanese girl. Had it ever _been_ possible? Well, she
wasn't sure, any more than she was sure just what it _was_
possible for her to be.
She supposed she'd find out.
------------------------------------------------------------
It was weird.
This girl. Sayuri. She'd just ... wandered in and started
talking.
Weird.
Hadn't even wanted anything from her, hadn't wanted
information. Just kept her company. Sympathized with her.
Wasn't related to her, didn't owe her anything. Didn't even
go to the same school. She'd even had to ask her _name_.
Hadn't connected her to her brother until Kodachi herself
had mentioned it. Sayuri had been surprised.
So, if she didn't want to be seen with Kodachi for social
purposes (in a hospital?), and didn't want access to her
brother, what _did_ she want?
Kodachi was forced to conclude that she wanted to be
friends.
Strange. Very, very strange.
Kodachi had never had .... Well, _of course_ she'd had
friends. She'd had lots of them. But she'd never had ....
She'd never had a friend who was just ... a friend.
She was even ... protective. _Actually_ protective. She'd
gotten _very_ mad that no-one from St. Hebereki had stopped
by, or even sent a card.
She had ... she had ... she'd shared her views on school
with Kodachi. Just talking. She'd _gossiped_. Just like they
were two schoolgirls. Just like Kodachi was a normal girl.
_No-one_ had _ever_ treated Kodachi like she was a normal
girl. Ever.
Well, there was no reason for them to. She was _Kuno
Kodachi_. She was _rich_. She was special.
Wasn't she?
------------------------------------------------------------
Sayuri felt that Kodachi must be very brave. She had stood
up to a dreadful monster (_she_ knew) and she wasn't even
depressed about the scar on her face or anything.
Mind, Sayuri also felt that the scar actually looked good.
For a scar, that is. Sort of piratical. But Kodachi was
going to have an operation to have it removed, soon. Which
was good, because a girl really shouldn't have scars for
very long because people could react badly.
What Sayuri was actually concerned with, of course, was
Kodachi's potential ability to attract a boyfriend. She
would have recommended someone, but she didn't know any
decent ones herself. It was, she felt, already sufficiently
difficult to find a good prospect without having to worry
about turning them off because of a scar.
Sayuri had awoken with memories. She wasn't entirely sure
about the veracity of _all_ of them. But she remembered
enough. Ranma and Akane had come to get her. They had
rescued her in some way or another. She would have to ask
Ranma-sempai about exactly what had gone on.
Central to the traditional moral character of Japanese
society are four interlinked concepts: On, Gimu, Giri and
Ninjo. While translations are, by nature, inexact, a
Westerner would probably translate them as Reciprocity,
Piety, Duty and Compassion.
Reciprocity requires acknowledgment and repayment of debt,
including honor debt. Piety exhorts the debtor to allegiance
to the debt-holder's cause, in ongoing repayment of debts
otherwise too great to fully repay. Duty invokes the
balancing of obligations as the highest function of an
honorable life. Compassion requires empathy with others, and
recognizes that all people are one, beneath the surface
differences that karma imposes.
Ranma-sempai and Akane-sempai had stormed Hell itself to
rescue her, for compassion's sake. Sayuri wasn't sure that
the debt could be repaid, but she was determined to try.
Showing compassion herself seemed to be a good way to start.
Besides, she truly did like the older girl. And there was no
doubt in her mind that Kodachi _needed_ a little compassion,
needed it badly. It was in the eyes, a certain mix of
defensiveness and loneliness. She had seen it before.
Once Yuka had had that look, when she was new to Junior
High. She had offended the dignity of one of the fashionable
cliques, and had been nearly shunned for her trouble. Akane
had noticed it and had dragged Sayuri into a friendship that
never since faltered. Then later Akane herself had begun to
grow that look, and Sayuri had not at all known what to do
about it.
Greater than all other terrors is helplessness. Three times
in her life Sayuri had felt that great terror, once in
retrospect and twice directly. Once she had been saved by
Akane, once by Ranma, once by both.
But in the course of that last rescue, running up a long
slope, she had discovered that she need no longer be
helpless. She had found a source of power in the bone-
handled hilts of a pair of long knives. (Or perhaps she had
discovered the power earlier, beneath the knife and the
iron. But she did not send her mind back to that place of
lies to see.)
She had left the knives behind, imbedded in sulfurous dust
and ichor-stained flesh. And yet, in some way, she still
seemed to feel them within her hand, warm and sure-gripped,
almost alive in their response to her arm and will.
Knives can be used for many things. Sayuri was a good cook,
and experienced with knives.
It came to her, looking at the darkness in Kodachi's dark
eyes, that no-one who has a knife is truly helpless. It came
to her that there are many kinds of knives. The lurking
darkness was a bitter enemy, but it was an enemy that she
had faced before, and it seemed to her that she might just
have a knife fit to cut it.
Sayuri chatted on, using gossip and patter, talk of the
latest shows and magazines, what idol singer was hot, what
idol singer was cold, and how long they each would stay that
way. What Kodachi did at home, what Sayuri did at home.
Recipes and music and video-games and sweets and boys.
Within 15 minutes she had giggles. Within an hour they were
chatting away as if they had known each other all their
lives. Just as if they were at a sleep-over. Just as if they
were talking after school. Just as if they were passing
notes in class. Just a normal conversation, between two
normal teen-age girls, who happen to be best friends.
Normality and friendship, to cut the dark away. Strange
knives to make strange cuts, Sayuri thought. But you had to
take your knives where you found them sometimes. After all,
strange or not, a knife was a knife. And Sayuri was good
with knives.
------------------------------------------------------------
By lunchtime, she had a pile of notes that almost covered
her desk. Fortunately, the teacher was understanding.
Unfortunately, there was no way she could possibly reply to
most of them. She didn't even dare read them, in case one of
them asked something she couldn't afford to react to.
Fame and triumph could be quite wearing.
As could other things as well, of course.
There was, in one corner of Furinkan yard, a tree. This had
a low lying, broad, flat limb perhaps four or five feet off
the ground. Underneath the limb there was a sheltered spot
of shade. This collective area had been annexed by Ranma
soon after she arrived at Furinkan, and was already locally
known by the students thereof as Ranma's Branch and Akane's
Spot.
Ranma would stretch out on the limb and idle, while Akane
sat underneath her in the shade and dozed or ate, frequently
listening to Ranma play the flute or lecture on some arcane
bit of cultural trivia or other. Under normal circumstances
Ranma considered lunch a thing which should not be trivially
disturbed. Today, however, was not a normal circumstance.
For some reason best known to herself, Ranma had decreed a
period of weapons drill. This involved several annoyances,
from Akane's point of view. First, it meant that she had to
cram down a great deal of food in a great hurry, which she
considered it distasteful. Second, it required her to bounce
around like a superball even to avoid embarrassing herself
against Ranma's skill.
Third, it meant that she had to exercise even greater
control over her movements than would normally be the case
in a sparring match, lest she injure another student.
Fourth, even despite this control, it was positively amazing
how little protection a sword blade, a cupped hand-guard and
a blade-breaker hilt could be against a fan.
Lastly, Ranma regarded sparring time as an excellent forum
for developing her cultural literacy, her store of trivia
and her aptitude for quotation. Generally, by quoting
extensively and extempore from the _Tale of Genji_ or _The
Dream of the Red Chamber_. Translating the latter in
midstream, of course, because Akane was quite incapable of
speaking Chinese. Altogether, it was enough to drive a
respectable Tendo to tears. Or something. And she had
discovered that she _despised_ the _Dream of the Red
Chamber_.
And since the difference between quoting from the ancient
Chinese and talking to Nabiki isn't all _that_ great, when
you come right down to it ....
