"And welcome to another exciting edition of... Digging for Maximals!"
-- Jetstorm, Beast Machines
------------------------------------------------------------
The Wheel of Fire, #27: Burning Eyes
Written by Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NYChotmail.com)
http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/ranma/ranff.html
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and characters belong to Rumiko
Takahashi. And all that other good stuff. Proper
licenses belong to respective properties and
characters. The manga has precedence over material in
the anime.
This file can be freely distributed so long as it
appears in its complete form and proper credit given.
No part may be reproduced for monetary gain without
permission from the author.
Fanart can be found at:
http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/fanart/index.html
------------------------------------------------
"Good news for you, Ranma," Nabiki said as she
entered the Tendo dining room with a poster in her
hand.
The entirety of the Tendo household sat around the
table sharing breakfast that morning. Ranma, who sat
with his back turned to Nabiki, glanced over his
shoulder quickly. "Yeah?"
"It's another contest," the middle Tendo sister said.
"And there's a free trip to China attached to it."
Ranma's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Right."
The martial artist sighed. Ever since the showdown
at the Saint Hebereke Church everything seemed to
change: Kuno, Mousse, and Shampoo disappeared that
same night. Senryu Nishimura, formerly under the
assumed name Amakusa, left on some sort of spiritual
journey, but not before leaving Ranma both jade dragon
earrings. Shizuka and Hokuto disappeared, too, but
not for long; the priestess and the apprentice showed
up the next day at the Tendo residence, and to Ranma's
annoyance they explained everything to the others.
Which was why Nabiki was offering her 'help.'
"It's a talent show," she explained. "It's run by the
Tokuyama Agency, who're looking for talented people, as
usual. You don't even have to be a girl for this!"
"Sounds too good to be true," Ranma replied,
directing his attentions back to his meal.
"But it's not something you can just ignore," Akane
argued. "Winning a talent show should be simple for a
guy like you."
Soun and Genma nodded in agreement.
"The heir to the Tendo dojo should be very talented
indeed," Soun encouraged.
"It'll be a nice gesture," Nodoka added, appealing to
Hokuto's slow death.
"Uggh," Ranma groaned, "I'll give it a shot."
"Good for you!" Nabiki exclaimed, splashing a bucket
of water on the martial artist.
Shaking off the water on her head, Ranma was up on
her feet, turned toward Nabiki. "What'd you do that
for?!"
Nabiki smirked. "As your personal manager and
arranger, I only said you didn't HAVE to be a girl.
I'm saying you have to for what I've got in mind."
"And what would that be?!" demanded soaked Ranma.
Kodachi stared at the odd, bird-like statue sitting
in the corner of the dark antique shop. Its eyes were
far too large to belong to any sort of bird, yet the
squat statue looked vaguely familiar nonetheless.
"Ah, Kuno..." the old shopkeeper muttered, scratching
his chin. Adjusting the glasses resting on his nose,
he said, "Yep, came in here couple nights ago. What of
it?"
"I am his sister," Kodachi replied, bowing
respectfully to the shopkeeper. "I understand this is
the very shop he purchased a Phoenix Egg from?"
"Mmmhmm," affirmed the shopkeeper. "Not that I
believe in such things, mind you... but that's the kind
of stuff he wanted."
"What exactly did he purchase the previous visit?"
she asked. When Tatewaki left for America a couple days
ago the younger Kuno noticed that he was taking an old-
looking tome along with him. It was hardly a bother to
figure out where he got it from, and Kodachi was happy
to know that her guess was correct.
The merchant shrugged. "He bought some dusty-old
book about the Phoenix Sword, not that I believe in
that nonsense. It's supposed to be some kind of manual
left by previous owners of the Phoenix Egg."
"Oh really?" Kodachi raised an eyebrow. "What were
the precise contents?"
Waving a finger in her direction, the merchant said,
"You're a clever one! I've got an abridged version,
too."
Kodachi blinked in surprise as the merchant produced
a thin, paperback book from under a table. He raised it
up into the light, the title clearly displaying: "How
to Use a Phoenix Sword, Abridged, 127th Edition."
The merchant flipped through a couple pages. "He
wanted to know how many times he could use it before
burning out."
"Give me that!" Kodachi yelled, reaching for the
manual.
But the merchant was too quick, pulling the abridged
manual out of reach. "I'm sorry, lady, but this is the
last copy I have. I wouldn't part with it even if you
slapped a wad of bills across my face."
Instead, Kodachi swung a mallet across the merchant's
face, sending the manual up into the air.
"Sold!" he declared.
Catching the abridged manual in her hands, Kodachi
laughed. "Well now, free is definitely a good price!"
Rubbing his sore cheeks, the merchant muttered, "Good
thing I've got the 128th Edition lined up...."
* * * * *
To: warlock@spielburg.org
From: blackwidow@northspire.net
Subject: Current Job
He took the bait, just as we hoped. The dealings on my
end are working smoothly, and I sincerely appreciate
the exchange of tasks-- this is much more serviceable
than actual flimsy cash.
In any case I find the last bit of information you sent
to be rather... disturbing. If you don't mind keep a
lid on this bit; I think I can find a way to use it to
my advantage. If the girl reacts in the manner I think
she will, then perhaps we CAN get rid of her.
BTW, you want to get a cup of coffee?
- Black Widow
--------------------------------------------------
"Go! Super Robot Life Form Transformers!"
-- Lame Title of the Week
* * * * *
To: blackwidow@northspire.net
From: warlock@spielburg.org
Subject: Re: Current Job
Do whatever you wish with the information.
I prefer this method of payment much more than actual
physical cash because it helps build customer
relationships. Surely you understand the advantages of
this-- one favor deserves another. It also keeps money
in our respective accounts, barring usual expenses, of
course.
Feel free to join in on the action if you wish. I have
assurances from my clients that it will not affect
their own plans. If the subject indeed does appear as
you say, then you should have no problems for yourself.
P.S. I don't drink coffee.
Have a nice day.
- Warlock
+-------------------------------------+
| Welcome to Suzie Quan's Taco Palace |
| Would you like fries with that? |
+-------------------------------------+
* * * * *
Shion sent off the reply just as his sister-in-law
barged into his room, slamming the door open with
enthusiastic force, and causing the hacker to jump in
his seat.
Fuming with startled anger, Shion failed to decipher
whatever it was Chika was saying. "KNOCK NEXT TIME!!"
Cowering for a moment, his anger was hardly enough to
contain Chika's excitement. "There's going to be a
talent contest!"
The older mercenary grimaced, his anger cooling down
to normal. "So?"
