All previous chapters of this story may be found at http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless
=========================
RELENTLESS
A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction
By Grayson Towler
=========================
-----------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
Fall Into Place
-----------------------------------------------------------
The first rays of dawn struck like weightless arrows against the
walls of the Tendou Dojo, beaming their golden radiance through
the crisp autumn air. Nabiki welcomed the sparse warmth that the
early morning sun afforded. She didn't have to be up at this early
hour - this was one of the days she hadn't scheduled herself to go
to the restaurant in the morning - but she seemed to have lost the
ability to sleep in. <Another side-effect of running a business, I
guess,> she thought. <Oh well.>
Nabiki hunched in her sweatshirt against the dawn's chill and angled
towards the open front door, hoping to catch a stronger dose of the
sunrise. Savory aromas drifted in from the kitchen where Kasumi was
preparing breakfast. Natsume was already working out in the yard,
unfazed by the cold in her tank top and loose pants. No doubt her
sister was still dead to the world - now that was a girl who knew
how to sleep.
It was a little strange to see Saotome Genma up so early. The
bulky, bespectacled man sat on the edge of the porch, scribbling
sporadically in a small notebook and occasionally muttering to
himself. Nabiki drew a little closer to try to catch what he was
saying.
"Golden morn... the golden orb... hmm."
Nabiki looked over curiously at Genma. "What are you doing?"
"Oh!" he seemed startled by her presence. "Ha, um... good morning,
Nabiki. I was just writing a little poetry."
Nabiki raised a cynical eyebrow. "Do tell."
"Poetry is it, Saotome?" Tendou Soun said from the hall as he
shuffled towards them. He was brushing his teeth as he walked -
Nabiki never had understood her father's peculiar fixation with
dental hygiene.
"Well, just a little bit, Tendou," Genma replied with a laugh.
"How long has it been since you wrote poetry, my old friend?"
Nabiki's father asked. "Why, I haven't heard any of your poems
since we were training."
"Yes, that was the last time," Genma said with a nod. "I used to
write a great deal, but old Happosai hated all my poetry. Do you
remember?"
"Mmm, yes." Tendou Soun took a seat beside his friend and cocked his
head, recalling old memories. "Yes, now I recall. You had a big
journal full of poems, and he was going to burn it. I seem to
remember we gave him a substitute book at the last minute, didn't
we?"
Genma shrugged. "It didn't matter, Tendou. He threatened to make
leather shoes out of my hide if he ever heard another one of my
poems. But now, since he's no longer our Master... well, I
decided..."
"Ah!" Soun exclaimed. "You're free to write again! That's
splendid. So, let's hear what you've written, then."
Genma scratched the back of his neck and looked self-conscious.
"Well, I'm a bit out of practice, you know. But here goes:
Oh how I love to watch the morn,
The golden sun that shines,
Up above to nicely warm
These frosty toes of mine.
The wind doth taste of bittersweet,
Like jasper wine, and sugar,
I bet it's blown through others' feet,
Like those of... eh?"
Strange gurgling noises issued from the front lawn, distracting
Saotome Genma from his reading. Nabiki looked up and was surprised
to see Natsume thrashing spasmodically on the ground. The young
martial artist, normally so controlled in her every motion, clutched
onto the trunk of a tree with both arms, one leg twitching and
flailing while the other stuck out like a wooden beam from her hip,
its every muscle cramped tighter than stone. Natsume squeezed her
eyes shut and stammered inarticulately: "B...bbb... bba... b..."
"Natsume?" Tendou Soun called worriedly.
"What on earth...?" Nabiki began, heading tentatively towards the
flailing young woman.
"Morning, everyone," came a voice from behind them. Kurumi shuffled
down the hall in her nightshirt, her hair still tangled chaotically
from sleep. "What's up?"
"I think something's wrong with your sister," Nabiki observed,
pointing to the lawn.
"Nats... NATSUME!" Kurumi shouted, jolting awake. She sprinted
past the three of them in a pink blur towards her sister. The small
fighter cradled Natsume in her arms, covering the elder girl's ears
with her hands. "Was somebody reading bad poetry?" she asked.
"Uh..." Genma adjusted his spectacles nervously and sweated. "Well,
er... I didn't think it was..."
"Yeah," Nabiki answered, jerking a thumb towards the recalcitrant
culprit. "He was. Is THAT what caused this?"
Natsume's fit seemed to be passing, fortunately. She relaxed her
grip on the tree trunk, letting her fingers slide out of the grooves
she'd dug into the bark as her body slowly came back under her
control. "B...bad..." she whispered, panting.
"Come on, get up," Kurumi told her gently, squirming under her
sister's arm and hauling her to her feet. "You're okay."
"What was that all about?" Nabiki asked.
Kurumi helped her limping sister over to the edge of the porch and
sat her down. "When we were just kids," she told them, "our mother
had a box of things that we thought belonged to our real father.
When she died, we went through everything there trying to find a
clue about who he was."
"I thought that was where we got the scroll of Anything-Goes
techniques," Natsume whispered, still trembling slightly. "But I
guess I'm remembering wrong, if Happosai was the one who gave it to
us."
"We were very young," Kurumi said with a sigh. "Anyway, one thing
that I'm certain that was in the box was a book of... well, poetry,
for lack of a better term. I was too young to read it, but Natsume
was determined to go through the whole thing to get to know our
father better."
"That couldn't have been our father's work," Natsume said darkly.
"The book must have been put there by some cruel spirit or
something."
Nabiki raised an eyebrow. Natsume wasn't the sort of girl who
normally resorted to supernatural explanations. "What do you
mean?"
"No human mind could conceive something so awful," the dark-haired
martial artist stated grimly.
Kurumi sighed. "The poetry was really bad," she explained. "I
never read it, so I don't know for sure..."
"I'd never expose you to something so horrible," Natsume said.
"But anyway, it had to be pretty terrible. Big sister was up all
day and all through the night, forcing herself to read every word.
When I came to check on her in the morning, I found her on the
floor, like that," she said, indicating the lawn where Natsume had
been so recently writhing. "Ever since then, she's been vulnerable
to bad poetry."
Genma coughed violently and mopped the sweat from his brow. Tendou
Soun looked rather thoughtful. "Well," he said. "Every great
martial artist has a secret weakness, I suppose."
Nabiki smirked. "So all it takes is a little bad verse, and you're
history," she observed. "Hmm...
Pointy birds, pointy, pointy,
Anoint my head, anointy-nointy..."
Natsume's legs kicked out from under her, one snapping straight
while the other flailed like a loose garden hose. She grabbed onto
the support beam and clenched her jaw tight.
"Nabiki!" Kurumi shouted accusingly.
Nabiki held up her hands in a gesture of innocence. "Just testing!
Sorry!"
"T...take my word for it," Natsume hissed through her gritted
teeth. "It works."
<Now that's leverage,> Nabiki thought as she watched her adopted
sister's spasms die down. There was nothing in particular that she
wanted out of Natsume at the moment, but it was so nice to have an
ace like that in your hand, just in case. "Doesn't work with bad
song lyrics, does it?" she asked.
"Nope. Not bad prose either," Kurumi explained. "Just poetry."
"Well, that's not so awful, then," Tendou Soun reassured Natsume.
"Still, you'd better hold off on reading your work out loud, eh
Saotome?"
Genma laughed nervously and fumbled with his journal. "Heh heh,
well, I guess you're right, Tendou," he stammered. "Well, I guess
I'd better be going!"
Nabiki watched the stocky martial artist scamper away, then regarded
Natsume and Kurumi thoughtfully. <Interesting,> she thought.
- - - - - -
Ranma-chan drifted out of the blackness of unconsciousness, returning
from the distinctive abyss of oblivion she'd learned to associate
with the Neko-ken technique. Low signals of pain - soreness from
her limbs, mostly - began to thread their way into her thoughts.
The pungent odor of fish-cakes lingered in the air.
Ranma-chan stretched out of the tight, fetal posture in which she'd
been sleeping and slowly rose to her feet, yawning for air. <I
musta done it,> she thought. <I'm still alive.>
She'd known the Neko-ken technique was a perfect strategy to use
against this monster. It allowed her to do everything you were
supposed to do when you fought the Reikoku - it gave her new
abilities the thing had never seen before, allowing her to fight
with a completely different style. What's more, the monster would
essentially waste a whole set of adaptations when it rose again,
coming up with a host of countermeasures to the Neko-ken which
wouldn't do it any good if Ranma-chan didn't attempt to invoke the
technique for the next battle.