------------------------------------------------------------
Spin. Sidestep-leap. Block low-to-high-to-cross-guard. Leap.
"Umm. Ranma-san?" Uncertainty was uncharacteristic for
Nabiki, but she didn't normally try to talk business with
someone who was busy using a fan to chase someone who was
using a sword around Furinkan yard. "Can I talk to you two
about something?" At least Ranma wasn't moving very fast.
|Step forward. Feint. Three arc. Four-corner.|
Land blocking. Slide back. Disengage. Block low-to-high.
"Sure, Nabiki-san. What's on your mind?" Ranma moved Akane
sideways, so that she wouldn't crowd Nabiki. "Acchan, if you
don't attack you're going to lose, you know."
|Casual feint. Side-swipe. Jodan. Chudan.|
Parry. Riposte-to-stop block. Disengage, under cover. Duck.
"What's up, Oneechan?" Akane chirped brightly, "And Ranchan,
you know I'm gonna lose anyway. If I keep defensive, you
might make a mistake."
|Slide-strike. Reverse kick. Three-strike. Jodan.|
Sweep kick-to-tumble dodge. Jump. Jodan cross. 'ohshit' WHAM
"Waiting for your opponent to make a mistake is very
passive, Acchan." Ranma chided, gently, "You should be
causing mistakes, because a skilled opponent won't make any
otherwise." As Akane spun through the air, Ranma raised an
eyebrow, "See?"
|V-step. Sweep-to-Gedan. Slap parry-and-bind. Flip.|
Akane had managed to rotate upright as she flew, but had not
managed to get her legs in line with the wall. A puff of
dust rose from the impact, and she stayed flattened against
the wall about five feet off the ground for a moment before
slowly sliding down. Nabiki winced, a reaction shared by
many of the watching students.
Her eyes wide and unfocussed, Akane shook her head as she
reached the ground. "Theoretically, anyway." she mumbled,
"Where'd that wall come from, anyway?"
Ranma's lip curved upward in a sardonic smile. "It's been
there for twenty years or so, I think. They don't usually
move."
"Funny." Akane pushed herself to her feet, sheathing her
sword. "I'm going to put the sword up and start using a
stick. It'd be faster."
Ranma smiled slightly, before turning back to Nabiki.
------------------------------------------------------------
And then there had been the weird thing that Nabiki had
wanted to ask. Akane would never in her wildest dreams have
expected Nabiki to declare that she and Ranma were as good a
s idol singers, nor have expected that Nabiki would offer to
have a demo made.
She probably _should_ have expected it, but she hadn't. She
_had_ expected Ranma's reaction. She even agreed with it,
although she was a _little_ sorry that she wouldn't get to
hear their songs on the radio. But being an idol singer
would cut _much_ too far into training time, and other
things.
And besides, if being famous just in Furinkan was this ...
embarrassing, what might being famous on the street be like?
When you thought about it, fame was something of an
impediment to a Martial Artist, really. She should do her
best to avoid it. In the future. You bet.
Still. It _was_ a shame.
------------------------------------------------------------
It had developed that there _was_ a team sport that Ranma
could be persuaded to pay attention to. Although it was ...
ah ... _surprising_ ... what role she chose to play.
But, when you considered it properly, there was just
something _right_ about it. Baseball, (Ranma sneered at the
very idea of softball) is one of the most team oriented of
games, and yet the pitcher is one of the two players on the
field who are in _individual_ competition. Akane speculated
that the paradox was sufficiently amusing to Ranma that she
was inclined to savor it.
Which did not make her sliders any easier to hit, of course,
but there you go.
Ranma had engaged to train the school girl's (once softball,
now recast into a harder mold) ball team in sufficient
mastery of the game that any lack of athletic ability could
be compensated for by skill. This seemed to involve pitches
that did everything but go straight, making a baseball go
precisely through a 6 inch hoop that could be moved about,
theoretical lectures on the science of hitting and other
such esoterica. It wasn't _quite_ martial arts, but it came
close.
Which was not by any means the weirdest thing about the new
Furinkan Swords. Probably the weirdest thing was a little
appreciated quirk in their all-purpose coach's mental
makeup.
It was to be expected that someone with such an appreciation
for the science of the game would also be a fan, an otaku,
even. But most people would have guessed Ranma to favor the
Tokyo Giants, or perhaps their arch-rivals, the Hiroshima
Carp. Or possibly a local team, if she had lived in that
area long.
Of course, Ranma had lived in America for a while, so an
American team wasn't _too_ strange.
But still.
------------------------------------------------------------
"The Chicago Cubs?? Ranchan, they're _lousy_."
"They are _not_!"
"And _when_ was the last time they even got _into_ the
Series?"
"Ummm. 1945, what's _that_ got to do with it?"
Akane stared, open-mouthed.
Ranma grinned, suddenly. "Okay, I admit you have a point.
But you haven't grasped the tao of the True Cubs Fan."
"You're all nuts?" Akane snickered, then attempted to dodge
the whap. (Unsuccessfully, it must be noted.)
"The Cubs Fan," Ranma explained patiently, "is the True Fan,
undistracted by unworthy considerations of temporary success
or failure. Okay, they may have lost the last six series
they got into, but there's another thing you're forgetting."
"Oh?" Akane was the picture of wide-eyed innocence, "What's
that, Ranchan?"
"For the Cubs Fan," Ranma winked, "as for no other, there is
_always_ a next year!"
"Ranchan?"
"Yeah?"
"You're weird."
"Yeah, so?"
"I just thought I'd mention it."
------------------------------------------------------------
And life goes on.
In this case, life included a practice session for the team,
and a small competition. To be specific, Sensei Fujikana,
the Furinkan PE department head, boy's PE teacher, and coach
of the Furinkan (Boy's) Baseball Team ( the Furinkan Blue
Thunderclouds ( Tatewaki's influence had spread far within
the school, to his present embarrassment)), while respecting
Ranma's athletic prowess, had differed strongly with her
training philosophy.
Fujikana-sensei agreed with Ranma that spirit could overcome
mere physical power (this view is, after all, nearly holy
writ in Japan), but strongly disagreed that mere trickiness
(as he put it) could overcome a firm grounding in the basic
elements of the game. Further, he strongly objected to the
theory that 'his' team would be outdone in spirit by a team
both new and untried (and he carefully _did not_ say, made
up of girls). Finally, (his white mustache bristled) since
Ranma's 'unconventional' training regimen would surely ruin
the girls grasp of those aforesaid basic skills (Which, he
reiterated, were both the _minimum_ with which any player
might be expected to approach the game, and the most
important skills such a player might own. That was, he
humphed, _why_ they were the _basic_ skills, after all.)
they might otherwise have attained; thereby ensure their
humiliating defeat at the hands of any team that might have
_properly_ studied the basics; _thereby_ ruin their morale
and destroy what spirit they possessed; and _thereby_ and
finally render it impossible (he shook a finger at Ranma)
for them to return to being what they had previously been,
viz: a reasonably good _softball_ team. And _therefor_ (he
waved his arms wildly) he objected strongly, yes, he
objected in the strongest of possible terms to this ill-
considered, visionary, untraditional, ....
Ranma had patted the old man gently on the shoulder and
proposed a small contest. The teams would play a restricted
portion of a game: three innings. Each would use one of
their starters, picked at random from a selection which the
opposing coaches would offer. Three innings would allow time
for at least one trip through the order for each side. The
results would then be analyzed and discussed.
Ranma herself, of course, as coach and trainer, would only
participate from the bench. Akane, as much more athletic
than the other girls and (in fact) boys as well, would be
restricted to catching.