"I'm thinking about entering it," she replied. "I
think you should, too."
"And do what?" Shion asked, folding his arms. "Show
them how to fake IDs?"
"No, I...." She caught herself. "Oh, never mind."
He shook his head, wishing for the millionth time
that the girl knew how to think before getting all
emotional about the most trivial things. Good thing it
wasn't a spider.
"So what are you going to do?" Shion asked finally.
"Huh?"
"What are you going to show off as your 'talent?'"
"Oh, that!" Chika's eyes brightened; if they got any
brighter they could replace a desk lamp. "Well, since
everybody already knows how I can make cool movies, I
was thinking of showing off one of my videos."
"I thought you were better known for the photos," he
pointed out.
"Well, that too."
"And what's so 'talented' about that?"
"Not a whole lot of people can do it like I can!"
"And you think you can beat wanna-be idol singers?"
"You grouch!" Chika accused, giggling like a school
girl-- not that she wasn't in the first place. "It's
not about the winning I want."
"Ah," Shion said, realizing what the little mercenary
wanted. He sat down against his seat, folding his arms
behind his head. "So you really think some big media
firm might see that, eh?"
"Mmm-hmm!" she confirmed, nodding excitedly. "This
could be my big break!"
"Heh, heh," chuckled Shion. "You really think some
big studio would want a little girl like you? One that
isn't even out of high school yet, to boot!"
He knew it was entirely possible, but for some
unexplainable reason the older mercenary felt it good
to jab ribs. And yet Shion played it well enough that
Chika hardly seemed to notice in her fantasies.
It was either playing it well, or obviousness on
the part of the girl.
Perhaps it was a good thing that the contest would be
held the next Sunday-- it would be interesting to watch
the kid pour her soul into her best work for a week.
The essence of being a priestess takes great
concentration and a center of balance, Shizuka told
herself mentally.
Then again, it was still all a bunch of drivel and
garbage, too. Every priestess or priestess in training
at the Shrine of the Four Gods undergoes rigorous
training and disciplining in order to determine which
among them would be granted the right to challenge the
seven spirit warriors of one of the Four Gods. Even
then, whoever became the miko, or Speaker of the Gods,
had to put up with a back seat driver for the rest of
their natural existence.
Her head was hanging a few centimeters below the
ceiling as she suspended herself in the air in a
meditative trance. The room she called home, something
no larger than a closet for such a small apartment,
was bare, save for a neat pile rolled in one corner,
which consisted of her bed roll, a couple changes of
clothes, and a few hidden weapons. All her other
belongings were on her person, hidden in the folds of
her robes.
Shizuka clamped her eyes more tightly shut, feeling
the pounding in her head growing in intensity. Silently
she cursed, for the umpteenth time, her mentors back
at the Shrine of the Four Gods.
A sound issued from the doorway, opening wide.
And breaking Shizuka's concentration.
She crashed head first to the floor as Hokuto
barged into that bedroom of the Minazuki house, the
single rope suspending her from the ceiling snapping
free from its hook.
Hokuto looked around in the empty bedroom, wondering
why anyone would try to shove everything into the
closet and the hallway just to meditate. The boa
constrictor, Thanatos, was also running loose somewhere
in the house, too. She shook her head.
"Don't tell me you're STILL doing it upside-down?"
she asked.
The priestess of Genbu slowly gathered herself, the
blood rushing out of her head even quicker. "All a
matter of discipline," she explained.
"Stupidity is more like it," Hokuto said with a
sigh. "If mankind was meant to hang upside-down from
ceilings God would've made us bats."
"Shut up," the priestess snarled, untying her feet
from the suspending rope. There was no reason to make
the apprentice look smart, even if Shizuka did agree
with her words. "What do you want?"
Hokuto sat down on her knees, and produced a poster
from behind her. "It's a talent show that's going to be
held next Sunday," she said. "I shouldn't care about it
except for the fact that the grand prize is a trip for
two to China."
"And why do I care?" Shizuka asked sarcastically.
"It's too convenient, but if I get Ranma to China,
and then to Jusenkyo, I can get rid of the curse."
Shizuka shook her head. "You're right, it's TOO
convenient. And I've got better things to do with my
time."
"But I'm going to do it anyway," Hokuto decided. "I
think you should, too, just to increase our chances
of...."
"No," the priestess said adamantly.
"Why not?"
"I only do those tricks for kids."
"C'mon, I'm your friend!" she pouted.
"You're also not thinking rationally," Shizuka
pointed out. "That bloody fate-link thing's got you
doing it."
"No it hasn't!" Hokuto yelled angrily. "I'll never
give in to that stupid curse!"
"You're giving in now."
"NO I'M NOT!!"
"Kid," the priestess said, despite being Hokuto's
junior, "I've got no idea what it's like being you, or
being Ukyo, or whoever... but it's not you wanting to
do this. Ranma is getting you to do it."
"I've still got my own choice, and I'm CHOOSING to do
this!"
Shizuka sighed. Although she knew Hokuto for a
collected time of only a couple weeks, the changes were
becoming rapidly apparent to the priestess of Genbu.
While she did prefer Hokuto's food over Kyoko's, it
just didn't sit well, knowing that another girl, Ukyo,
was quite the same in this regard. And yet, Hokuto was
still her friend....
"Fine, Kid," she said, caving-in. "Let's see what we
can come up with."
He played a sorrowful tune on the recorder, his
fingers playing over the wind instrument's holes with
delicate mastery.
Sitting on the cliff toward the setting sun he lost
himself in his music, musing on his next course of
action. The pawns were being drawn to the edge, where
the queen and her rooks wait to spring the trap, the
king as bait. Pawns are killed easily in a delicate
chess match such as this, and the musician was but one
of the knights, traveling in odd directions, yet the
right direction nonetheless.
And now movement has put him back into distance of
the bait, the king. Not quite checkmate... not yet, but
close. While avoiding the trickery of the queen and
her traps it is entirely possible to eliminate the king
with the pawns. Yet, it was extremely difficult to do
so with but one knight to aid them.
No, one pawn was ready to reach the edge now-- ready
to promote to the next piece. This pawn, he knew, would
make a suitable queen if aided properly, a rook
otherwise. Yet the queen was so much better, and the
role has yet to be filled, ever since the previous
queen was eliminated from play.
There were way too many pawns.
Another one.... The knight continued in his notes as
he realized there was a rook left in play. Very
straight-forward in mannerisms, the rook was ready and
willing to go to great lengths to get to where he was
needed. Yes, he, too, could be instrumental in the
flourish of the queen, if only the knight could drag
him away from the pawns.