In fact, Ranma-chan had hoped she'd be able to save this particular
card to play if and when she tangled with the Reikoku for the third
time, rather than the second. It would have been awfully nice to
get it to waste its adaptive powers going into its fourth and final
incarnation, if matters came to that.
<Still, couldn't afford to take any chances,> she thought. She
looked down at herself and noted some shallow but significant cuts
and scratches across her limbs. <Besides, maybe it's better this
way. If it could tag me even with the Neko-ken this time, it mighta
done a whole lot worse in its third stage.>
The Neko-ken was undeniably powerful, but it had some serious
drawbacks. The primary problem was that it made Ranma-chan as
mindless as the Reikoku itself. Using the technique meant she
completely abandoned control of a fight, which was a risky
proposition when the stakes were this high.
At least her training had worked, thought. That was something.
She'd known that the odds were pretty much nil that she'd have a
cat handy when she had to face the monster, so she'd needed to
devise a way to access the Neko-ken's power without direct feline
intervention. Her dream training had cost her a whole string of
nights full of self-induced horror, followed by mornings featuring
a lot of fish stench and cold baths, but it had worked. It had all
been worth it.
<I wonder how long I've been under?> she thought. The sky was
mostly dark, with the last traces of sunlight diminishing through
the evergreens. She couldn't have been out for more than an hour
or so. Now, the only question left was where the Reikoku's body
lay.
Ranma-chan closed her eyes and tipped her head back ever so
slightly, gently sniffing the air. Even when the Reikoku was
dormant, it put off a nasty aura. She felt it almost immediately -
back in the direction of the river. Her cat-self must've decided to
get a little distance from that ugly beast before settling down for
a nap. She understood completely.
It didn't take long to find the clearing where she'd fought the
Reikoku. Ranma-chan surveyed the carnage and whistled in surprise.
She always left a mess when she used the Neko-ken, but this was an
exceptional scene even by that standard. The grass by the river was
chewed up into wads of lumpy mulch, peppered with streamers of
sliced stone that were cut into improbably thin ribbons like strands
of excelsior paper. The surrounding trees had taken a beating as
well - Ranma-chan counted almost two dozen full-grown conifers that
were nothing more than stumps now, chopped into uneven masses of
kindling and sprayed across the clearing, like handfuls of immense
toothpicks hurled to earth by a petulant god.
In the midst of this devastation lay the Reikoku. It seemed like
little more than a limp heap of black rags, unless you counted the
corrosive aura of menace which radiated from its unearthly form.
"This round goes to me, ya ugly bastard," she spat. Her voice was
the only living sound for miles around.
Now, another challenge presented itself. They'd already seen the
way the Reikoku selected its targets - it homed in on whichever of
its designated victims was closest at hand. So, in order to protect
Ukyou and Ryouga, who'd be stuck in the Amazon village for
who-knew-how long, she had to make sure SHE was always closer to the
monster than they were. It promised to be a tricky game of
cat-and-mouse, and this time she definitely was not the cat.
Ranma-chan took a deep breath and steeled her will. She didn't have
much choice - she had to get this monster as far away from the
Amazon village as possible before it woke up. She regarded the
inert black mass dubiously. "I don't like it," she told it, "but
I guess I'll have to carry you for a while."
Ranma-chan recovered her pack from the edge of the clearing, then
approached the dormant beast cautiously. She wondered how much it
weighed. There was only one way to find out.
Her hands sunk into the folds of black cloth, seeking something
solid upon which to gain purchase. Touching the creature set her
nerves into a shrill, metallic cacophony of revulsion. The dark
fabric seemed to be sucking at her, hungering for her life and
vitality, flooding her bloodstream with oily hatred, until her
fingertips finally found its chitinous flesh...
Ranma-chan jerked back with a screech, tumbling away from the
creature's body in an awkward sprawl. Her reflexes took her
scrambling away from the beast for a few seconds until she finally
regained mastery of them and brought her body to a halt. She lay
there on the shredded turf, gasping for air as a clammy layer of
sweat lay cold across her flesh.
<Carryin' it is definitely out,> she thought ruefully. Prolonged
contact with the creature was unthinkable. <That's why Pantyhose
wrapped it up in canvas,> she realized. <I wonder if my tent would
be big enough?>
Somehow, the thought didn't appeal to her. The idea of sleeping
beneath a piece of cloth that had been poisoned by that monster's
hideous presence chilled her bones. Perhaps it was irrational, but
she didn't want to expose that thing's corrosive aura to anything
she planned to keep.
<Okay... maybe I can drag it,> she thought. <Make some sorta...
stretcher, or cart or somethin'.> She glanced about, regarding her
surroundings. She did have a fair amount of raw material handy,
especially in the form of chopped timber. Surely there had to be
a way...
Ranma-chan's gaze fell on the river, and she smacked her fist into
her palm. "A raft!" she exclaimed. "It's PERFECT!"
The water flowed away from the Amazon village. Ranma-chan hauled
out her map and double-checked, but it did look like the river
flowed for many kilometers along roughly the same course. She'd
just send the nasty creature downstream and get to a comfortable
distance before it woke up. She tucked her map back into her pack
and got to work.
The full canvas of starlight had revealed itself across the evening
sky by the time she'd finished. The raft wasn't pretty and it sure
as hell wouldn't be comfortable if a person tried to use it, but
that was irrelevant. It would float, and that was all she needed.
Ranma-chan picked out a long, straight branch, slightly too large
to be a walking stick but cut to size with the eerie precision of
the Neko-ken's phantom claws. "Okay, ugly," she said to the
motionless Reikoku as she planted the stick into the dusty folds
of its robes. "You're goin' on a nice long trip."
It was heavier than she'd anticipated, but she was able to roll it
across the ground and up onto the surface of the makeshift raft
without having to touch it again. She braced her foot and gave a
mighty shove, propelling the wooden raft across the mud-slicked
river bank and into the water.
"See ya later, you son of a bitch!" she called as the current took
hold of the awkward craft and drew it away from the shore. She
watched the diminishing form of the raft with satisfaction as it
rocked its way down the river... until the edge hung up on an
outcropping of rock and the misshapen vessel stopped, swaying like
a starched flag in the wind.
Ranma-chan sighed and trotted down the river bank, her long pole in
hand. <Looks like I'm gonna have to babysit that raft for a while
so it don't stop somewhere,> she thought. <Man, don't it just
figure?>
Ranma-chan glanced back upstream as she jabbed at the raft with
her stick to dislodge it. <I'm countin' on you, Ucchan,> she
thought. <Look after Ryouga and get him back on his feet. He
can't afford to stay still as long as this monster's on the loose.
None of us can.>
- - - - - -
Ukyou awoke bathed in cold sweat, clawing her way out of an endless
swirling labyrinth of nightmares. The sound of her wheezing breath
filled the still air of the straw hut. She cast about herself with
wide eyes, clutching the coarse blanket to her damp chest. Nothing
registered as familiar. She didn't have any idea where she was,
couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. Maybe she was still
dreaming.
After a moment, she discarded that idea. This was much too peaceful
to be one of her dreams.
Minutes passed - Ukyou stayed frozen in place. The tempo of her
breathing grudgingly decreased and the sound of her hammering pulse
slowly faded in her ears. Thin tendrils of sunlight shone between
the wooden slats of the windows in the hut, creeping across the
rushes on the floor, the tangle of covers on her cot, her bare
shoulders, her matted hair. The whisper of churning water from
the river outside drifted to her ears as the din of her gasping
subsided. She could hear the barest hint of voices through the
walls now, girls laughing and speaking words she didn't understand.
A goat bleated in protest at some outrage visited upon it, and the
laughter rose for a moment in a gentle wave.
Several realizations came to her as the slivers of sunlight finally
banished the last black tentacles of nightmare from her mind. She
was in the Amazon village. Ranma was gone. Ryouga was hurt. Tarou
was dead.
And she was terribly thirsty.
The last problem, at least, was something she could deal with.
Ukyou disentangled herself from the blanket and inspected the room
for her clothes. She didn't find them, but there was a simple
cotton shift on the stool in the corner that she assumed was meant
for her. She put it on, and then the bamboo sandals she discovered
underneath it.
<Time to show your face,> she thought. <Let's hope they're not ALL
like Shampoo.>
Ukyou pushed open the door to her little hut and shielded her eyes
against the late morning sun.