Implicit in the agreement was the understanding that the
Swords would at least hold their own, or have their status
as a _baseball_ team revoked. Ranma had added her own dose
of encouragement in a private team meeting. Going back to
being a softball team, in addition to humiliating them and
disappointing Ranma personally, would require them to give
up doing PE in pants and go back to bloomers.
Implicit in _that_ piece of information was that Ranma also
would be required to go back to bloomers. And would,
therefor, Be Unhappy with the miscreants responsible.
Akane hadn't even needed to glower at the time.
That had been before a trip to Hell and a difficult night.
Akane asked Ranma privately if she should, for the team's
sake, bench herself. Ranma had asked her if _she_ felt it
would be wise. Akane had glared back, which caused Ranma to
smirk. Then Akane had looked down at her clasped hands, and
_considered_, as Ranma had known she would have to.
On the one hand, she was by far the best and most effective
athlete on the team, after Ranma herself. True, she was not
in the absolute best of shape, but she was not even close to
being sufficiently weary to affect _that_ assessment.
Also, she was as motivated to win and preserve the team as
anyone. More, really; losing would put a black mark on her
personal copybook, and, worse, on her sensei and beloved's.
On the other hand, Ranma had taken _herself_ out. Why had
she done that? Well, Akane could rule out not wanting to
win. And Ranma could probably win the game by herself, so
why ....
Oh. Duh. She had taken herself out because winning the game
wasn't the point. The task was retaining the team status,
and everyone already knew that Ranma could win the game, so
that would prove nothing about how well she could train the
rest of the team. Which was the point. Right.
So.
Would leaving herself in cast more doubt on Ranma's training
methods, or would taking herself out be worse? Taking
herself out could call things into question, too, after all.
Although her recent ordeal and triumph certainly offered a
good excuse. But she _could_ still be a factor, and as a
catcher she wouldn't be nearly so obvious. Hmm.
Difficult decision. What to do? Okay, she now had a tool
that should let her do things like that. Ranma had given it
to her just last night. She closed her eyes, and fell into a
rainbow.
Walking down a set of mental stairs and opening a mental
door, she went to the big chair and sat down, turning around
to the desk and taking up the book. Briefly, she chewed her
lip; which page should she use? Decision was sudden; Ranma
was trying to get her to do something, there was a lesson to
be learned. If she could understand what lesson Ranma wanted
to teach her, then she would understand what she should do.
She ran her hand caressingly over the soft leather that
sheathed the cover-boards, and opened the book to the page
marked 'Akane'. After regarding it gravely for a few
moments, she turned to the page inscribed 'Ranma' and
regarded it likewise. Then she closed the book and laid it
down and sank back into the well cushioned chair with a
slight, peaceful smile and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she sat forward, smiling
broadly. It was simple in the end. Beyond concerns for
winning or her reputation as a sensei, Ranma was concerned
for the team that she was raising up. It was something of a
gamble, but this was a contest that the team must win for
itself. Putting the stars on the line would tend to attract
attention away from the team's quality, where it belonged.
Akane grinned wryly as she considered a pile of notes
threatening to cover her desk; it really was wisest for a
Martial Artist to keep her head down and blend into the
background. Feeling virtuous, she got up from the chair and
stretched. Then she closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she was looking down into
Ranma's cerulean serenity. "Yes, Ranchan," she said quietly,
"I _do_ think it would be wise. For the team's sake."
The smile Ranma returned was not wry at all; a great, proud
beam followed by a slight bow, barely above a nod, but
special to Akane anyway. As Akane followed Ranma out to the
dugout to mark up the roster, she wondered if sufficient
happiness could make you float away. Or only feel like it.
------------------------------------------------------------
Time is relative. This isn't actually a restatement of
General or Special Relativity, although it should be. This
fact aside, however, the relative nature of experienced time
remains unchallenged. A night out for dinner and dancing can
fly past in the blink of an eye. Three innings of baseball
can take forever.
Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people here working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin'
for gold in the street.
Or, at least, when I asked them that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold;
But for all that I've found there, I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
Ranma was singing quietly as she sat on the bench, from her
demeanor, she might have been waiting for a train. As she
sang, she held a blank of glass about eight inches by three
inches by an inch in her right hand. In her left hand she
held a rock, which she was engaged in running over the
glass, almost as though she were whittling, except much more
slowly. It made a soft grinding sound. Akane, sitting next
to her and carefully refraining from chewing on her
fingernails, found both the noise and the singing soothing.
The game had been a strain from the card-draw that had
established the starting pitchers. The Blue Thunderclouds
had drawn their ace pitcher, Asakami Sanetada, while the
Swords had drawn Morioka Nozomi, who was perhaps third best
among Ranma's prospects at that position.
Ranma had greeted the results of the draw with the faintest
of hidden smirks. Akane doubted that anyone but she would
have been able to observe it, and hoped that her friend's
confidence was not misplaced. Akane had carefully not chewed
her fingernails as the Blue Thunderclouds stood to bat, but
Ranma had merely begun singing quietly. Throughout the game
she had continued, switching songs from time to time, but
all of them rather slow, sweet things in some weird accent
of English.
I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London are dressed.
Well if you believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all.
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not, in thrath
Say if they were bound for a ball, or a bath,
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Machree,
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
Initially, results were mixed. Nozomi had struggled with
control somewhat in the first inning, allowing second
baseman Takenuma Masaki a single on a slider that didn't
break and walking first baseman Kiyoshima Taro on five
pitches; before giving up a double to third baseman Iwada
Tadao that scored one run and was stopped from scoring two
only by a brilliant carom-play off the right-field corner by
Swords right fielder Muraki Asami, whose equally brilliant
rainbow throw to third base(wo)man Okatsuka Satoko nearly
caught Kiyoshima, who slid into third just under the tag.
But then Nozomi had buckled down, forcing Thunderclouds
catcher Akamura Yoshifumi into a sharp grounder to Swords
shortstop Tatabayashi Etsuko, who looked Kiyoshima back to
third before throwing to Uchimoto Rieko at first for the
out. Kiyoshima tagged and scored when Thunderclouds right
fielder Ishita Shigeaki rapped a long, high fly ball to
Asami in right on a 2 and 2 pitch just low and right of the
plate.
Nozomi then struck out Thunderclouds center fielder Kurojima
Toshiharu on a cut fastball outside, a slider inside, a
breaking ball just off the plate outside fouled to the left,
another breaking ball a little further off the plate taken
for a ball and a final vicious two arc curveball that slid
down the center of the plate as though it was running on a
wire and froze the hapless Kurojima where he stood.
The Sword's half of the inning began with their shortstop
Etsuko, who took two balls and a called strike before
sharply rapping the next pitch between Takenuma and
Kiyoshima for a single. By far the fastest runner in the
swords who was not Akane or Ranma, Etsuko waited for two
pitches to the Swords center fielder Nakauchi Manami by
Asakami, a breaking ball outside and a hard fastball for a
swinging strike, before stealing second base a foot and a
half ahead of the throw from Thunderclouds catcher Akamura.
Manami had swung in the vicinity of the ball to break the
rhythm of Akamura's play and was therefor down 1 to 2. She
adjusted to a defensive swing and fouled off three pitches
from Asakami before finally looping a low fly to the
charging Thunderclouds left fielder Aosaki Tetsuyuki, who
snared the ball perhaps thirty feet too short for a
disappointed Etsuko to reach third.