Both bishops were gone, only recently removed from
the board. The bishop was willing to move at great
distances, like the rook, but was unwilling to step
into certain areas. Although the pieces have changed
much over time now the king's only protection was but a
single knight, rook, and a whole mess of pawns.
Others may believe him mad for thinking of the
situation in terms of a chess match, yet the analogy
may well be a good one. The catch was the identity of
the opposing king, to which the knight had no clue as
to the identity. Yet, he felt it was close at hand, and
when that time came the game would end.
He concluded his recital, bowing respectfully to the
setting sun, his sole audience of the evening. Looking
eastward, toward the darkness of night, the knight
made his move.
Toward Tokyo.
"The plan unfolds to expectations," a voice said,
scrambled by machine.
The receiver of the words in turn stood cloaked in
shadow of the alley, away from the lights of the
streets of Tokyo. While stray thugs may well get the
jump on the two occupants of the alley both were well
prepared.
"Good," said the other, using a light scrambler of
her own. "Did you make sure to include... him?"
Though hidden by shadows, the hidden man nodded. "A
simple matter to make the pieces fall in place. The
Tokuyama Agency is still hungry and hurting after the
loss of their biggest money-maker a few months ago.
While they still garner a modest amount of cash from
other ventures, they can't resist finding a big break
again. Especially not with such a big pool of untapped
talent. Wanna-be idol singers always win."
"Are you certain he truly wishes to travel to China?"
asked the woman.
"He will," confirmed the informer. "Of course, by all
accounts I hardly believe he'll actually win the
competition. More is expected of men than women. And by
all accounts he doesn't sing; karaoke is likely to be
the winner of the day for both sides."
"Doesn't matter," the other assured him. "I just want
him there." She produced a stack of yen and handed it
to the informer.
"Ah, right on time," the informer said, slapping the
bills against his open palm.
"You'd better come through for me," warned the
woman. "Or I'll deal with you along with... him."
"Heh, don't sweat it; it's all up to you now. Happy
trails."
Nodding wordlessly to each other the buyer and the
informer exited at opposite ends of the alley, both
vanishing into the night.
Next Sunday
Nabiki folded her arms in satisfaction as she
stood supervising Ranma's training in the Tendo dojo.
For less than a week's time Nabiki spent her time
'training' Ranma for the talent show, in what she
termed 'Anything-Goes Stage Performance' in order to
get the poor boy motivated. It helped somewhat if Ranma
thought about something in terms of 'training' in
martial arts, and for this case she reasoned that it
would help steady his concentration and bolster his
already-huge confidence.
Ego was more like it, though.
Beside that, he was training as a girl.
Nabiki couldn't believe she was having as much luck
with this plan than the previous schemes she cooked up
in the past weeks. Ever since systematically
dissolving their singing group for personal reasons
none of her schemes seemed to work out, from forcing
Ranma and Akane to fully accept, embrace, and otherwise
express their feelings to one another and for others
to see to simply getting more money. If Ranma and Akane
ever did remove their barriers life would be much more
interesting-- they hardly kissed as they are.
But today, with the help of Warlock, things were
finally going her way. Nabiki believed it pure luck
that the man of the dubious identity wished to create
such a production, and with her help and connections
was able to set up this talent show in no time flat.
Nabiki quickly renewed her relations with the Tokuyama
Agency and was offered a good pay for her help in the
program.
Best of all, she got to decide the grand prize.
With all the training Nabiki was giving him... her,
Ranma would have no problem winning the contest and
the trip to China. Maybe then the freaky girl, Hokuto,
would leave town, and take the snake/turtle/shotgun
girl with her, too.
Not that there wasn't the other piece of information
that could do the same job just as well, if used
properly.
She lifted up her wrist to check the time, then
clapped loudly to grab Ranma's attention. "Okay, that's
enough!"
Ranma stopped in her routine. "Izzit time to go
already?"
Nabiki nodded. "You go on ahead; your things should
already be there-- trailer six." She tossed a set of
keys to her.
"You SURE I'm going to win?" she asked, catching the
keys easily with one hand.
"What makes you think you can lose?" Nabiki replied
coolly. "I'd say you've got your training down pat."
"Yeah, and then someone else's going to come in and
beat me."
"That's why you're not going as a guy-- guys are
usually too good for the kind of thing you're going to
do."
"Yeah right," scoffed Ranma, heading for the door.
The middle Tendo girl watched her leave wordlessly,
a smirk forming on her lips. As soon as she was
alone she muttered, "Well, Warlock, whatever you wanted
Ranma for, you're definitely not going to get him in
the form you wanted."
A premonition shocked the spine of Shion Kagami as
he sat in front of his computer.
His work forgotten, Shion turned in his seat,
clutching the back of his head in wracking pain, his
glasses dropping down to the floor.
"What have I done?" he asked himself, suddenly
sweating.
Shion fell forward out of his seat, nearly crushing
his glasses as he came down, and realized for the first
time what it truly felt to have a conscience attack.
Two days prior he caught Chika in his room, sitting
at HIS computer, likely looking for more hard drive
space for her home movie editing. And when he caught
her she was looking at his confidential files.
Lesson one: never leave confidential information in
a place where anybody can find it, especially not on
the desktop.
Lesson two: never label it as confidential
information.
Lesson three: put a password on your computer to keep
prying sisters out of it.
Needless to say, Chika, being the curious type, did
look through the information currently logged in the
folder, consisting of information of the Black Widow
job. While Shion was pleased that his dealings in the
talent show hardly called for computer searches, and
the fact that most of the deal went through with
physical hands, he was angry nonetheless that such
information changed hands again.
Chika demanded to know the price of the information
he sold to Black Widow Nabiki, but Shion brushed it
off. Yet, somewhere, a sense of morality welled from
the girl, and she became quite angry. She wished he
never distributed that information in the first place,
while Shion argued that it was being paid for in true
mercenary fashion.
"I'm a mercenary!" Shion pointed out. "So are you!
It means you never take one side in an argument. It
means you work for whoever pays you the most money, and
even then working both sides is good! And most
definitely it means you don't second-guess yourself!"
"Then I don't want to be a mercenary!" Chika
countered. "If what it means to be one is what YOU
are then I don't want anything to do with it! You may
have made me, but I'm UNMAKING me."
"How can you live with yourself?" she continued.
"How can you, Shion? Have you no conscience? Is money
really worth all the pain and suffering you put
others in, even ones you LOVE?!"
"I... I don't know what you're talking about!" he
stuttered.
"Don't try hiding it. I saw you, you... monster!"