She didn't receive much in the way of greeting. The hut they'd put
her in was clearly on the edge of the village, away from the main
centers of activity, but plenty of people were in view. They were
mostly women - dressed in simple, functional clothes, going about
their daily chores as they'd been doing in this valley for thousands
of years. But for all its rural trappings, Ukyou could tell at a
glance that this place was very different from the tiny mountain
hamlets and villages she and her friends had passed through in their
journeys through the Chinese Himalayas. The Amazons were taller and
stronger than their countrymen, all with healthy complexions and
full sets of teeth in their mouths. Their clothes were simple, but
the colors were vibrant and the seams were all immaculately
stitched.
And the hair! These people had the cleanest, most luxurious hair
Ukyou had ever seen. Beautiful hair was some sort of tribal
fixation amongst the Chinese Amazons, it seemed. She supposed
that she shouldn't have been surprised - Shampoo's hair was a
wonder, much as she hated to admit it. Most girls in Furinkan
were almost as jealous of Mousse's hair... heck, even COLOGNE had
luxurious, white tresses. It was about the only beautiful feature
the old hag had left. Ukyou fingered the grime-drenched jungle
that her own hair had become and grimaced self-consciously. At
least she ought to be able to find a decent place to clean up around
here.
That is, if anyone would speak to her. She'd been favored with a
few brief, indifferent glances from the Amazons as she'd emerged,
but for the most part they ignored her utterly.
Socialization could wait. Ukyou homed in on the sound of gurgling
water and made her way towards the river. The water was clearer
than chandelier crystals, so cold that it felt like it was slicing
open her throat on the way down, but she though she'd never tasted
anything so sweet. Ukyou took a deep breath and dunked her whole
head in the beautiful, sparkling river, letting the shocking cold
blast through her brain, and then tossed her head back with a
profound gasp. A spray of water arced from her drenched hair.
"Careful, girl!" came a woman's voice. "You'll fall in!"
Ukyou pulled herself erect and pivoted to face the speaker. A
parade of icy tendrils of water trickled its way down her body,
raising goose-bumps across her skin. "Uh... hi," she said.
The woman was middle-aged and short, wearing a fine white robe and
white ribbons to tame a mane of hair showing its first hints of
grey. Ukyou knew she should remember this woman, but her mind
refused to cough up that particular information.
"My name is Ban Daidu," the woman said, seeming to sense her
discomfort. "I'm the healer you met last night, when you and your
friend came to our valley."
"Healer... RYOUGA!" she exclaimed with sudden urgency. "Is
Ryouga... is..."
"That's your friend's name, then?" Ban Daidu said soothingly.
"She's taken quite a beating, my dear. She's lucky to be alive.
But don't worry. We Amazons are very skilled in the healing arts,
and I'm the best healer you'll find in a hundred kilometers. I
believe your friend will pull through."
Ukyou's vision blurred as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
"Thank you... thank you for helping us."
The healer gripped Ukyou's shoulder reassuringly. "Do not fear,
young one. It is not our way to turn aside any woman in need,
foreign or otherwise."
Ukyou felt a chill go down her spine which had nothing to do with
the water from the river. <Any woman, she said,> the young warrior
thought. <But how would they feel if they knew Ryouga is really a
man?>
"Are you all right?" the healer asked.
"F... fine. I'm just... really glad she's okay." <Be very
careful,> she told herself. <Remember who you're dealing with
here. These are Shampoo's people. This one may seem nice, but
you KNOW their laws are insane. Who knows what they'll do if they
find out Ryouga's a guy? You just let them keep believing he's a
girl until he gets better, and then get the hell out of this
place.>
"I'm sorry," the young okonomiyaki chef said. "I'm just worried,
that's all. You'll let me know as soon as she gets up, won't you?"
"Of course," Ban Daidu assured her.
"She might be... disoriented, you see," Ukyou explained. "Who
knows WHAT she'll think unless I'm there to help her get her
bearings. What with her head injury and all." She winced
inwardly, hoping that didn't sound too suspicious. She couldn't
afford for Ryouga to say too much when he awoke, not if they wanted
to keep his secret intact.
"That does raise the question," the Amazon said, "of how your
friend sustained her injuries. If you don't mind me asking."
"Oh," Ukyou said nervously. <Another thing you'd better keep
secret,> she thought. <If old Cologne knew about the Reikoku,
chances are that someone else around here will too. If they find
out that monster's coming for us, they ain't gonna want us hanging
around their village, that's for sure.> It was a legitimate
concern, though... WAS she endangering all these people by being
here? If the Reikoku came here after her, and some of the young
Amazon hotheads tried to fight it...
<No,> she decided. <If it was after us, it'd be here already.
Ranchan must've beaten it, and now he's leading it away from us.
I can't expect these people to have faith in Ranma, but I do. This
was his plan... I won't fail him.> Her chest tightened at the
thought of Ranma, a tight lump forming in her throat. <Please be
okay...>
"Young lady?" the elder woman asked with concern. "Are you all
right? What happened to you?"
"Oh!" Ukyou took a deep breath. "It was a... uh... an avalanche,"
she said. "Ryouga pushed me aside, but she got hit by some really
big rocks. I was just so scared." She smiled weakly.
"I understand," the healer said, nodding. "That would explain her
injuries."
<Not if you knew anything about Ryouga,> Ukyou thought. His
everyday life was practically an avalanche - it'd take more than
that to hurt him so badly. But there was no need to explain that.
"Well, my dear," the woman said, "you never did tell me your name."
"Oh... Kuonji Ukyou," she said, hoping that Shampoo had never
mentioned their rivalry during her visits home. Of course, they
probably would have figured out already if she had - even someone
who'd never met Ukyou would be able to guess she was the "Spatula
Girl." Which reminded her...
"Uh... excuse me, but where are all my things?" she asked. "They
weren't in my hut."
"Oh, they're at my place, with your friend. Your clothes are being
mended and cleaned. And as for your weapons, it might be best if
you didn't carry them around while you're here. We are a warrior
folk, you see, and some of the younger women can get rather
belligerent if they feel challenged."
"No, I wouldn't challenge anyone..." Ukyou began.
"Nevertheless," Ban Daidu interrupted, "I think it would be safer
if you did not go about our village armed. Some of the girls might
decide to put you to the test, you see. You're not familiar with
our laws. Believe me, it's better if you don't get into any fights
while you're here."
Ukyou forced a smile. "That's fine," she said. It wasn't fine, not
by a long shot, but she couldn't afford to push it. She'd just have
to lay low and not draw attention to herself until Ryouga was ready
to go. Then, they'd leave this weird little burg in the dust.
Ranma needed them. It was hard to be patient, but she could do
it.
"Believe me," she said, "the last thing I want is to cause any
trouble."
- - - - - -
Nabiki cradled her clipboard in one hand and held her pen poised
above the paper. "So," she addressed her audience. "What do you
think?"
The cluster of students crowded around the table she'd chosen in
the center of the cafeteria, nibbling on the small segments of
okonomiyaki arranged neatly before them on a series of plates.
Nabiki addressed them in turn, prompting them for their comments
and recording the results on her notepad.
"Well, this one isn't as sweet as I thought it should be..."
"Are these raspberries? Do you think maybe you could use more of
them?"
"I didn't even want to try the peanut-butter and banana one, but
it's really good!"
"The chocolate sauce needs to be much thicker..."
"Are these really free?"
Nabiki smiled at that last question - she'd heard it quite a few
times already. "Yes, Mari," she assured the tennis captain.
"They're free. You guys are my test group. I need your opinions
more than your money, at least right now."
Natsume, who was quietly eating her own lunch at Nabiki's side,
gave her a curious look. "They keep asking you that," she
observed. The martial artist double-checked to make sure the sign
declaring that free samples were available was still in place. "Do
you find that strange?"
"Nah," the Tendou girl replied. "They're just being careful."
In fact, Nabiki was pleasantly surprised by the relative warmth of
the reaction she'd received. There was a time when she would have
scoffed at the idea of using free food to make friends, but at this
point Nabiki would take whatever she could get. For a while, she'd
been the unchallenged title-holder for the least popular girl in
Furinkan, after that spate of coercion and blackmail while she was
trying to keep her delivery operation alive. She'd discovered an
interesting thing about being the center of contempt: it got old
pretty fast. This was a good chance to win her way back into the
good graces of the Furinkan student body - all of whom, she knew,
were potential customers.