Asakami started Swords third baser Satoko with a fastball on
the outside edge of the plate that she fouled into the
Thundercloud dugout. He followed up the advantage with a
slider away that sped past Satoko's reaching bat for strike
two. Satoko walked away from the batter's box in a
frustrated circle and bopped herself gently on the helmet
with her bat. As she returned to the circle she gave the
Thunderclouds' pitcher and catcher a searching appraisal and
decided to work a gamble. As Asakami went into the stretch,
Satoko set herself and waited on a hard fastball down the
middle.
It came, and returned on a smoking low line drive that spat
past Thunderclouds shortstop Higashiita Shuichi and into
center field. Etsuko was sprinting for third from the crack
of the bat. As she passed the base, Swords third base coach
Tahayashi Maya (a year older than most of the rest of the
team, and more intellectual than athletic) waved her
enthusiastically to the plate.
In center field Kurojima sped for the ball. Still smarting
from the strikeout in the top half of the inning, he came up
intending a hard throw to home plate, but immediately saw
that Etsuko was thirty feet past third base already and
swallowed his pride to throw to Takenuma midway between
second and first to hold Satako to a single.
Somewhat shaken and more respectful, Asakami prepared to
pitch to the Swords first baseperson, Reiko. That individual
narrowed her eyes as she took her practice swings in the
batter's box, and decided to try a surprise bunt. The
results of this combination of strategies was mixed. On the
one hand, Reiko did get the bunt down fair, sending Satako
on a full run for second. On the other hand, the hard, high
fastball that she bunted bounced immediately off the plate
and up in a great arc, unfortunately directly to Higashiita,
standing with his foot on second base, and came quickly
enough to beat Satako there. After that, the double play was
mere detail.
You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course
Well now he is here at the head of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand
And he stopped the whole street
with a wave of his hand.
And there we stood talking of days that are gone
While the whole population of London looked on;
But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me
To be back where the dark Mourne
sweeps down to the sea.
The second inning started poorly for the Thunderclouds, as
their lower part (and hence, less successful offensively
part) was scheduled to come to the plate. Higashiita,
batting seventh, took a leaf from the Swords' own book and
reached base barely ahead of Etsuko's cross-diamond throw on
a swinging bunt.
But left fielder Aosaki Tetsuyuki and Asakami (as pitcher,
batting in the ninth slot) were retired by Nozomi on four
pitches each; Aosaki grounding to first and advancing
Higashiita to second and Asakami striking out. Nozomi,
encouraged threw a cut fastball for a called strike on
Takenuma, and dropped a breaking ball past a wild swing for
strike two.
But her next four pitches were fouled off, and then two
sliders outside went by for balls. Grimly, Nozomi shook off
signs from her catcher Mizuyama Namie, holding out for a
curve ball. Finally, and with some trepidation, Namie called
for the pitch Nozomi wanted to throw.
Takenuma's swing was flat across, and it snapped the hapless
ball on a long line drive to left field where a racing
Tawashimo Yumiko, the Swords left fielder, ran it down with
a flat dive that just barely caught up, near the warning
track and almost to center field. Brushing off her brow with
silent relief, Nozomi went to the bench.
Yumiko, first up in the inning for the Swords, trotted to
the batter's box with some exuberance. Asakami looked upon
her with little favor, starting her with a high fastball, at
which she swung with no result. Another fastball followed,
taken for a ball. Two more fastball's followed, fouled off
on a defensive swing and taken high. Hissing with
frustration, Akamura called for a slider, which missed badly
outside. Two more grooved fastballs were fouled off, before
Akamura called for a pitch off-speed, which was returned to
very shallow left field, blooped over the head of a
scrambling Higashiita at shortstop.
Bashisaka Ikuko, playing second base and batting second in
the inning for the Swords, rapped a sharp groundball up the
first base foul line on the first pitch. Yumiko, who was
running on the pitch, reached second just ahead of
Kyoshima's throw to Takenuma, sliding in under the tag to
avoid the double play.
Asami, next up in the inning, hoped that two good defensive
plays would translate into offensive success. Hoping to out-
think the Swords, Akamura called for a breaking ball to
start, which Asakami delivered for a strike. He followed it
with a slider for a ball, another for a swinging strike, and
a curveball high for ball two. Hoping that the desired mind-
set had been established, Akamura called for a fastball on
the inner half. Asami hammered it down into the dirt,
skipping in a high bounce that brought Thunderclouds thir
baseman Iwada charging in. Yumiko advanced to third as there
was no-one there to stop her, and Asami sped down the line,
barely reaching first ahead of the throw.
With one out and runners at first and third, Asakami became
more defensive, running the count on Namie to 2 and 2 and
forcing the Swords catcher to foul of several pitches with
defensive swings. A last attempt at an Out Pitch, a cut
fastball at the knees inside, was pushed into a weak dribble
that spun off the plate and came back to Akamura, who looked
Yumiko into a scrambling slide back to third base before
throwing Namie out at first.
Nozomi, batting ninth in the order and next in the inning,
was acutely aware of her offensive shortcomings. Determined
to make them work for the out, however, she prepared for
short, defensive swings from the beginning. The tactic was
remarkably successful, drawing Asakami into a fifteen pitch
battle that only ended when Nozomi took a curveball, which
proved itself, once again, to have been just outside the
strike zone.
Her walk to first base was marked by applause from both
benches, and all the spectators. Ranma stopped singing
briefly to yell a few words of congratulation, and Akane
jumped up and down, whooping. Asakami merely grimaced.
Etsuko, walking to the plate for the second time, told
herself that she would have to be careful. And she was, but
not careful enough, forced to foul off fastball after
fastball until one popped up the line to first base and
Kyoshima caught it foul by perhaps eight feet.
On their way back to the dugout for their gloves, both
Etsuko and Reiko both hung their heads, and neither would
meet the other's eye. Nozomi caught them just as they left
the dugout and slapped them on the back, whispering that
they were still in the game and that the Thunderclouds would
gain no more runs this game.
There's beautiful girls here --- Oh, never you mind ---
With beautiful shapes nature never designed.
And lovely complexions all roses and cream,
But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
And they didn't. Kiyoshima struck out on a replay of the
curve-ball that had frozen Kurojima in the first inning and
Iwada flyed out to Manami, ten feet inside the track in
center field. Akamura presented a brief threat, singling
sharply on the ground over second base on the third pitch,
and then stealing second ahead of Namie's throw. But the
threat was erased when Ishita, struggling with a steady diet
of vicious curve-balls and sliders, popped to Etsuko, who
snagged the ball out of the air with nigh-vindictive glee.
Defensive success, however, still left the Swords behind, 2
to 1, and Manami, batting first in the inning, set to work.
On the fourth pitch, a 3 and 1 fastball just high, she got
around to send a low line drive just between Higashiita at
short and Iwada at third, the ball flying too low and fast
for either to react until it was by them into left.
Satoko, up next, waited two pitches to turn on a fastball,
but was fooled by its height and hit it off the bottom of
the bat, sending it rolling slowly down to first, where
Kiyoshima scooped it up before tagging her as she passed,
Manami advancing to second without hindrance.
Reiko, smarting from the double play she hit into in the
first inning, concentrated on lifting the ball, and hammered
the fourth pitch Asakami showed her (a 2 and 1 hard slider)
deep to the gap between left and center field, where it
barely evaded the diving grasp of Thunderclouds left fielder
Aosaki. But good positioning by the center fielder Kurojima
played the bounce off the wall and relayed it to Takenuma,
running across the infield towards third, preventing Manami,
who had been forced to wait and see if the ball would be
caught, from advancing past third base.
This left a difficult situation for Yumiko, for if she hit
into the double play opened up by the first and third
situation, she would end the game with the Swords still down
by a run. This meant that she must hit defensively, focusing
on lofting the ball rather than driving it on the ground. So
she worked the count, swinging at things defensively and
judging balls that were outside or inside the strike zone,
finally drawing a walk as, with three and two, and after
several fouls, Reiko took advantage of having timed
Asakami's moves to steal second, forcing Asakami to a
defensive pitch to Yumiko, which missed.