After exiling Chika from his room Shion put into
effect his new safety measures, and continued business
as usual... until now.
"Why now?" he whispered. "Why now?!"
Maybe it wasn't too late! he realized.
Nabiki Tendo... she's the one with the key. All I
have to do is bolt the door tighter, and maybe....
Shaking his head, Shion sat up, grabbing his glasses
from the floor.
There has to be something I can use to stop her
with... and on such short notice!
Shizuka crashed down to the floor head first after
Hokuto slashed the rope suspending her from the
ceiling with a Viper sword.
"Hey!" the priestess cried. "What'd you do that
for?!"
Sheathing the sword, Hokuto looked down at Shizuka.
"It's time to go. What in the world were you doing
this for?"
"I'll let you know when my head explodes from the
built-up pressure," she assured the other girl,
"provided I don't blow up on YOU first!"
Hokuto snorted, folding her arms. "Dumb ass. Lighten
up for once!"
The priestess got up to her feet, her eye level
raised slightly higher than the apprentice's eyes.
"It was your idea, so let's get it over with."
The other girl nodded, wrapping her traveling cloak
around herself tightly. Shizuka's eyes narrowed,
following Hokuto out the door before grabbing her
shotgun and Viper swords.
Nabiki surveyed the turnout for the talent show
from the V.I.P. booth near the edge of the stage. Many
teenagers from all around Tokyo came to the Tokuyama-
sponsored event, and the president himself, seated next
to her, was all smiles.
The two sat next to the panel of five judges,
selected out of the chair of the show committee. While
Nabiki and Tokuyama could not cast their own votes,
Tokuyama was on hand in order to break ties. Nabiki
was there as a courtesy alone, and as an extra nudge to
old, out-of-touch company presidents when the decision
time did come.
Committee pay was also due.
A list of sixty-four contestants, each given five
minutes of stage time, consisted of the course of the
day. Give or take all the setup time, Nabiki estimated
that the show would take up all day. Ranma was saved
for the end of the list-- not last, but certainly
near the last.
After all, it was the last that lingered in the
impressions of the judges. It was a calculated risk, as
those going first will become the measuring stick, but
Nabiki believed it worth the risk.
Even then, there was always Akane, near the middle of
the list. Two aces should prove workable.
And that was only the girls' contest; the boys'
contest took place simultaneously, but elsewhere, as
Nabiki knew more attention would be paid to girls. Not
to mention the boys' contest would be boring-- all
guys sounded the same to her.
The biggest competition Nabiki believed was Chika
Hisho, who was entering a home-made movie, and showed-
off dead last in the listing. While the idea alone
hardly dented what she had in mind Nabiki knew that
this girl was extremely talented and resourceful. As
one of the few non-karaoke entries, it definitely
would stand out in the show. Yet, things have been
taken care of in that respect, too.
Ah, the number of guys in the crowd... this should be
a piece of cake, Nabiki thought. Everything has gone
according to plan, and not even the demon priest can
do anything about it.
Shion focused the sight scope between Nabiki Tendo's
eyes, and suddenly realized how futile it was.
From his hiding position raised above the open-air
amphitheater the hacker-turned-assassin lowered his
piece-made crossbow, took off his glasses and brushed
his forehead. He set down the crossbow, the same
weapon he used to fire a poison dart at Amakusa before,
down on the ground. There was nothing left to do but
wait, and even then it was too late to do anything
about it; the damage has been done.
The only thing left to do is make sure that she left
Chika alone, otherwise there would be problems for
Black Widow Nabiki down the line.
Inferiority was a feeling totally alien to her.
She ran through the dark alleys of the morning city
light, running not from any one person or threat, but
for....
The tears welling in her eyes blinded her, causing
her to trip on an unseen obstacle in the middle of the
road, throwing up grime after the impact with the
ground. She wanted to keep running, but found there was
no strength left to get up.
There was only enough energy left in her to mentally
abuse herself.
Above the sobbing she heard someone approach her from
behind. Her back exposed to the sky, she could not see
who the newcomer was, but it was clear that his
intentions were hardly honorable.
"Well, well," he said in a gruff, throaty voice.
"Looks like I picked myself up a new one."
"Careful," warned another man, the girl realizing
she couldn't feel his presence. "You saw her runnin'.
Could be really feisty."
"No prob." Cracking knuckles. "She looks pooped from
all that runnin'."
She felt his big arms around her, and she remained
limp, hardly resisting the touch. "C'mon, we're taking
her back to my place."
The second man made a step back. "Damn, man, this
early in the mornin'?"
"You want me to come back later?" replied the first
jokingly. "Nah, cute birds like this don't come my way
this many times."
"Well, get the bitch to stop cryin' and I'll feel
better. We'd draw too much attention, given her garb."
"Don't worry, we ain't takin' the surface streets."
Lost in herself, the girl felt her surroundings
succumb into blackness. It was several heartbeats
later and many plodding feet in wet ground before she
realized they were in a building, and climbing stairs
at that. The two men stopped at the third floor, an
apartment complex, and they entered.
She was tossed unceremonially onto a soft bed, then
both men exited the bedroom. Though the door was not
wide open it was open enough that she could tell that
the two men were arguing about who would get their turn
first.
And then the first man entered, closing off all light
sources to the bedroom. He shut the door behind him,
locking it carefully with a key and throwing it on a
nearby dresser.
"Well, gorgeous," the thug said, peeling off his
shirt, "how do you want to start?"
The girl sniffed once, wiping the tears from her
face. Then she laughed.
"What's so funny?" demanded the thug. "Don'cha know
you're gonna get laid by the sexiest stud this side of
town?"
However, the girl couldn't stop laughing, sitting up
in the bed. The thug stepped cautiously closer to the
bed, doubt entering his mind for the first time.
"You foolish little man," she said at last. "Don't
you have any idea of what you're dealing with?" She
wiped her face with her arm, her eyes containing fiery
irony all around. "No, of course not. How ironic, that
the one girl you happen to kidnap off the streets of
Tokyo is completely the wrong kind."
The thug blinked in confusion. "W... what are you
sayin'?" He edged back toward the dresser, and to the
key that remained his only obstacle to freedom from the
possessed girl.
Her aura burst into crimson flames.
Standing on the bed he laid so many girls on, the
girl dressed in the dirty priestess vestments slid a
pair of swords down her sleeves into her waiting hands.
Shizuka Minazuki, looking as if possessed by a demon,
exploded into anger. "Because, ASSHOLE, you picked the
one and only INFERTILE GIRL ON THE STINKING PLANET!!"