Besides, she really did need to do the research. She and Konatsu
had agreed to take another stab at expanding the Ucchan's menu, but
this time she had no intention of blundering into another financial
disaster. This time, she would do her homework.
The idea that she and the ninja chef had come up with was to make
dessert okonomiyaki. The batter would be sweetened with sugar, the
toppings would be mostly fruit, the sauces would be chocolate or
caramel or tasty fruit jam. But there were a lot of variables to
sort out, and Nabiki was definitely not going to invest a lot of
money in a new product if nobody would buy it.
She was pleased with the reactions she'd seen, though. Her
classmates were giving her a lot of useful feedback on this round
of experimental dessert okonomiyaki. Of course, there was no way
to be absolutely sure that people would really be willing to spend
money on something unfamiliar, but that was the nature of business
risk. At least this time she wouldn't put the restaurant in danger
of bankruptcy with her new venture.
Nabiki glanced at her watch. "Hey," she said to Natsume, "isn't
your sister coming to lunch today?"
The tall girl shrugged. "Mmm. Probably talking with friends or
something. She'll be here soon."
"Just don't let her eat all my samples, okay?"
Natsume raised an eyebrow. "She'd be perfectly happy to share her
opinions with you."
"No offense," Nabiki said, "but I need people with more
discriminating tastes than your sister. You could serve that
girl a deep-fried skunk butt and she'd come back for seconds."
"True enough, I suppose," the stately young fighter acknowledged.
"Ah, I think I see her coming now..."
Natsume's voice trailed off to a whisper, her eyes widening with
shock. Nabiki realized that the babble of the cafeteria was dying
to silence. All heads turned to follow the progress of the small
girl dressed in pink and red as she crossed the tile.
Nabiki stifled a gasp.
Kurumi didn't appear to notice the attention she was earning from
her classmates. The normally cheerful martial artist was lost in
her own gloomy thoughts, shuffling across the cafeteria with her
lunch bag held listlessly in one hand and her red hair ribbon
dangling from the other. She slumped into the seat next to her
sister with a heavy sigh. "Hi, guys," she muttered as she began
to dig half-heartedly through her lunch bag.
"Kurumi..." Natsume managed to choke out. "What... happened to
your hair?"
The small girl ran her hand self-consciously across her scalp and
sighed. Her springy mop of hair was all but gone - all that
remained was a shallow coating of stubble. At this distance,
Nabiki could now discern that there were shapes shaved into the
girl's remaining hair, the rough outlines of pineapples situated
above each temple.
Kurumi shrugged glumly. "It's a new rule in the dress code," she
said. "I guess everybody's going to look like this, so it won't
be SO bad." For the first time, she gazed around the cafeteria at
the sea of faces staring at her. "What?" she asked nervously.
"Didn't you guys hear about this?"
Natsume turned to Nabiki, speechless, her eyes begging for an
explanation.
One of the boys in the crowd sniggered softly, earning swift elbows
to the gut and the back of the neck from his surrounding classmates.
Everyone else had the grace to look shocked and sympathetic.
Nabiki cleared her throat. "Uh... that must've been our
headmaster. I... didn't know he'd gotten back today. I would
have warned you."
Kurumi looked confused. "What's wrong? Is there some reason
nobody else has an Official Furinkan Pride Haircut?"
Nabiki put a hand on her adopted sister's shoulder. "We should
have told you. In most schools, you do have to listen to what the
headmaster tells you to do. But not here. Principal Kuno is
something of a mental case."
"He's obsessed with shaving heads," another girl provided.
"He's always thinking of new ways to torture the students," a
sophomore boy added.
"Nobody around here listens to him anymore," Nabiki continued.
"If he really gets out of hand, somebody always just beats on him
until he goes away." She looked around the cafeteria helplessly.
"I guess we should have realized he'd go after you..."
A chill filled the room.
This was not a metaphorical, psychological chill, but a genuine
precipitous drop of temperature, centered around Tendou Natsume.
Nabiki had seen a fair number of hot battle auras in her time, most
spectacularly from Ryouga and Akane, but Natsume's wrath manifested
like a deadly winter wind. The water in nearby glasses actually
froze, and the students in the cafeteria shivered.
"Nabiki-san," the tall girl said in a voice like a sheet of hail.
"Uh... yes?"
"Take care of my sister for me, please," she said quietly, giving
the perplexed Kurumi an affectionate squeeze of the hand. "There's
something I need to do."
The crowd of students parted eagerly to clear the way between
Natsume and the door. Tiny crystals of ice swirled around the
long-haired martial artist as she cut a deliberate path across the
tile and out of the cafeteria. The students of Furinkan, never
ones to pass up a chance to witness a first-class butt-kicking,
swirled in pursuit of Natsume like snowflakes carried in the grips
of an arctic gale.
Nabiki patted the newly-shaved young girl on the back as she watched
the last of the crowd disappear. "Come on," she said. "Let's go
see if we can find you a nice hat."
- - - - - -
Kunou Tatewaki wandered the grounds of Furinkan high, the drying
grass of late autumn crunching softly beneath the tread of his
sandaled feet. The skeletal fingers of naked tree limbs cast a
web of crisscrossed shadows across his melancholy countenance.
Here he stood, the lord of all he surveyed with sword in hand, and
yet the approaching winter had robbed the land of its vitality and
spirit, leaving him the ruler of a hollow, empty kingdom.
He drew breath and gave forth a weary sigh. The students of
Furinkan accorded him a wide berth as he passed. He acknowledged
this gesture of deference to a superior, but to his sorrow he could
not tell them the answer to the questions they sought - how they
might lift the heavy, dark burden from the heart of their beloved
champion. He pitied them in their helplessness.
Yet whom amongst them could hope to beam the sunlight of joy back
into his noble soul? It had been many a moon now since last he laid
eyes upon his beloved pig-tailed goddess, that jubilant wellspring
of innocent feminine energy whose love buoyed him through the
mundane storms of high school life. It was her capricious nature
to wander astray from time to time, but now it seemed as if she had
utterly vanished, like the petals of summer flowers carried away in
the chilling winds of early autumn. Were it not for his modest
collection of photographs, Kunou feared he might well have forgotten
the contours of her lovely face altogether.
And now, Tendou Akane, the cherished blossom of his heart, was gone
as well. How empty the halls of this vaunted campus seemed without
her radiant presence! How small and petty the world had become
without the endless, bursting illumination of her fearsome strength
and spirit! Yet gone she was, and it might well be a long, cold
string of days and months before she would return. Such was the
loneliness of Kunou Tatewaki. He was like the barren earth, black
and covered with frost, for up above in the firmament his sun and
moon had ceased to shine.
Even the thrill of battle had lost its savor. Maintaining his
position as undefeated champion of Junior Kendo took no more than
a tiny fraction of his prodigious skills. Foes fell to his blade
like stalks of grain before the reaper. What challenge could mere
children provide for one fit to vanquish giants? Yet all the worthy
foes had gone, leaving him with a string of empty victories, the
wine of triumph tainted by the bitter wormwood of apathy. He was
surprised to admit this to himself, but he actually missed the
presence of Saotome Ranma, against whom he might test his skill.
True, the sneering junior-classman was the worst sort of deviant
and moral reprobate, but he HAD been an adversary of merit on the
battlefield.
Now, though, it seemed as if Saotome might never return, if the
chatterings of the student body could be believed. No doubt the
young scoundrel had finally realized the peril he faced in
challenging the mighty Kunou Tatewaki, the Sky-Cleaving Titan
of Furinkan High, and had fled in mortal terror. And now, where
were the epic battles for righteous vengeance which had once carried
him like a gale of golden fury from one day to the next? Was he
truly a crusader without a cause, a Romeo without any Juliets, the
last true samurai in a windswept wasteland of plastic and concrete?
"SUCH TRAGEDY!" he bellowed to the heavens. Several nearby students
turned and fled, their grief for the plight of their heartbroken
hero no doubt overwhelming them.
He withdrew momentarily from the depths of his contemplations to
realize that his ambulations had carried him to a scene of some
manner of unrest. Before him was the outdoor pool of Furinkan
High (which held a special place in his heart, for it was the site
at which the pig-tailed girl first threw herself into his loving
embrace). Yet clustered on the edges, milling about like a gaggle
of perplexed geese, were the members of the Boys Varsity Swimming
Team. Since the welfare of all students of this noble institution
was always his rightful concern, Kunou strode forth to witness what
manner of difficulty these young Speedo-clad gentlemen faced.