This put things in the hands of the Swords second baser,
Ikuko, who was uneasily aware that she was not the team's
best hitter, and who had been little tested up to that
point. Focusing on the ball, and remembering Ranma's half-
gestured advice, she let a fastball go by just on the
outside edge of the plate, ignored an off-speed pitch just a
little further out, tracked a fastball inside the plate, but
did not swing, and finally connected, hammering a fastball
that got just a little bit to close to the middle of the
plate in a screaming line drive up the very middle of the
diamond, just over Asakami's head and into center field.
Manami swept home to a tumultuous cheer from her bench, and
Maya, coaching third base, frantically winmilled her arms to
wave Reiko home as well. But Kurojima, charging from center
scooped up the ball and put his all into a long rainbow
strike to Akamura, who caught the ball standing at home
plate and tagged Reiko out in a dust-raising collision,
getting the tag down as Reiko slid into his blocking leg.
Swords team-members swarmed from the dug-out and basepaths,
carrying Manami and Reiko in their wake, and pounced upon
Ikuko, cheering. Maya apologized to her and Reiko, but was
pulled into the group dog-pile and cheered and pummeled
anyway.
Calmly Ranma walked over to Hachisuka-sensei, who was
chewing on his mustaches and fuming. Almost snarling, though
not at Ranma, he savagely listed his team's failings at
performing the "basic skills of the Game, by Susano-o!"
Ranma nodded calmly and proposed another test game, in three
weeks time.
Receiving assent, she walked away towards her celebrating
students, gathered them up by eye and ushered them off to
the changing rooms, where she dissected the game's events in
the calm, whimsical manner that Akane had privately dubbed
'Ranchan-sensei's Chewing Out Stealth Shtick' (Because it
felt like you had been beaten with a stick, but only after
it was over and you had time to think about it.)
Hachisuka-sensei also gathered his team and dragged it off.
He, too, then brought them in for a closer examination of
their play. It is doubtful, however, that anyone would have
characterized it as 'calm' or 'whimsical' in any fashion.
At the end of the day, however, the Swords went away happy.
Ahead, behind, or tied on points, they knew what the game
had really been about.
It's not what the scoreboard says, at the end of the day.
It's whether you win or lose.
How you play the game just determines if the scoreboard
reflects reality.
------------------------------------------------------------
'Thirty spokes meet at a nave,' Kodachi thought, sadly,
'Because of the hole we may use the wheel.' Sayuri was
dancing around the edges of something.
It showed up in the pauses. Like many things, really. A
matter of things not said, of topics not raised.
She was good at it, and good at detecting it. All she had to
do now was steer the conversation a little and she would
find out what it was. Sayuri was _not_ good at it.
She didn't want to.
It would be ... she had ... Sayuri ...
It had been _so_ much fun, thinking that Sayuri wanted just
to be her friend. She really didn't want to find out what
Sayuri's ulterior motives were. She really didn't. But, she
had to.
She set about doing so. Slowly, gently. Piece by piece. The
spokes define the wheel, but the part you use is at the
center, and around the edge. If you look at the shape of the
wall, you can, if you're good, tell what lies _behind_ the
wall.
Piece by piece, the picture grew, but the picture made no
sense. It was ....
It was almost as though _she_ didn't matter at all, but then
in the next instant it was as though she _did_ matter, but
not because of who she was, but just because ....
It made no sense. If Sayuri wanted Kodachi to do something
_for_ her, she should be interested in what Kodachi _was_;
what her contacts were, who she knew, which circles she
moved in. And she wasn't, didn't care at all. On that point,
if on no other, Kodachi was willing to swear.
Oh, Sayuri would _talk_ about them, but she was more
interested in how Kodachi felt, in what _she_ thought of
them. She didn't seem to have any idea of how they could be
used, or even that they _could_ be used. She seemed,
honestly, to feel as though they were part of a world in
which she would never move, or even wished to.
Now, if Sayuri wanted Kodachi to enhance her standing in her
own social circles, she should be interested in either
getting Kodachi to visit that circle or in getting to visit
_Kodachi's_. And she wasn't, especially. Kodachi thought
that it was _vaguely_ possible that she could be wrong, ...
there was this 'mall hanging' thing that Sayuri had
mentioned, and she was positively _enthusiastic_ about a
'slumber party' ... she _thought_ she knew what those were,
but ... it seemed to _her_ that someone ... well it was the
same problem as before. Sayuri should be looking for
details, names to drop, commitments, something of that sort.
But, she just wasn't.
The _other_ odd thing was the apprehension. It was fairly
well buried, but there was definitely a thread of ... well,
not _fear_ exactly, but something like it. But it wasn't
directed at her. It seemed almost as though Sayuri was
_worried_. Worried about Kodachi and worried about herself,
at the same time. And Kodachi was willing to say that the
worries had the same _cause_, too.
Now. What could ....
Hmmm.
Well, what had Ranma-sensei said that Sayuri was in the
hospital for, anyway? She was sure that she had heard ....
Oh, yes! Sayuri had been ... unconscious ... because ....
Sayuri, she suddenly remembered grimly, had been uncnscious,
almost in a coma, because of something that had happened to
her during the attack by that _creature_. She might have
also been attacked. Ranma-sensei, she remembered, had seemed
almost worried.
Not good. No telling what ... She didn't look _physically_
damaged, but ....
Oh, dear.
Well. She would simply have to find out. If ... something
... _had_ happened, then ....
Well, then _she_, Kuno Kodachi, still the Black Rose, would
have _two_ grievances. Very severe ones.
_And_, she, Kodachi, would also have a friend, or, at least,
a companion in suffering, who she would be responsible for.
Sayuri seemed to think that _she_ could, and should, protect
_Kodachi_. From the terrible threat of being lonely, if from
nothing else. Who knew? Perhaps she was right.
Slowly, again, and carefully, Kodachi began to move the
conversation to her will. But not, this time, to steer a
wheel.
This task would require strength, as much as guile. It was
obvious that Sayuri would not willingly speak of her
troubles; and yet, she was also carrying some great weight.
If she was given reason to place the burden, or part of it,
on another's shoulders, would she not do so?
Kodachi was quite sure that she could carry at least as
large a load as Sayuri did. Whatever she was carrying,
Kodachi could bear it.
Slowly. Cautiously. Carefully. Making words into clay.
Moulding clay into a cup. Piece by piece, turn by turn,
layer by layer. Not to build a wall, not to weave a net, but
merely to shape a space, that Sayuri must eventually fill.
The Clay is merely the vessel; it is the hollow that makes
the cup.
------------------------------------------------------------
Music was being ... interesting.
Maeda-sensei (Music) had been approached by Hachisuka-sensei
(English). The result of which was ....
"Okaaay." Yuka held her head. "Ranma-sempai's going to help
us learn better English by _Karaoke_?!"
Ranma chuckled. "Not _quite_, Yuka-kun. I'm going to teach
you to _sing_ better English. It should help your accents
and word choice."
"Do you even _know_ any popular English music, Ranchan?"
Akane queried.
"Oi!" Ranma snapped, frostily. "_Certainly_ I do! I'm just
trying to figure out which ones they are!"
"Ah." Akane met Ranma's glance with an expression of pure,
wide eyed innocence.
Ranma red-eyed her. "Biiiiidah!"
"Now," Ranma turned back to her notes, "Ah-hah! Found it.
This one on the radio when I was in Chicago. I think it was
some movie tune or other. Anyway. Page ... ah ... page 32.