Nabiki stirred the cup of coffee bored as Yuka and
Sayuri exited the stage together, after putting on
their singing number. While they were by no means bad,
they weren't really terrific, either.
The stage was quickly reset for the next contestant,
their friend, Akane.
She stepped on stage with much anticipation from the
audience, dressed in an idol costume. Nabiki already
knew how things would turn out for her, and therefore
everything should be a piece of cake for victory.
Akane gave a bow, and picked up the microphone set up
on stage for her.
* * * * *
Akane's Lullaby
Since you're
always stretching (aren't you?)
surely you're
tired out (aren't you?).
When I watch your sleepy face, I get that feeling.
So,
Good night, good night, good night,
I'll sing for you
Akane's lullaby.
If I should appear
in your dreams (you know),
I want very much
to be gentle to you (you know).
It's probably unreasonable, I know, but...
It's all right,
Good night, good night, good night,
I'll sing for you
Akane's lullaby.
Tonight,
Good night, good night, good night,
I'll sing for you
Good night, good night, good night,
I'll sing for you...
* * * * *
The hunter weaved through the crowds with persistent
yearning, frantically wondering what to do.
Ranma Saotome was not on the list of guys that
was competing for the talent show, as she hoped, but
there WAS someone that bore the same name in the girl's
show. Could something have gone wrong?
She, the buyer, who arranged for the show to occur
herself, silently cursed Fate. Ranma Saotome was a guy,
not a girl! What are the odds of a girl bearing the
same name living in the same town, even!
Yet her contact made guarantees that he would be
there. He HAD to be around the amphitheater SOMEWHERE.
But, what if the girl was related to the guy? A
hostage? That was a risky gamble, she knew, but it
was worth looking into.
When the door came down the second thug thought it
was already his turn, but when the half-naked friend of
his was sprawled on the floor with multiple slash
marks on him, he began to fear for himself.
Shizuka trampled over the beaten man, and feast her
bloodlusting eyes on the second thug, her aura flaring
with greater intensity. "YOU'RE NEXT, CHIMP!!"
Thug Number Two squeaked in terror, scrambling for
the apartment exit, but Shizuka was there, a blur of
motion too quick for the eye to see. She raised her
Viper swords in a cross bar, grinning evilly.
"Come now," she snarled, "don't you want YOUR fix as
well?"
He stepped back, holding his arms before him. "N...
now wait a minute! Can't we talk about this?" At this
point doing a virgin priestess seemed like a REALLY
bad idea.
"You should've listened to yourself earlier, chimp,"
Shizuka said. "Otherwise, you'd never feel the
operation I'm about to hand to you!"
Number Two threw a quick glance over at Number One,
and immediately felt his friend's pain. "N... no!!"
"We can have two IMPOTENT BASTARDS!!" cried the mad
priestess. "Shall we do this the EASY way?" She
smirked. "Or the HARD way?"
And then Number Two thought he was soiling himself
now.
"Stop!"
The attentions of both Shizuka and Two turned toward
the source of the voice. Where no one stood before
there stood a third man, dressed in dark colors, yet
they were priestly vestments similar to Shizuka's. His
hair was aged white, with Fu-manchu style beard and
mustache. In his right hand he waved a feather fan
casually, holding his left hand outstretched.
"WAIT YOUR TURN!!" screamed the priestess.
"Is this what they teach you at the Shrine of the
Four Gods?" he asked Shizuka. "If it is I am quite
disappointed."
"Shut up!"
"Taking out your anger and aggression on these men
will do little to alleviate your anger," the old man
pointed out. "But, if you do choose to move against
him... I must point out that I have had many more years
of practice than you have, child."
And then, the mad priestess rocketed toward the old
man.
Startled, the priest nevertheless carried out his
threat, throwing a white focused energy beam at the
priestess of Genbu. Shizuka struggled against the
oncoming attack, but felt her strength being drained
as she tried futily to force herself forward.
She collapsed face-first on the floor, dropping her
Viper swords to each side of her. For the first time
Shizuka realized she was up against a force barrier, a
common technique used to make the opponent expend all
their energy.
The old priest turned to face Thug Number Two. "I
suggest you do not move, lest you rouse my own anger!"
The warning issued, he retreated back to the bedroom,
careful to avoid the fallen thug, and retrieved the
sheathes of Shizuka's swords. When he returned to the
living room the second thug stood exactly where he was
before. The priest sheathed both swords, and tied them
to his waist.
He bent down and scooped up the drained girl in his
arms, then silently turned to leave.
Shizuka looked up at her captor with weary eyes. She
eyed the pattern of the priest's robes with recognition
in her eyes. "Who are you?"
The old man smiled. "Higure Furui. And I am pleased
that you know that I am an Orochi priest."
Hokuto forced herself to walk on stage.
Far too late to turn back, the apprentice priestess
tried to shove all external thoughts from her person,
but none of it would go away. With the sudden
disappearance of Shizu on the way to the show Hokuto
wondered if the sometime-performer somehow got stage
fright.
That's ridiculous. Shizu's been putting on
performances for years.
Backstage, during Shizu's noticeable absence, Hokuto
had extra time to spare to set up, but it was hardly
necessary. Instead, she spent time chatting with the
stagehands, veterans of Tokuyama events such as this.
"Stage fright," one said.
"Maybe had some kind of emergency?" was another.
"Realized how stupid this was?" also came up.
Only the last two seemed to fit Shizu's thoughts, but
the third option was hardly characteristic in this late
a stage.
When she finished that thought Hokuto was at the
center of the stage, right where the microphone was
mounted.
Hundreds of eyes, belonging to boys and girls alike,
were directed toward the cloaked girl, waiting to see
what would come up.
And Hokuto truly knew what stage fright was.
"H... hello," she began, nervously stuttering.
Murmurs ran like a wave throughout the audience.
"Hey!" someone shouted. "That's a GUY!"
Hokuto forced herself to ignore the moron's comment.
It wouldn't be the first time, and she hardly
understood why it happened.
Shizu... she thought, if this were you doing this,
you wouldn't be so... dippy.
The microphone screeched loudly, followed by a
series of yells in pain from the offending noise.
No, don't say sorry, she reminded herself. Just get
on with it. Just think of what Shizu would do.
She waited for the music to start. It seemed like
an eternity as Hokuto imagined the stagehands
working to play something as simple as a compact disc.
When it started, she threw off her cloak and
revealed a red kimono.
* * * * *
Sakura (Cherry Blossoms)
It blooms in the spring, the cherry blossom of hope.
Flowers and storms cause it to bloom.