"How now, good athletes," he addressed them. "Why look ye so
vexed?"
Some of the hearty lads quivered, as was common behavior amongst
many students so awed by the magnitude of his presence, but the
captain of the team stepped up to offer response. "Uh... well,
look at the pool, sir," he said.
Kunou cast his gaze upon the waters, and was met with a vision of
stunning improbability. Though the autumn skies of Nerima sported
a bracing wind, the chill was nowhere near strong enough to freeze
water - and yet, the waters of the pool had frozen into a smooth,
thick sheen of glistening ice! So bewildered was Kunou by this
enigma that he at first did not notice the single blemish upon the
pristine, icy surface, until he heard a wavery voice drifting
through the chilly air.
"T...tt...Tacchi! B... bb... be a go...gg... good keiki and g...
g... get your fad...fadda outta here!"
There could be no mistaking it - his father's head protruded from
square in the center of the frigid, blue-white blanket. From the
shoulders down, the headmaster of Furinkan High School was embedded
in the ice.
"We have a practice scheduled," the swim captain said. "But we
can't..."
Kunou swept his mighty bokken in a powerful gesture of authority,
silencing the prattle of the aquatic athlete. "Speak now! What
manner of person did inflict such a fate upon mine own father?
Answer swiftly!"
The captain gulped nervously. "It was that new girl! Tendou
Natsume! You know the one with the long hair and the really big...
uh..."
"Rugbeater," another swimmer provided.
"Tendou Natsume," Kunou whispered. "I see." The noble samurai
closed his eyes to contemplate this matter. The swimmers shifted
about nervously, and his father's teeth chattered.
"There is only one course of action suitable in this most extreme
of circumstances," he intoned gravely.
"Wh... whadda good son!" the principal enthused from his icy
prison. "He... go...g...gonna get m... me out..ta here and d...
den tt... ttt... ttteach d... dat delinquent wahine a gg...good
lesson!"
Kunou opened his eyes and raised his sword to punctuate his
impending proclamation. "Go forth!" he commanded. "And summon
here the esteemed members of the Furinkan High Ice Hockey Club!"
"Sir?"
"T...Tacchi!"
He gazed upon the swim captain. "Ruined though thy practice may
be, should not this unexpected windfall of ice be put to proper
use? Go forth, I say, and do as I bid!"
The swimmers grinned hugely, and the captain even saluted. "Yes
SIR!"
Some time later, Kunou sat in meditation upon the high dive
platform, listening to the scrape of metal skates against ice
and the occasional melodious clunk of a speeding puck bouncing
off his father's skull, and pondered the surprising events of the
day. A tiny smile of anticipation played across his heroic
features. It had been too long since he'd felt this good.
- - - - - -
The Amazon girl stared at her emotionlessly as Ukyou accepted
the chopsticks and the bowl of rice. "Thanks," the young chef
hazarded with a smile.
The teenager showed all the expression of a stone slab. If she
hadn't been visibly breathing, Ukyou could've sworn she was no more
than a remarkable wax replica of a Chinese martial artist. The
Amazon watched her for a few moments more, just long enough to make
her fidget, then turned and trotted briskly away, ponytails swishing
behind her.
<Hospitable place,> Ukyou thought sourly. It was likely that the
kid didn't speak Japanese, but it probably made no difference. The
reactions she'd endured in the past two days from the Amazon
villagers had been varied, but on the whole the attitudes of the
women conveyed a single message, loud and clear: she was not wanted
here. The men, it seemed, weren't allowed anywhere near her; she
hadn't seen an Amazon male come within twenty meters. It figured
that a tribe with such extreme laws about outsiders would cultivate
a rather phobic nature towards anybody not native to this little
valley. Perhaps they were kinder to other Chinese.
<I don't care,> she thought. <Ban Daidu has been nice enough, and
if she takes care of Ryouga, that's all that matters.> She set her
empty bowl down and made ready to rise. She wanted to check up on
the lost boy, just in case...
"Miss Kuonji," came the familiar voice of the Amazon healer from
behind her. Ukyou turned to face Ban Daidu.
"Oh good," she began. "I was just going to come ask you..."
The young chef's voice trailed off as she saw the stern look of
intense displeasure on Ban Daidu's face. The healer had not come
alone - a half dozen Amazon women and girls trailed her, all wearing
masks of controlled anger and contempt. Ukyou swallowed hard.
"Um... how is Ryouga?" she asked weakly.
"Your friend is just fine," Ban Daidu said tersely. "In fact, your
friend is recovering quite admirably. It really is amazing, just
how quickly your friend's health is improving."
The news was good, but the healer's voice was laced with flat anger.
Ukyou didn't understand. "I... that's great," she said. "Then you
think we can..."
"In fact," the elder woman interrupted sharply, "I've only seen a
very few people recover with the same kind of miraculous alacrity
which your friend is displaying."
Several other members of the village were coming to see what was
going on. One of the girls whispered to the crowd in Chinese,
translating for the benefit of those who couldn't understand what
was being said. Ukyou spared a wary glance towards the growing
assembly of observers, then returned her attention to the healer.
"Look," she tried again. "I don't know what you're..."
Ban Daidu cut her off with a curt wave of the hand. "I think you
need to explain something to us, Kuonji Ukyou. I think you need to
tell us how your friend came to learn the bakusai ten-ketsu!"
Mutters rippled through the audience, and the faces of the Amazons
grew darker. Ukyou simply gaped.
"What?" she stammered. "Now look... the old woman taught Ryouga
that technique! Cologne!" she clarified quickly. "She's one of
you, right?"
More surprise and angry whispering followed Ukyou's statement. Ban
Daidu narrowed her eyes. "I doubt that very much, girl," she
snapped.
"But it's TRUE!" Ukyou cried.
"Then tell me this," the healer shot back, her voice rising. "Why
would our own matriarch teach one of our most secret and powerful
techniques to one who is not only an outsider... but a MAN!?"
<Uh oh,> Ukyou thought. Enraged voices rose from the gathered
Amazons as they digested this revelation. The okonomiyaki chef
stepped back nervously, her heartbeat accelerating.
"Oh yes," Ban Daidu continued, pressing closer. "It's fairly
routine to bathe a patient, to sanitize their wounds and cleanse
their bodies. Imagine my surprise when I set a spongeful of warm
water on your friend's skin. You've been to Jusenkyou, girl.
HAVEN'T you?" She all but shouted the last question.
"Y... yes," Ukyou croaked.
"You LIED to us, outsider!" Ban Daidu snapped. "What else have
you been lying about?"
Ukyou's fear was strong now, but her own anger could not be kept in
check. "Look, damn it," she shot back, "all I wanted was some help
for Ryouga. I didn't think you'd care if he was a boy or a girl.
You're a doctor, right?"
"Stupid girl," the healer hissed. "Men have their own healers in
our village. You have no idea what you've done."
"Are the men doctors as good as you?" Ukyou countered. "Didn't you
say you were the best healer for a hundred kilometers? Could the
others have saved his life?"
Ban Daidu pursed her lips angrily, but she didn't answer the
question. Instead, she flung one of her own at Ukyou. "No
avalanche could have inflicted such damage to one who has mastered
the bakusai ten-ketsu, girl. How did that man REALLY get hurt?"
Ukyou fished for a suitable answer for a few seconds, then gave up.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she finally said. "You
don't even believe Cologne taught him your precious technique."
"The very idea that she would..."
"FINE!" Ukyou spat. "So WHAT? Are you going to kill us? Throw us
in jail? Feed us to the goats? Or do you just want to stand here
foaming at the mouth all day? Let's get to the bottom line here,
sweetheart!"
Ban Daidu took a measured step back and composed her expression.
"No, we aren't going to do any of that," she informed Ukyou
clinically. "The men shall see to your friend's recovery, but
I suspect he shall be conscious by tomorrow, perhaps even tonight.
When he wakes, I want you both gone. I don't want to see your
lying face in this village ever again."
"Suits me fine," Ukyou said bitterly. "The sooner I'm out of here,
the better."
"I couldn't agree more," the healer grumbled as she turned to
leave.
- - - - - -
Saotome Ranma had been a martial artist since before he could even
properly walk, but even he could never quite predict when and how
inspiration would strike. A person could train day and night,
struggling to perfect a new technique or master a new discipline,
never quite getting the hang of it until some perfect moment when
everything would suddenly, wonderfully, fall into place. Such
instances of revelation were exquisite beyond description, and Ranma
could remember each and every one of them.