See it?"
Various rustlings ensued as people flipped papers and stared
at them.
"Okay," Ranma bent forward, sitting on a chair with her
guitar in her lap, "the chords go like this, and the first
verse is ...
Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
I see the passion in your eyes
Sometimes it's all a big surprise
The author will be kind, and spare his readers any attempt
at describing the cacophony which followed.
Ranma winced. Hard. "Ahhhh. Lets ... lets take it one line
at a time, okay?"
Sometimes the snow comes down in June
"No, Yuka-kun; 'snow' not 'srow'....
------------------------------------------------------------
It took ages. And long before it ended, Kodachi knew that
she had been wrong. She wasn't strong enough. No human was
strong enough. Except, just possibly, Sayuri.
She had crafted herself a cup, she thought numbly, and now
it overflowed. She had no-one to blame but herself.
Towards the beginning, she had moved herself, and her
injured leg, next to Sayuri, seeking to offer comfort. That
was towards the beginning.
But it was not long before she realized that she was
desperately trying to build a defense. A wall of dispassion
and distance. Between herself and the quiet voice, quietly
reciting horrors. As though they were distant and
unimportant. As though she did not know (but she _did_ know)
that the horror the voice was laying out was horror that the
voice itself had felt, had tasted, had been. As though the
voice had not been part of the horror. But it had. She
_knew_ it had.
And, because it had, she, too, was part of the horror.
Long before the story ended, Kodachi was huddled next to
Sayuri. _Seeking_ comfort.
Sayuri seemed pleased to offer it.
Seeking a wall, against the terror of the world. Finding a
rock, to anchor the wall to. Building bricks from words,
rapidly, hastily.
Where there are no walls to offer shelter, a wall may yet be
built. One wall may offer but little shelter, yet where you
may build one wall, you may build another. And then, another
yet.
------------------------------------------------------------
She hadn't meant to speak of it. She had told Kodachi too
much. Much too much. The girl was in the _hospital_, darn
it, with her leg all bunged up. What had she been thinking?
She pulled herself together with great force. Someone needed
her help. _Kodachi_ needed her help. You could cling to
that. It was a rock and a pillar, being needed, if you let
it be one.
You could use it, too. You could hold on and let it bear
your weight, and then you could kick rocks out of the side,
and make a staircase. And you could walk up the staircase
all the way to the top.
------------------------------------------------------------
She didn't remember what she said, or what Sayuri replied,
but somehow Kodachi pulled away. It was a gradual process.
But, bit by bit, she recalled herself to herself, and built
on the foundation that herself provided. When the flood is
sweeping down, you build a wall.
When you've built a wall, you build another, and another,
and another.
When you're surrounded with walls you start building them
higher.
------------------------------------------------------------
Kodachi was withdrawing, and it was all her fault.
Not that she could blame her. If _she_ had had all that ...
nastiness dropped on her, _she'd_ have withdrawn, too. Not
that that made it any better.
But withdrawing was the wrong thing to do, she knew it was.
You had to bide your time, and then you had to go _at_
whatever was wrong, because otherwise it would run over you.
Kodachi had something wrong. Well, aside from the leg, and
the scar, which were obvious. There was something _else_
wrong, too. She didn't know what it was, or how to find out,
but she knew it was there.
And if Kodachi withdrew, if she put up walls around herself,
whatever it was would just _sit_ there and get worse and
_worse_ ....
She was supposed to be Kodachi's _friend_. Some friend.
It was all her fault.
So she would have to fix it.
She didn't know _how_ she would, but she would have to find
a way. She was not going to stand helplessly by. Never stand
by helplessly again.
------------------------------------------------------------
Late at night, a big ole house gets lonely,
I guess every form of refuge has it's price
As the school day at Furinkan ended, some of the departing
student body behaved in unusual ways. Most of them, of
course, promptly scattered for home or their normal after-
school activities, breaking up into pairs and singletons and
small groups. But two large clots of students did _not_
break up, but remained coherent.
He looked at the chart but he looked in vain
Heavy cloud but no rain
One group, all boys, was joined by a small man with a
ferocious white mustache, who rounded them up and marched
them off. The other, about twenty students of mixed gender,
wandered off down the road. A casual observer would have
noticed that they were traveling in the general direction of
Nerima General Hospital.
Cause there was a time when all I did was wish
You'd tell me this was love
A _careful_ observer would have noticed that some of them
were singing. A _very_ careful observer might also have
noticed that, while the voices that were singing tended to
alternate, two were predominate, with at least one of the
two always involved. A furry, golden contralto, and a pure
silver mezzo-soprano. But it would have to have been a
_careful_ observer.
Now I don't know where the moral is,
Or how this song should end
A _casual_ observer could have followed them, and seen that
they _were_ heading for Nerima General, directly. And a
casual observer might have wondered at their good cheer.
Even people who work at Hospitals are seldom cheerful, and
few people walk to one with laughter and song.
'Cause I don't wanna go on with you like that
Don't wanna be a feather in your cap
And that question, as the group spilled into the lobby of
the Hospital in a flurry of (much quieter) good cheer, would
have taxed even a good observer to the utmost. But no-one
was particularly observing the group at the moment, and so,
no such question was asked.
------------------------------------------------------------
Nabiki made the discovery, and was unsettled. This led to
her finding a nurse, and transferring the unsettlement on.
In a less-well run establishment, the resulting chain
reaction could conceivably have provided amusement for some
time, but fortunately Nerima General was well run.
Shaking her head and talking quietly with Dr. Tofu and the
floor physical therapist, Ranma walked towards Kodachi's
room, followed by Akane and the others, bearing gifts of
flowers purchased in the Hospital Gift Shop.
Shifting her flower arrangement to one hand, Ranma knocked
on the indicated door and opened it, to reveal a pale
Sayuri, sitting in a chair, and a very quiet and still
Kodachi, lying on her bed. She ushered Akane, Yuka and
Tatewaki in the door, waving to the others to wait for a
minute and then closing it after herself.
"I've had complaints about you," Ranma said in a semi-
humorous tone.
Sayuri brought her head around with a mutinous light in her
eyes. "Ranma-sempai! I couldn't just _lie_ there!"
"And why not?" Akane came forward past Ranma and put her
flowers down on Kodachi's table. "Hello, Kodachi-kun, we've
brought some and Sayuri-chan some flowers."
"Oh, no! Akane-chan, I already have more flowers than will
...." As Akane came back around the table Sayuri's eyed
widened and her voice rose to a squeak, as she half rose
from her seat. At the same time, Kodachi sucked in her
breath in a gasp, as Akane's left eye swirled red and gold
in the flourescent light.
"Well then," Yuka grinned, "if you don't want the flowers,
we'll give them all to Kodachi-san."
"Akane-chan!" Sayuri wailed as Akane perched on the arm of
her chair and hugged her, "Your eye!"
"What about it?" Akane grinned.
"What _about_ it? It ... you ... but ... Yukaaaa!" Sayuri
clutched at her gown.
"It just changed color, Sayuri-chan. There's nothing wrong
with it." Akane's voice was pure sweet realism.
"_Just_ changed color?! Nothing _wrong_ with it?! Yuuukaaaa!
Reason with her!" Sayuri cringed as she gently reached out a
hand to touch Akane's left cheek. There were scars there,
three scars across the cheek, and she _knew_ in the marrow
of her bones what kind of thing had made them. She had seen
them, often enough, on her own flesh.
Akane-chan! Akane-chan had been hurt! For her! By Them!
Kill! She wanted to kill. She wanted to rip and tear and
smash and destroy! Another of her friends was hurt! If she
had possessed a tail, it would have been bottled out in
pure, furious rage.