With a flutter, it expands dreams.
Let's join together, you and I.
It blooms in the summer, the radiant cherry blossom.
Love and courage cause it to bloom.
With sparkles, it brightens dreams.
Let's cross the rainbow of tomorrow.
Strong, violent, gentle sakura.
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura,
the color of the cherry blossom.
It blooms in the autumn, the crimson cherry blossom.
It's made to bloom in the red sunset.
Torn and smashed and even if the dream is crushed,
Let's wipe the tears and sing.
It blooms in the winter, the snow-cut cherry blossom.
By a pure heart, it is made to bloom.
High or steep, even if the dream is far away,
If you're here, I will climb it.
Strong, violent, gentle sakura.
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura,
the color of the cherry blossom.
Strong, violent, gentle sakura.
Blooming and displaying itself, sakura, sakura,
the color of the cherry blossom.
* * * * *
Ranma looked uncomfortable, Nabiki could tell. She
stood on stage dressed in an idol costume, the
microphone in her hand, waiting for her cue as the
music began.
"I'll have to admit," she said aloud to Tokuyama,
"I never thought he'd have the balls to do it again."
"Who? Ranma?" Tokuyama asked, glancing over at
Nabiki.
She nodded. "Well, if things are looking good,
judging from Akane, Ranma'd have no problem, with all
the special training I gave him."
"I see," the president said, nodding to himself.
"It's too bad, though, that we had to skip out on one
of the contestants. I was actually looking forward to
magic tricks-- it would've at least been different
than all these karaoke entries."
Nabiki offered a silent nod as Ranma began.
But a stream of emptiness running through the crowd
caught her attention more. Waves of people parted as
someone forced their way through the crowd from the
back toward the stage, and whoever got in the way was
thrown in the air.
Ranma apparently caught wind of the approaching
danger as well, as she ceased her song and focused her
eyes on the oncomer.
Nabiki got Tokuyama's attentions. "Cut the music!
Something's happening!"
The president smiled. "Part of your trick?"
"No!" she insisted. "Stop it, now!"
Just as Tokuyama gave the signal, a single person
leaped out of the crowd, ending the stream of
emptiness. Landing on stage was a woman, whose long
hair fell well over her hips to her legs. Her hands
were covered by matching black, arm-length rubber
gloves, and she wore knee-length boots to match. She
dressed in an unassuming, loose combat dress, tied off
loosely at the waist.
Blood-like crimson eyes pierced at Ranma's soul, and
Kolkhoz High's Miranda "Burning Eyes" Kusao was back.
"Miranda!" Ranma shouted in recognition. The red-eyed
martial artist was at the same time Kodachi's rival and
a thug previously for Saint Hebereke. A real pushover,
really; she couldn't lay a hand on Ranma in their
previous fight.
"Oh, my reputation precedes me?" Miranda said in
mock surprise. "I certainly don't remember knowing you,
but I must make enemies fast."
She pointed a gloved finger at her. "Or you really
ARE Ranma Saotome's relation."
Ranma rolled her eyes. "Well, duh."
Miranda steadied herself into a fighting stance, one
which Ranma noted that weight was shifted to the right
foot in the back. "Prepare yourself!"
Instead of the anticipated cutting hands, Miranda
somersaulted in the air forward with one leg extended,
falling in the same cutting motion that was typical of
her art. Ranma dodged to the side, knowing full well
the disadvantage of deflecting the momentum attack.
Half moon kick, she labelled.
The crimson-eyed martial artist landed on both feet
and threw circular saw kicks one after another,
alternating legs with each cut. Ranma caught one leg
in mid-swing, and was ready to throw Miranda until
she hopped forward with her free foot extended. The
booted leg smashed into Ranma's exposed neck, forcing
her to release her grip. In the same quick motion
Miranda used her now-free leg to attack: spinning in a
horizontal axis with her body another blow tacked the
other end of Ranma's neck.
Ranma grabbed both legs clamped to her neck, gritting
her teeth. How the hell did she get so strong?!
Bending back Miranda planted her hands onto the stage
ground and flipped over, carrying Ranma with her.
Ranma managed to get her head oriented away from a
direct collision, but ended up with her back to the
stage.
The crowd shared Ranma's pain as the oohs and ahhs
passed through in waves.
Miranda got up to her feet, and watched as Ranma did
the same, albeit slowly.
"You're nothing like the real Ranma," Miranda said
in disappointment. "He was far tougher than you are!"
"Feh, yeah sure," Ranma spat, trying to catch her
breath.
"But I am curious of one thing," the attacker
admitted. "Why is it that your brother...."
"Not my brother," interrupted Ranma.
"Whoever!" she yelled. "It doesn't matter your
relation, but I want to see Ranma Saotome right here
and right now, or you'll pay in his place!"
Damn, Ranma thought, I've got to get out of here.
There's no way Miranda's gonna get what she wants while
I'm still here, and wearing this stupid outfit at that.
Now, if only....
She jumped into the air. Miranda jumped upward in
pursuit, flipping backward with one leg extended in a
reverse cutting motion. Ranma was thrown back down to
the ground by the anti-air attack, crashing on her back
once more.
Full moon kick.
"RANMA!" she heard, just before a kettle of warm
water clocked her. A large blanket followed soon
thereafter, allowing for a quick change of clothes.
Miranda smirked as the audience applauded when Ranma
threw off the blanket to reveal himself, back in his
street clothes and ready to fight.
"I don't know how you did that," she said, "but that
was a neat trick."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet!" Ranma promised.
The crowd chanted and cheered. The combatants
charged.
Ranma and Miranda threw jabs and cuts with their
fists and legs, neither gaining an advantage as they
deflected each others' attacks. Neither martial artist
showed signs of tiring.
I've got to get this girl outta here, Ranma reminded
himself.
Breaking off combat, he shouted, "Saotome School
Final Attack!" Leaping back, he turned and ran.
Heedless, Miranda pursued Ranma's retreat toward the
end of the stage. "Stand and fight, coward!"
Damn, it's not working!
The audience in the amphitheater continued to chant
Miranda's name with great enthusiasm.
"Dammit!" Shion cursed, as he lost sight of Ranma in
his crossbow's sight scope. All other issues forgotten,
the would-be assassin headed for the exit of the
rooftop vantage point, knowing full well what could go
wrong when the two martial artists were backstage.
Stagehands ran for cover, abandoning the equipment
being readied for the next performance as Ranma and
Miranda continued their fight backstage. Chika stood
by her equipment in terrified shock, and as the two
passed by her she finally got the sense to make
herself scarce.