This time, it happened in a small country restaurant. His modest
but satisfying meal was finished, he was just setting down his
chopsticks and picking up his tea to polish it off, when something
just clicked in his mind. He knew how to make it work.
Unable to restrain himself, Ranma focused his concentration. In
his right hand, the tea in his cup crackled and froze solid. In his
left, the chopsticks he'd been holding erupted in a bright flash of
flame.
<Got it!> His mind surged with elation. He'd been training up to
this moment for a long time, incrementally improving his ability to
control ki, switching his battle aura from hot to cold in an
instant. Now, though, he'd crossed the threshold - he could produce
a hot aura AND a cold one at the same time.
"Sir?" a nearby waiter said, his Japanese colored by a thick
accent.
"Oh. Hey man, I think these are defective," he told the waiter,
showing him the charred remains of his chopsticks. "Good grub
though. Gotta run!"
Ranma didn't wait for a reaction - he simply set down his money
and made for the door. Now that he had the hang of his aura
control, there were a great many things he wanted to try. If he
was right, the applications of this talent could be truly
remarkable. And he certainly didn't want to test out his new
ideas in the confines of a restaurant. <I'd destroy a lot more
than a pair of chopsticks,> he thought giddily.
It was a pity that nobody was here to share his achievements. He'd
only spent a couple of days away from Ryouga and Ukyou, but he
missed them already. He also wouldn't have minded if his pop had
been around to see his new techniques. But really, the one he most
wanted to show off to was Akane...
<She always likes it when I do something cool in martial arts,> he
thought. <She don't admit it, but I can tell. There's a lot I
can't figure out about her, but at least I know that much.>
There was no point wishing Akane was here, though. She was, at
least, exactly where he wanted her to be - back in Japan, safe at
home, away from the Reikoku and all of the horror it caused. Until
the monster was defeated, he couldn't see her, and it was a
distraction from his training to even daydream that it might
be otherwise.
Ranma took to his heels and pelted out of town, back towards the
wilderness. It was time to test his skills.
- - - - - -
Akane pressed herself against the wall to stay out of the path of
the surging crowd at the airport, the receiver of the pay phone
cradled against her ear. She almost had to shout to make herself
heard above the background noise of the throng. "I said the flight
was fine, Nabiki!" she yelled.
Her sister's voice was wavery and indistinct across the poor
connection. "Get your map out, okay?"
"Why?"
"Because I need to tell you how to find Ranma," Nabiki called
back. "I just heard from him yesterday!"
"Excuse, me, Miss?"
Akane turned towards the voice. "I'm a little busy now," she
said.
"Airport security, Miss," a man in a blue uniform said in passable
Japanese. "I'm afraid I need to ask you some questions."
Akane shifted to get a better look at the tall stranger. "What?"
The man glanced over her luggage. "In which of these bags are you
keeping your panties, Miss?" he asked.
Akane pulled the receiver away from her ear and glared angrily.
"I BEG your pardon!"
"We've had a rash of panty thievery," the man explained. "If you
could just turn your panties over to me, for safe-keeping..."
Upon scrutiny, it was apparent that the "airport security" insignia
pinned to the man's shirt was, in fact, a plastic child's police
badge. He was also wearing tennis shoes which Akane suspected was
not the norm for Chinese government officials. "Get lost, creep,"
she snarled.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate your... GLAACK!"
Akane reached out, grabbed a handful of the man's shirt, and simply
lifted. She didn't even give him a moment to properly dangle in the
air before she slammed him back down to the ground. He stayed on
his feet, but the shock of the impact traveled the length of his
body like an electric wave. He staggered away, his feet throbbing
in pain, barely managing to avoid getting run down by the mobs of
hurrying travelers. Akane shook her head in disgust and returned to
her conversation.
"What the hell was that?" Nabiki asked.
"That was the THIRD panty thief I've met since I got here, and I
haven't even made it out of the airport!" Akane fumed. "That old
goat is like a virus or something. He's infected the entire
country!"
"Never mind that," Nabiki said. "Look, the way you get to Ranma
is..."
"Tell me later," Akane said. "I'm going to the Amazon village
first."
"Still? Akane... you KNOW he's on his own now! Do you really have
time for that?"
"I trust Ranma," Akane insisted. "He'll survive until I get to
him. I'm not going to do him any good by being there unless I've
got a good plan to save him."
"Since when did you ever need a plan?" Nabiki teased.
"Ha, ha. You are paying for this call, you know. Do you really
have time to sit there and insult me?"
Nabiki snickered. "Okay, good point. But don't take too long at
the Amazon village. And call me as soon as you can! There aren't
many phones around there, you know."
"I know. I'll call soon."
"Bye."
Akane hung up and leaned against the wall for a moment longer.
It was good to hear her sister's voice, even over a bad connection.
She was trying her best to be confident, but it was hard. She was
alone in a foreign land now, with no guide to show her the way,
trying to find a way to outsmart a power which had existed for
thousands of years so she could save the one she...
Ranma. To save Ranma.
<I have no room for error, now,> she thought. <I can't afford to
make any dumb mistakes, because there's nobody here to bail me out.
Natsume, Kurumi, Dr. Tofu, my father, my sisters... they've all
given me everything they could to help me on my way. Now, it's up
to me.>
Akane drew a deep breath and turned to face her destiny.
"Panties for the poor?" an old beggar whined, waving a bag in her
face. "Donate some panties for the poor, starving orphans of
China?"
Akane ground her teeth and shoved past the charlatan. <Old Happosai
had better pray he doesn't cross my path,> she grumbled to herself.
- - - - - -
It became clear as the day wore on that it was not going to be so
easy to get away from the Amazon village unscathed. Where she had
been regarded with suspicion and indifference before, Ukyou was now
met with glares of open hostility. The women of the valley looked
up from their work as she passed, raking her over with eyes loaded
full of contempt. Ukyou kept her gaze pointed straight at the
ground in front of her as she walked.
<Just don't look at them,> she instructed herself. <Don't start
anything.>
The hours dragged by, and Ukyou spent the time trying to stay out
of the way. Even that proved increasingly difficult - each time
she thought she'd found some place to simply tuck herself away and
stay out of sight of the villagers, a group of Amazon girls
inevitably found some reason to be in that very place as well.
Each time Ukyou picked herself up and moved on once she saw them
coming... each time with greater reluctance.
She knew they were trying to pick a fight. Part of her - a part
that grew ever more insistent as the day crawled on - wanted nothing
more than to oblige them. Maybe it was suicidal to get into a
scrape in the middle of the Amazon village, but that part of her
didn't care. Better than scurrying away like a frightened mouse
every time an Amazon girl came too close.
<Just find another place to hole up,> she told herself sternly as
she walked down the dirt path leading to the western edge of the
village. <Play it cool and you can get the hell out of here by
tomorrow. Think of Ryouga.>
So she pressed on, eyes on the brown grit of the road. When she
saw a cluster of dark-eyed teenagers gathering on the footbridge
across the stream in her path, she turned and went the other way.
When a trio of girls pulled their cart into the road and waited with
crossed arms, she detoured through the underbrush and thistles to
avoid them. When a big, muscular girl with a face like a bowl of
squashed cranberries shoulder-checked her on the street so hard that
she almost ended up sprawled flat in a mud puddle, she simply bowed
deeply and went on her way.
But when the splash of ice-cold water sloshed over her like a
blanket of needles, that was all she could stand.
"WHAT the HELL..." she spluttered, whirling in the direction from
which the watery outrage had originated. She had a moment to
register a short, smirking teenager with an empty bucket in her
hand before a heavy splash of scalding hot water slammed into her
back. Ukyou screamed in shock, arching her back and clenching her
fists against the blistering agony.
The girl with the bucket hopped off the railing upon which she'd
been perched and sauntered into the road in front of Ukyou. She was
joined a moment later by another girl of similar height, holding an
empty kettle. Both wore tunics adorned with large pink hearts on
the front and insufferable expressions of smugness.
"Why you little..." Ukyou seethed. A crowd was gathering, simmering
with mocking giggles. Water dripped from Ukyou's drenched clothes
and hair.
To her surprise, the little girls spoke Japanese. "Oh, so sorry,"
one said in an innocent voice. "We just make sure you not turn into
mans, too. Right, Lung Lung?"