Her vision was suddenly forced to timeshare. Yuka's face,
chin pugnaciously forward, thrust itself into her vision.
"We are not here to talk about Akane-chan's eye, Sayuri-
chan." Yuka's voice was low and grim. "We're here to look
after someone who almost got _killed_ on us!" Suddenly Yuka
broke down in tears and glomped Sayuri, trembling. "Don't go
and try to die on us again, Sayuri-chan. We've lost too may
friends from Furinkan as it is."
Kodachi lay on her bed, and felt the walls grow higher. She
watched the little gathering by the bed-side and knew that
she should do something. The face of the Kuno family
demanded that she show ninjo and control in this time of
stress for a friend, but all she could do ....
'Friend'? Yes, she admitted to herself, her friend. Almost
her only friend, and she could bear to do no single thing to
aid ....
Ranma edged a hip onto her bed, drawing her pale and quiet
attention. As the small, red-headed girl reached out a
gentle hand to cup over her scarred face, Kodachi watched
her gravely and traced her own faint scars by eye.
Kodachi fancied that she felt a vague flutter of sensation
along the facial scan. Something almost too faint to discern
and quickly fading. As her brother leaned over, equally
gravely, to kiss her on the forehead, Kodachi almost wept,
but could not. Walls, walls of glass, closing her in.
The walls were bad things, but how could she exist without
them? Even the friendship and concern between Sayuri, Yuka
and Akane would be too much for her to bear just now, if she
must confront them head on.
Sayuri shook her head free of the tri-fold hug and looked
concernedly at Akane again. "But, Akane-chan, it _looks_
...."
"Feh," Akane said. "Never you mind. Ranchan says it makes me
look rakish."
"Well," said Ranma, calmly, "it _does_."
"Oh." Sayuri blinked at Ranma, blinked at Akane, blinked at
Ranma again. "If you say so, Sempai."
"I do," Ranma said dryly, sliding off the bed. She took the
step necessary to reach Sayuri and took the other girl
gently by the chin, holding her face level and looking deep
into her eyes. Whatever she may have seen there, it seemed
to satisfy her, as when she let go she nodded calmly. "Yes,
you're a lot better. Looks like you're going to get well."
Sayuri stood up, to gain a small advantage by being taller
than the other girl. "I _am_ well, Sempai," she declared
firmly.
Ranma gazed at her through her eyelashes, crossing her hands
behind her back. "You're sure? No nightmares? No lingering
shadows? Everything just fine?"
"I'm _sure_," Sayuri crossed her arms in front of her and
glared at Ranma stubbornly, "no, no and _yes_, just _fine_."
Ranma smiled a somewhat crooked smile and brought out her
right hand, to hold palm upward and cupped in front of
Sayuri. As she focused on it, it filled with a pearlescent
globe of light, which seemed to be filled with colors, or
perhaps they were shapes.
Whatever they may have been, Sayuri leapt backwards with a
strangled shriek, hands curling into claws (or, perhaps, to
feel the hilt of an invisible knife) and rising to strike.
Kodachi, reacting to the threat signal, tensed to defend,
searching automatically for a weapon, buoyed by a momentary
surge of adrenaline.
Ranma simply held the light globe, bestowing upon Sayuri a
somewhat sardonic gaze. Sayuri looked up and down between
Ranma's face and the light a few times, before coming out of
a defensive stance and dropping her arms to fold her hands
together in front of her, ducking her head.
As she did, the light-globe flickered and vanished, and
Ranma stepped forwards again, reaching out with one finger
to tuck it gently underneath her chin and lift up her head.
"You know, Sayuri-chan, even very brave heroes have to take
time out now and then to be healed."
Sayuri flushed scarlet. "Yes, Sempai."
"You're still very much under the _physical_ effects, you
know," Ranma continued gently. "So you _are_ going to listen
to your physical therapist, right?"
Meekly, Sayuri said, "Yes, Sempai."
"And you're going to listen to Dr. Tofu, too, right?"
Diminuendo, "Yes, Sempai."
"And you're going to listen to _me_, right?"
Mumbled, with cast-down eyes, "Yes, Sempai."
Ranma let go of Sayuri's chin. "Good. In that case, I think
that between us we can get you on your feet and back to
school in no time. No time, in this case, being defined as
about a week." Turning to look at Kodachi, as well, "For
both of you. Also, I would like for you two to stay together
and do your exercises together while you're at the Hospital.
I was going to suggest that you visit Kodachi-kun when we
came over today, Sayuri-chan, but since you seem to have
anticipated me ...."
Sayuri blushed again. "I didn't want to just _sit_ there ...
there wasn't anything to do ... Kodachi-chan doesn't have
anything to do either ...."
Ranma grinned at them, "We brought you some magazines, and
some of the makings of a small party. So if the emotional
hullaballoo is over ...."
Akane grinned at her, Tatewaki and Kodachi nodded gravely
and Yuka and Sayuri blushed. And Ranma opened the door to
the teeming (in a sense) multitude (relatively speaking).
------------------------------------------------------------
Bosabosa Daisuke, Furinkan High School Class 2-F, was glad
to be able to (finally) get in the room, pushing past his
eternal partner Chapatsu Hiroshi in his haste. It wasn't so
much that he was eager to see the other half of his normal
double date and the closest thing he had to a girl friend;
although he was.
Nor was it the opportunity to be in the same small room with
the newly triumphant Tendo Akane, although he thought of her
as an acquaintance and hence, in some small way, shared her
glory; although that would certainly be a good thing. It
wasn't even that the same small room would also contain the
exotic and utterly beyond cool new arbiter of stylishness at
Furinkan, Bushiko Ranma; although the closer you stayed to
her the better.
No, the primary reason for his eagerness was much simpler;
he was carrying a large plant, and it was getting darn
heavy.
It's amazing, sometimes, the small points on which destiny
can turn.
He spent the first several moments inside the room looking
for somewhere to set it. Attempting to sort these first
impressions gave him a few odd data points.
First; the room had, in addition to Sayuri-chan, Yuka-chan,
and Akane, Ranma, and Tatewaki-sempai, another occupant.
Second; this occupant was a _very_ pretty girl, somewhat
pale and grave looking.
Third; Tatewaki-sempai was standing by her, and basic
deduction told him that she must be the room's primary
tenant; Tatewaki's sister, who, he believed, was named
Kodachi.
Fourth; there were lots of places to put flowers, because
there were almost none already here.
These facts drew forth a chain of deductions, thusly;
a.) This was a hospital room.
1.) Belonging to Kuno Kodachi.
2.) Who is a very pretty girl.
3.) Who is, in addition, sick.
4.) In the hospital, in fact.
5.) Because of wounds sustained during Heroism.
A.) Which, he, himself had witnessed.
b.) There were almost no flowers in this room.
1.) Being a hospital room, belonging to Kodachi, etc.
2.) What flowers there were bore tags.
A.) That said Akane, Ranma or Tatewaki.
Therefore:
c.) Kodachi,
1.) Who was in the hospital.
2.) And a Hero.
3.) And a very pretty girl, too.
d.) Had, Almost No Flowers.
1.) Which was Bad.
2.) And would probably make her Unhappy.
3.) Which was Very Bad.
Moreover:
e.) He, Bosabosa Daisuke, had Flowers.
1.) Rather good ones.
2.) Which could be given to Kodachi.
A.) Who was a very pretty girl.
B.) Etcetera.
3.) Which would make her happy.
4.) Which would be a Good Thing.
f.) Kodachi had _not_, previously attended Furinkan.
1.) She had attended some other school.
A.) Which had not, apparently, sent Flowers.