The equipment consisted of a carefully-prepared
video program that would be projected onto a monitor
mounted on the stage, and it contained everything
Chika poured her heart into.
So when Ranma kicked Miranda into it, the parts and
pieces flying off it hardly made her happy.
Miranda staggered with her back against the
electronics, and jumped straight up to avoid Ranma's
next punch.
It went straight through the machine and made a lot
of sparks.
Surprisingly, Ranma withdrew his hand quickly before
the shock hit him, but Miranda grabbed the sparking
cables on her descent, protected by her rubber gloves.
She yanked the cables out and held them before her
with mercilessness in her eyes, leaving Chika only
to scream.
"Time to fry, guy!" Miranda laughed, spinning the
sparking wires in a circle before her.
Ranma stepped back, then rushed suddenly with a
turnaround kick, forcing the girl to lose her grip on
the cables. Miranda flipped back for another full moon
kick, but this time Ranma was ready and dodged easily.
"There's no way you could've gotten this strong so
fast!" Ranma complained.
"Such is the nature of my art!" Miranda replied, her
evil grin widening in anticipation. "Sensei is truly a
genius of fighting!"
"I was afraid of that," he muttered, raising his
arms high to block an overhead kick.
Speed was on the side of Miranda as her first leg
was caught high in the block she flipped backward with
a full moon kick, then flipped back forward with a half
moon kick, sending Ranma quickly to the ground.
Full moon kick, Ranma mused as he got up, requires
a full backflip with a cutting leg turned in a full
vertical circle, leaving her off the ground and unable
to act for a few seconds. Problem is, it could only
be taken advantage of if Miranda was careless; she
only used it against aerial attacks, where the
advantage was lost to me.
Yet, a half moon kick is a short forward somersault
utilizing the same kind of cutting leg, but leaves an
even smaller window of opportunity because she's off
the ground for a shorter period of time. An ideal
overhead attack since it can't be blocked easily, but
she's dangerous throughout the entire attack. Can't do
anything about it without trading blows....
Circular saw kick is a horizontal circle slash,
leaving only the upper body exposed for the duration of
the spin, and is the only window of opportunity. Likely
she knows that as I do, so there's probably a defense.
And of course, she still stood with her weight on
her right foot....
"Hiyah!" Ranma cried, unleashing a flurry of punches
and kicks.
Miranda blocked the attacks easily, trying to get in
some good hits of her own in, but succeeding just as
well as her opponent. She spun in place in another
circular saw kick.
Standing on her right foot.
Ranma saw the window of opportunity, and ducked for a
low sweep attack. Miranda fell surprised, landing on
her side and her left leg extended outward.
When she failed to get up, he shook his head. "One
lousy sweep and you're out? That's sad."
He turned to walk away, but as soon as his back was
turned to his downed opponent Ranma felt Miranda's
legs clamp onto his neck again.
"Never turn your back on your enemy!" she chastised,
throwing Ranma over her.
Thrown a surprising distance, Ranma landed face-first
on stage. The audience cheered as Miranda reappeared
for them triumphant.
"Miranda! Miranda!" the crowd chanted.
And for the first time she realized they were
cheering for her.
Ranma forced himself back onto his feet. "I'm... I'm
not done yet!"
Miranda detected the latest attack, and made broad
sweeping gestures with her arms, likely for show of
the audience. "Prepare yourself," she hissed, "for the
secret technique: the moon slasher dance!"
Well, they were about to be disappointed, he
decided, charging. "Just like your OTHER 'secret
technique!'"
Her arm gestures ended with her right arm high and
left arm at waist level. Ranma attacked.
"Ougi," Miranda shouted, "TSUKIZAN RENBU!!"
"Wha...?!" Ranma yelped, caught in the secret
technique. The female martial artist slashed him with
an upward full moon kick, followed by another in
succession in mid-air, then a third, sending Ranma
flying upward.
Landing first on the ground, Miranda jumped straight
up to her target, spinning on a vertical axis with an
aerial circular saw kick, cutting through Ranma with
great speed.
The crimson-eyed warrior landed on her feet, while
the pig-tailed warrior landed on his back. The crowd
roared in delight.
"Miranda! Miranda! Miranda!"
Smiling, she bowed to the gathered people, truly
happy at last.
The surroundings changed from a pervert's apartment
to a quiet shrine in the middle of town. Appearing
stylistically out of place in the middle of an industry
capitol such as Tokyo, the fire shrine was still a
well-visited location.
Higure said nothing to the keepers of the shrine, but
they left him and Shizuka alone in private separate
quarters nonetheless. They undoubtedly recognized his
Orochi trappings, but made no move to bar his
movements.
Shizuka rubbed her thumb on the sheathed Viper
swords in her arms, feeling a sense of longing unfelt
before-- and the inferiority threatened to creep back.
"So you found out the truth?" Higure said.
"From the wrong source, no less," admitted the
priestess of Genbu.
"Well, then, would you like to tell me about it?"
asked the Orochi priest, genuinely curious.
Shizuka shrugged. "May as well. Earlier today I was
supposed to go to some stupid talent show as a favor
for a friend. Grand prize is a trip for two to China."
"I see."
"On the way there a girl, Nabiki Tendo, confronted
me and told me something about myself." She shook her
head. "I... I've completely wondered the answer to the
question myself, and Fate deals me a blow in the form
of her!"
"What would that be?"
Shizuka sighed. "I've always wanted to know why my
parents gave me up to the Shrine of the Four Gods."
"Ah."
"It's something that's been burning in my mind for
twelve years," she continued, "and Nabiki-- I don't
know how she figured it out-- told me that the reason
was that I was born infertile."
Higure said nothing.
"I don't even know how they knew that," admitted
Shizuka, "but there's got to be at least some kind of
record of it somewhere, if Nabiki found it. I now
understand why my mentors never revealed this to
me, or the location of my parents. They were right to
protect them from me." She offered an awkward laugh.
"To be abandoned by the love of mother and father
over something as culturally important as bearing
children," mused Higure, scratching his beard. "People
believe such things are dying out in this modern age,
but it still occurs nonetheless."
"Yeah," agreed the priestess. "I can't bear children
of my own, so to them I'm completely worthless. I can't
even be married off if I wanted to." She lowered her
head and raised her hand to hide her tears. "When I was
with the Saotome and Tendo families one night a part of
me was absolutely giddy with the prospect of getting
married... and now I think I understand why."
Wiping the tears, she leaned over to Higure and
whispered, "I just like kids."
"How ironic," the Orochi priest noted. "The one thing
you truly love most is denied to be of your own."