"Right, Ling Ling," the other agreed.
<BACK AWAY!> a voice inside howled plaintively. <Just let it go!>
But she couldn't. Not after everything else. Her face was numb
from the cold, her back was boiling with scalding pain. It was too
much to forgive. She raised her trembling fists and took up a
fighting stance. "I'm gonna mop the floor with you twerps," she
snarled.
The one called Ling Ling pretended to be shocked, but the triumphant
gleam in her eyes was plain to see. "Lying Girl pick fight with us?"
"What's it look like, stupid?" she growled, advancing on her foes.
"Amazon womans never back down from fight," Lung Lung asserted with
a savage grin. The women in the crowd called out their
encouragement. Each of the two small warriors extended a beckoning
hand, and another young woman in the audience responded by throwing
them each a weapon. Ling Ling caught her staff and twirled it above
her head, while Lung Lung leveled the points of her trident towards
Ukyou.
The Japanese fighter became acutely aware that she was unarmed...
and facing a two-on-one battle. "This is what you Amazons call a
fair fight?" she asked, taking a step back. The crowd jeered and
closed a circle around her, cutting off escape routes.
"We two is sister twins," Ling Ling said as she danced to Ukyou's
left.
"Two of body, one of mind," Lung Lung cartwheeled nimbly towards
Ukyou's right flank.
"So you admit you each have half a brain?" Ukyou taunted. Her
nerves were stretched taut, but she refused to let the girls
intimidate her. After all, she'd been training hard to fight
without her weapon, improving all her martial arts skills under
two of the best. She couldn't let this pair of cherubic ruffians
get the edge on her just because they were armed. She had to have
faith in Ranma, in Ryouga, on all the hard days and nights of
training on the road.
Still, it would have been awfully nice to feel the reassuring heft
of tempered steel in her hands right now.
<Don't think about that!> she admonished herself. <They're trying
to set it up so they attack in unison from both sides, so you can't
defend. Do something about it!>
Ukyou stopped retreating and lunged abruptly towards the girl with
the staff. Ling Ling spun her weapon in a defensive shield to ward
off Ukyou's blows, hoping to set the okonomiyaki chef up for an
attack from behind by her sister. But to her distinct surprise -
and to Ukyou's - the Japanese girl was fast enough to slip a punch
in through the propeller-spin defense without so much as brushing
the weapon. It wasn't an accurate enough blow to hit a vital point,
but Ling Ling still staggered back as Ukyou's fist connected with
her abdomen.
Lung Lung leaped forward, trident poised to strike her foe's back,
but Ukyou sensed her coming without having to look. She scooted
backwards, ducking under the arc of the small girl's leap, so Lung
Lung would land with her back exposed to Ukyou's own attack. Her
foe tried to twist in mid-air to defend herself against the assault
from behind, but she was too slow. Ukyou's foot lashed out and
caught her just above the rump, sending her tumbling at her sister's
feet.
The crowd grew considerably quieter.
Ukyou's confidence surged. She was faster than these two
pipsqueaks - a LOT faster. Maybe this wouldn't be such a hard
fight after all...
<Yeah, and what happens if you do beat 'em?> she found herself
wondering. <You're an outsider, remember? You know the laws.>
"Great," she muttered to herself. Maybe she could still back out
of this. These girls had to know she was no pushover - maybe they'd
lose their stomach for this charade now.
"Okay, girls," she said. "You had your fun, and now I figure we're
even. Just back off and leave me alone, okay?"
"A fight with Amazon womans..." Ling Ling began.
"...is fight to finish!" her sister concluded.
"I figured as much," Ukyou grumbled.
"Outsider Lying Girl may be fast..." the small warrior with the
staff acceded.
"...but she not see true power of Amazon techniques!" the other
continued. She then leaped upon her sister's shoulders. "Amazon
Sister Twins Special Attack..."
"... Punish Stupid Lying Girl Attack!" Ling Ling finished. With
that, they began to spin.
Ukyou backed away from the flailing whirlwind of amazon fury as the
weapons of the two girls lashed out in a series of dizzying arcs
towards her. She wasn't keen on trying to block them bare-handed,
and she didn't know if she'd be fast enough to slip in an attack
through that mess without paying for it.
<So think of another tactic,> she told herself. <Think like
Ranchan. Use your surroundings. There's got to be some weakness
you can... ah-HA!>
The young chef retreated from the twirling duo with a backflip,
luring them into an aggressive charge. She tried to look afraid
to keep their attention focused on her, but she was pretty sure that
they couldn't see very well when they were whizzing around like
that, and that they wouldn't notice...
The spinning sisters crossed the spot where they'd hit Ukyou with
their water ambush, where the dirt of the road had been transformed
into thick, greasy mud. With a surprised screech, Ling Ling lost
her footing, and their spiral came unwound. Both young fighters
tumbled to the ground, splattering mud in every direction.
To Ukyou's surprise, some of the girls in the crowd began to laugh.
Maybe Amazon solidarity wasn't all it was cracked up to be... or
perhaps there were some other girls out there who had been
victimized by these two pint-sized thugs, and had good reason to
revel in their humiliation. Ukyou crossed her arms and smirked
as the two spluttered in the muck. "Had enough?" she asked
casually.
"Had enough playing around!" Ling Ling exclaimed.
"Time to finish with Ultimate Technique!" Lung Lung spat.
<Uh oh,> Ukyou thought.
The pair rose from the mud and executed a series of acrobatic
tumbles to get some distance, until they finally came to a halt
in front of a thick swatch of bushes. They struck mirrored poses,
each standing on one leg like a crane, and glared at Ukyou with
feverish malice. The crowd backed away rapidly, eager to distance
themselves from whatever was going to happen next.
"Now witness final technique learned from 3000 years of Amazon
fighting history!" Ling Ling cried.
"Behold power handed down from gods themselves to punish the
insolent!" Lung Lung trumpeted.
And then, in unison: "Dance of the Great Fire Dragon!"
With that, each threw down a small smoke bomb, kicking up a cloud
that obscured them from vision. With a thunderous roar, a great
reptilian head arose from the stew of black vapor, fire trickling
upwards from its gaping maw. Ukyou gaped in astonishment. It
was... it was...
It was probably the most pitiful fake dragon dummy she'd ever
seen.
Ling Ling and Lung Lung pranced out of the smoke, holding their
metal contraption up above their heads on a pair of poles. It was
all Ukyou could do to keep from busting up with laughter... until
she heard the music.
Some sort of tinny little melody issued forth from the body of the
mechanical beastie, sufficiently innocuous and silly to be perfectly
appropriate for the overall absurdity of the "great dragon." But
once the bubbly, empty-headed tune burrowed its way into Ukyou's
ears, she found her body began to move on its own accord. She was
dancing, and she was powerless to stop.
Ukyou barely kept enough command of her own actions to dodge the
fire blast which spurted from the dragon's hinged jaws. The thing
may have been an aesthetic wash-out, but it packed a pretty
serviceable flame-thrower. Ukyou took to her heels as fast as
the dance would allow, with Ling Ling and Lung Lung in hot
pursuit.
<This... is... RIDICULOUS!> she thought venomously. <I REFUSE
to lose to a cheap trick like this, damn it all!>
But whatever magic or force powered that cheery little tune was no
joke. Ukyou found she could cover her ears for a short while, but
that wasn't enough to wholly block out the music. She couldn't
keep it up for long enough to mount a kicking attack that would get
past the flames spewing from the contraption's jaws. The harder
she fought against the impulse to dance, the more energy she burned
in her struggle. Eventually, she was going to run out of steam, and
then she'd be toast... literally.
Through the clanking din of the music rattling in her head, she
heard Ranma's voice come to her. <The yin and the yang, Ucchan.
It ain't just a cool-lookin' symbol, y'know? It's the hard and the
soft of martial arts. Sometimes the hard ain't the best way to go -
sometimes it don't work at all. That's when you gotta go WITH the
flow of your enemy's attack, instead of tryin' to go against it.
You see? Go with the flow...>
It was worth a shot.
Instead of resisting the dance, Ukyou allowed herself to be drawn
into the act of motion, the rhythm and the pulse of the sound in
time with the movements of her body. Perhaps she couldn't stop
dancing, but that didn't mean she couldn't exert some control over
the way she danced. In fact, a dance wasn't too far off from being
a martial arts kata, when movement and form became one, when the
body learned the reflexive postures and motions that would come
naturally when battle was joined.