1.) And was, therefor, Forever to be Damned.
2.) She might not be happy with the situation there.
g.) A good impression of Furinkan High School,
1.) As provided by, say, Bosabosa Daisuke.
2.) And possibly others (Grrr).
3.) As opposed to the Other School.
h.) Might induce her to transfer.
1.) To Furinkan.
2.) Which was co-ed.
3.) Where her brother already attended.
Which:
i.) Would increase the number of pretty girls at Furinkan.
1.) By at least one.
2.) Kodachi.
A.) Who was a very pretty girl.
B.) Etcetera.
j.) Which would be a Very Good Thing.
------------------------------------------------------------
The young man with the unruly hair had given her flowers.
This might, in itself, have been considered normal. Many
young men had given her flowers.
The interesting thing was; he had not, thereafter, asked her
for a date.
This was, in her experience, highly abnormal.
Moreover, many of the other people who had come to see
Sayuri, presumably her schoolmates, had _also_ given her
flowers. And none of them had asked her for a date, either.
Or for anything else. Not even obliquely.
It was almost enough to make her think that they liked her.
That was silly, of course, because they hadn't had any
opportunity to like her, or to know her at all. But still.
There was a small party going on. People had brought chips,
and other snacks. Someone had put a few packs of them on her
bed. For her to eat.
It was a nice party, for a hospital room.
She wished she could take part.
But she would have to lower the walls, and if she did that
....
She opened a bag of chips, and ate a few.
But there were such a lot of people around. If even a few of
them would break the force of anything ... bad ... that
happened, she could get them back up again.
But why would they do that? They didn't know her at all, and
they didn't seem to want anything from her. Or even know
that there was anything to be had.
She ate a few more chips. They weren't too bad.
Not bad at all, really.
------------------------------------------------------------
She watched Kodachi, furtively. It looked like she might be
opening up a bit. It was a _wonderful_ party. Well, for a
hospital room, anyway.
She steered the conversation a little bit, so that it would
include Kodachi, and watched her participate a little. It
was a hard thing to do, which she hadn't really had to do
before, and she didn't think she was doing it very well, but
nobody seemed to mind, or even notice much.
She stole a few more chips from Hiroshi, and tugged her
gowns tighter; defying their natural tendency to flop open.
------------------------------------------------------------
She ate a few more chips, and then a piece of pocky. They
were good.
Gravely, she considered her new flowers.
It occurred to her that _all_ of the flowers had been
brought by (and bought by) students of Furinkan. Akane-san,
Ranma-sensei and oniichan were students there too, after
all.
None of her schoolmates at St. Hebereke had sent her any
flowers. Not one. None of them had even _visited_.
Looking around, it _was_ a nice party.
It occurred to her that there might well be more important
things to look for in a school than exclusivity. When you
looked at things closely.
It occurred to her that, as of tonight, all of the people
who she might call her friends attended Furinkan.
It occurred to her that all of the people she knew at St.
Hebereke were either enemies, rivals or flunkies.
It occurred to her that flunkies weren't doing her much good
at the moment.
------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma was closeted closely with Sayuri, Dr. Tofu and
Tatewaki, propping herself on the bed where Kodachi could
hear. They were discussing strategies for therapy and
coordinating the therapies that would happen in the
hospital, with those that Sayuri and Kodachi would have to
go through after they got out.
"Okay, Kodachi-chan," Sayuri said, perkily, "that's the
schedule for the hospital sorted out. Do you think we could
keep working together after we get out. Some of these things
are really boring."
Kodachi smiled, for what felt like the first time in weeks,
"I think so, Sayuri-chan. Tatewaki-oniisan?"
Tatewaki blinked, and looked down. "Yes, Imouto-chan?"
"Please have the family lawyers start the necessary
administrative tasks to have me transferred to Furinkan."
"Yeee-ha!" Sayuri leapt up into the air, clapping her hands.
Her hands, being thus occupied, could not tighten the ties
on her hospital gowns.
These, therefor, in conjunction with the most basic
characteristics of their tribe, untied. Which left nothing
at all to hold up the gowns. Which, thereupon, fell down.
Yuka and Akane immediately whapped Hiroshi and Daisuke on
the back of the head.
"What?!" the Average Pair demanded, in unison.
"Hentai." Akane and Yuka explained, not unkindly, also in
unison.
"We didn't even look!" Daisuke complained.
"Well you should have." Akane replied.
"We didn't get a _chance_ to look,=." Hiroshi said at the
same time. Yuka whapped him again. "Ow!"
Tatewaki and Dr. Tofu simultaneously put their heads into
their hands, in pain.
Ranma, calmly stood up and handed Sayuri, who was eeping and
trying to cover herself, her gowns.
And Kodachi dissolved into giggles, helplessly.
Sayuri hugged her and the other students gathered around to
congratulate her on transferring.
It was a beginning.
You may build your walls as high and strong as you may
choose. You may lay your roof and floor. But you have not
built yourself a house, until you've built yourself a door.
------------------------------------------------------------
It was late, and the sky was dark and shot with stars.
As they left the hospital, Ranma and Akane walked closely
together, talking. But eventually they came to the street
that led, down one way, to the Tendo Dojo, and down another,
to Ranma's apartment. Here they paused for a while.
Finally, they parted, one to go one way, one the other. As
they walked, each alone, at nearly the same time, they each
began to sing, quietly.
Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
I see the passion in your eyes
Sometimes it's all a big surprise
It was probably coincidence. Certainly they were each, by
that point, far out of the other's hearing. There really was
no way that they could be coordinating with each other. So,
despite the fact that a hypothetical careful observer would
have noted that they were in tune and in time, it must have
been coincidence. There really wasn't any other explanation.
Cause there was a time when all I did was wish
You'd tell me this was love
It's not the way I hoped or how I planned
But somehow it's enough
It could have been something of an omen, I suppose, but it
wasn't.
But now we're standing face-to-face
Isn't this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
The astute reader may have noticed, in this chapter, several
instances of occurrences that would, in a normal Ranmaverse,
have called for Omens of Doom. Thunder from a clear sky,
family altars suddenly breaking, visits from strange monks,
that sort of thing. The astute reader may be wondering why
such Omens haven't shown up.
All of the nights you came to me
When some silly girl had set you free
I wondered how you'd make it through
I wondered what was wrong with you
It's a fair question.
Cause how could you give your love to someone else
And share your dreams with me
Sometimes the very thing you're looking for
Is the one thing you can't see
The answer is fairly simple. These things are taken care of
by kami. Not very big, or important kami, it is true, but
kami nevertheless. Lurking about celestially and waiting for
omen-worthy events and causing an omen when necessary is
simply these kami's job.
But now we're standing face-to-face
Isn't this world a crazy place
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
And, like all jobs, its holders occasionally take some time
off.
Sometimes the very thing you're looking for
Is the one thing you can't see
The holder of the position for Nerima ward, at the present
moment, is a kami named Waruyoi Asabitan. He is presently
living up to his name, drunk out of his mind in a club in
Chiba, karaokeing like there will be no tomorrow.
Sometimes the snow comes down in June
Sometimes the sun goes round the moon
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
So, you see, I can state with absolute authority that any
coincidental timing that a hypothetical careful observer
might have noted was, in fact, just that. Coincidental, and
not any sort of omen at all.
You went and saved the best for last, yeah.
What can I say? Some days are just Like That.
You went and saved the best for last, yeah.
------------------------------------------------------------
Next:
Chapter Seven: If You Meet The Buddha On The Road
Part A: The Eye That Does Not See Itself.
Yours very respectfully,
Eric Hallstrom, CC, PhD, UBIP,etc.
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