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Shizuka replied,
pulling out her shotgun. She leaned against the single
barrel as if it would comfort her. "I trained hard at
the Shrine of the Four Gods with the promise that I'd
know the truth, but now that I know the truth already
what should I do?"
"Hmm," mused Higure. "That is a dilemma."
"On the one hand," he explained, "you can continue
your discipline and training, in the hopes that one
day you can become the Chosen Speaker, the Genbu no
miko. Becoming miko is no small task, and requires
strict discipline and faith on your part, and may even
destroy you, if you are not ready."
"On the other hand, you could quit your training, and
try to seek out your own life. Not only do you free
yourself from your discipline, but your faith and
beliefs as well. You effectively abandon everything you
grew up to learn and appreciate."
"Now," he finished, "it is not my place to make the
decision for you, as I am but an advisor to your
plight. My role has been delegated to that of an
observer at this point in time, nothing more, nothing
less. The decision to move on is up to you."
"Master Higure," Shizuka said, "Thank you for your
consideration."
"I am not making the decision for you, nor forcing
you to choose," the priest insisted. "Do not make a
decision now, but take your time if necessary."
"Master, there is but one course I CAN choose," she
replied with resolve. Standing to her feet, Shizuka
lowered the shotgun to the ground and stood straight
and tall. "The only course is the one I'm already
walking."
"I see," he said, nodding. "Then, from a master to
an apprentice, I bid you well in your journey renewed.
I, too, walk the journey of rediscovery, so never feel
yourself alone in that respect. I cannot help you
directly, but I will be there if need be." Higure
stood up in turn.
"I understand."
He offered his hand, to which Shizuka shook firmly.
"Good luck to you, then. Until our paths cross again."
He turned to leave, but stopped.
Glancing over his shoulder, Higure added, "Oh, and
please refrain from mentioning my presence here to
Ranma Saotome, if you will."
"I'd hardly question you, but... why?" Shizuka asked
curiously.
"He and I have shared many conflicts between one
another," Higure explained. "When we last parted he
was recovering from the loss of his friend."
"Ukyo," she guessed. "It all fits."
"Yes," the priest confirmed. "At this point in the
game I would only interfere in his journey, but
someday our paths will cross again. When that time
comes, perhaps then I will be ready, and maybe he, too,
will be ready to move on."
Shion surveyed the damage created by the battle
between Ranma and Miranda backstage, his hands in his
trenchcoat pockets. The equipment Chika was readying
was ruined, and an opportunity lost.
Ranma Saotome, he mused. Well, then, perhaps there is
something I can do about this after all, before
retirement....
He produced a cellular phone from his left pocket,
and initiated an autodial sequence. Shion waited
patiently, listening to the dialtone until someone
picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Ayame, it's me, Chika's brother," he said.
There was a momentary pause. "Yeah?"
"I need to ask a favor of you."
"It's about Chika, then? That sucked royally."
"Of course. And a certain pig-tailed martial artist."
"Ah. In that case...."
"That's right. Time to pull in the stocks."
"I see. I'll meet you at the warehouse at you-know-
where. Be there at midnight."
"Thank you."
Shion cut the connection, then punched in a series
of numbers and waited. Accessing his secret line, he
punched in another series of numbers. He hardly had to
wait long before someone picked up the other end.
"Hello?" came a skittish voice.
"Ah, my friend," Shion said, satisfied the rerouted
voice of his was being scrambled properly in the
receiver. "It's time I call on that favor you owe me."
There was silence at the other end of the line. "W...
Warlock?!"
"You're going to meet two of my other clients down
at the dock warehouse A-722B at midnight tonight. I
assure you, however, that you WILL appreciate this
favor I ask in return."
Make a few concessions, cut a few deals, and presto!
Shion "Warlock" Kagami's machine of vengeance was on a
roll.
* * * * *
To: warlock@spielburg.org
From: blackwidow@northspire.net
Subject: Re: Current Job
Everything went precisely as planned at the talent
show except for a few problems. Big problems,
actually.
It turns out that the real Ranma Saotome never showed
up until after a girl came to challenge him, instead
attacking an impostor girl. They sure made a mess of
the place, on-stage and backstage. And yet, the crowd
and the judges unanimously agreed that the grand prize
should go to Burning Eyes.
Weird, huh? She wasn't even part of the show, but
everyone, including the president, thought it was all
an act. One thing's for sure, Ranma got a sore
thrashing; hope your client appreciates that much, as
that's about the only thing that went right.
- Black Widow
--------------------------------------------------
"Do You Remember Love?"
-- Lame Title of the Week
* * * * *
Days of hours of silent meditation and soul searching
finally paid off for Kodachi Kuno.
She sat in a meditative position in the Spartan
room of the Kuno estate reserved for Tatewaki's
phoenix egg, a priceless relic purchased from the same
store as the abridged manual.
The manual alone was useless, she realized, unless
she herself understood the inner workings of the
Phoenix Sword. It took a good week to finally reach
an understanding with the egg, silly as it sounds, but
finally Kodachi understood.
For a moment, she wondered how her stupid brother
managed to figure it out a long time ago without the
manual.
When she completed her meditation Kodachi flipped
through the manual, carefully searching for the
part she believed pertinent to the situation.
Ah, of course.
Written in the abridged section of the manual, she
finally understood the reason her brother fled the
country so quickly. It is understood that constant use
of the Phoenix Sword eventually kills the wielder by
slowly eating his soul until it was all consumed. The
Sword technique could build up a tolerance over time if
used sparingly, but there has not been a documented
case whereby the wielder survived more than four uses.
Tatewaki has already reached that point. In order to
save himself from disaster he willingly fled Japan to
avoid another battle with Ranma Saotome.
"At last," Kodachi said aloud, "Brother-dear, life
become so dear to you, yet perhaps too late. The death
of honored foe twist your soul so that you would
give up that which you cherish most."
Fighting.
------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes
This story was created after watching the talent
contest on Nadesico, and was a useful setup for what I
planned for Shizu earlier. Not to mention a useful way
to get Miranda back in the game, even if it is so
soon.
Hokuto's song is from Sakura Taisen (Sakura Wars),
and, not surprisingly, put out in 1996, which is about
when this story takes place. I am such a sneaky jerk,
but I definitely didn't want something from later for
consistency's sake.
Miranda's art is actually based off of King of
Fighters, particularly the characters Leona and Kim
Kaphwan.
Razorclaw X (spiceoflife@NOREPLYhotmail.com)
http://www.crosswinds.net/~slythe/ranma/ranff.html
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