She found herself drawn back to the training she'd done all those
evenings with Ranma and Ryouga. Ukyou plunged willingly into those
memories, those hours of sweat and exertion and focus. That had
been a dance too, with Ranma setting the rhythm as he tossed the
pinecones in the air and Ryouga beating out a counterpoint with
every spatula he threw her way. It had been a hard dance, much
harder than this, its tempo increasing mercilessly each night as
they stepped up the pace of the exercise, but she had kept up, no
matter how fast they went. Yes, she had, adding her own line of
melody to the song with each weapon she sent whistling towards its
target. Even when they'd blindfolded her, she'd kept pace with the
dance, learning that all she had to do was feel for the target, to
aim for the sound...
<Aim for the sound!>
The young warrior swept her arm in an arc too blindingly fast for
the eyes of the assembled Amazons to follow. A burst of bright
light, a shriek of green power, and the spatula-shaped ki-blast
struck the mechanical dragon square in the body, shearing through
its metal hull and out the other side. The music abruptly became
a gargled squeak, then ground to a halt altogether.
Ling Ling and Lung Lung craned their necks to look at the damage
inflicted on their dragon, stupefied looks on their round faces.
Ukyou had no intention of giving them time to start their
fire-spitting toy again - she knew she had to take it out quickly.
She leaped towards her enemy, heart thundering in her chest,
prepared to rain down a storm of blows upon the green mechanical
abomination.
A battle cry surged in her throat as she descended. At some level,
where her rational mind still held sway, she knew she'd better not
shout the name of the technique, as Ranma did - the Amazons had
enough reason to hate her without knowing that she, too, had
mastered one of their secret techniques. So instead, she simply
blurted out the first alternate which popped into her head as her
fists began to fly in a screeching blur:
"HUNKA-HUNKA BUNCHA-PUNCHES!"
<Boy, THAT needs some work,> the rational fragment of her
consciousness observed with chagrin, but it was a dim and quiet
voice against the storm in her mind. She didn't really care what
she'd said, not now, with the sweet fires of battle turning her
every nerve into a filament of white-hot glory. Her fists streaked
towards the hull of the mechanical dragon, buckling and twisting
the thin armor with each strike. The thing let out a twisted
screech, jets of smoke writhing forth from the multitude of cracks
where its shell had been breached.
Ling Ling and Lung Lung yelped in terror and scuttled away. Ukyou
took the hint, reversing her momentum the moment her feet touched
the ground and vaulting back away from the wounded dragon with the
grace of a tigress.
Moments later, the ugly metal thing exploded in a tremendous
fireball.
Ukyou shielded herself against the chaotic mess of debris from the
detonation of the tin-plated monster. She was rather surprised to
see amongst the shrapnel a charred and smoking stereo tape player
tumbling across the turf, a thin slit roughly the width of a
throwing spatula burned through the center of it. She let out
a bark of derisive laughter.
Ling Ling and Lung Lung struggled to their feet, faces and clothes
smudged with mud and black ash. They raised their weapons and faced
their foe.
Ukyou pulled slowly out of the defensive crouch she'd assumed to
protect herself from the explosion, standing straight and proud.
She turned her gaze towards the two Chinese girls, her battle aura
hitting them like a cannon blast. The Amazons flinched back,
uncertainty in their eyes, and made weak threatening gestures with
their weapons.
Kuonji Ukyou had never felt so strong in her life, so sharp and so
very alive. All her training, her hard work and sweat and
frustration and pain, all of it snapped together in a perfect
fit now, creating an immaculate whole that shone like a star in
this place, this moment. She was cloaked in an armor of confidence
and bright, controlled rage. Every muscle was taught as a piano
wire, every sense as keen as a splinter of glass. She was flying
at a totally new altitude, soaring in a zone of awareness she'd
never imagined existed.
<My God,> she thought with wonder. <Is this what they feel? Ranma
and Ryouga? Is this what it's like for them when they go into
battle? It must be... it must be...>
But not every time she fought, she realized. This was a state of
battle fury reserved only for the most serious of struggles. She'd
tasted it before, when she'd fought the Reikoku in the forest, but
now she commanded it rather than being caught in its grasp. Still,
this amazing state of mind was strictly overkill for this
situation. For a pair of mediocre fighters like these two shrimpy
bullies, she wouldn't need it. She could defeat them with ease.
They knew it, too. Victory was an attitude, a frame of mind. Ling
Ling and Lung Lung looked upon their adversary and knew they were
defeated. The beating that would follow was nothing more than a
formality.
Nothing is ever so easy, though, where Amazons are concerned.
"Lying Girl may think she won..." Ling Ling said.
"...but she be sorry for this later!" her sister promised.
Ukyou gnashed her teeth in frustration. "Oh yeah, that's right.
Your stupid Kiss of Death."
The two girls were a bit taken aback that Ukyou knew about their
tradition. Murmurs rose from the assembled crowd.
"Oh sure, I know all about it," Ukyou informed them, letting her
gaze wander towards the women in the audience. "And believe me, I'm
glad I'm not a man, that's for sure!"
Ling Ling knit her eyebrows in anger. "We hunt Lying Girl to ends
of earth for revenge!"
Lung Lung nodded. "Amazon womans never fail to kill obstacles like
Lying..."
Ukyou whirled back to her foes, her voice cracking like a rawhide
whip. "So maybe I should just kill you two right NOW!"
Ling Ling and Lung Lung flinched back, eyes widening in fear.
"But then I'm sure it'd fall to one of your sisters to avenge you,"
Ukyou snarled, jabbing her finger towards the crowd. "Am I right?
You Amazons just won't play the game unless you can stack the deck!"
The okonomiyaki warrior regarded the sea of grim faces around her
with growing exasperation and rage. "You think I'm scared of YOU?
You think you're going to hunt ME to the ends of the earth? Well I
have a news flash for you... you're gonna have to take a goddamned
number! I'm already being hunted by the REIKOKU, you hear me?"
Watching the impact of her words upon the crowd was rather like
watching the ripples spread from a handful of pebbles cast into a
still pond. Only a few of the older women in the audience knew the
creature she had named, but the extremity of their reactions had an
immediate impact on the girls around them. Shock, disbelief, and
horror seeped through the assembled onlookers in slow waves.
"That's right," Ukyou addressed them, nodding. "That's right. Now
you understand. Now you see why I'm not afraid of a couple snotty
little brats like you," she said as she turned her attention back to
Ling Ling and Lung Lung. "So come on, you twerps. Let's finish
this." She tightened her fists. "I promise you, you'll be giving
your kisses with bloody lips!"
A new voice, familiar and unexpected, cut through the babble of the
crowd like a sword thrust. "ENOUGH! ENOUGH, I SAY!"
The throng parted and all faces turned. Ukyou gasped in surprise
along with the rest. The old woman balanced on the staff was
smaller in stature than anyone present, but the aura of authority
she projected was absolute. Cologne, matriarch of the Amazons, had
come home.
"This fight must not finish," she commanded, hopping forward until
she was positioned between Ukyou and her adversaries. "Enough
foolishness has been wrought today without making matters even
worse. This match is a draw, do you understand?"
Ukyou raised her hands, palms outward. "Fine by me, ma'am."
The Amazon girls looked offended. "But Elder! She... she..."
The venerable warrior flicked a glance towards the smoldering
remains of the mechanical dragon. "Ling Ling, Lung Lung, don't
tell me you've been using that ridiculous trick again?"
The two girls looked sheepish. Ukyou spoke up. "Some ancient
technique! So did the gods give you that boom-box, or what?"
"The original technique employed a spring-wound music box, my girl,"
Cologne explained. "These two simply adapted it. A radio does
play for much longer. Rather enterprising of them, wouldn't you
say?"
Ukyou fidgeted. "Uh..."
"Nevertheless, it makes a poor substitute for real martial arts
skill," the matriarch observed dryly. "And an expensive one, isn't
it? How long did you girls have to work to replace the last dragon
you destroyed?"
The two soot-caked Amazons flushed with embarrassment. "But we
was..."
"Never mind, never mind. Off you go now, children," she instructed,
a kind undertone in her voice. "All of you, go on. I must speak
with this girl for a while."
"Elder!" one of the Amazons in the crowd cried. "She said she
was..."
"Yes, yes, the Reikoku," Cologne said reassuringly. "I know all
about it. Let me get her story and I'll speak to you all in time.
Now leave us be."
Ukyou watched with profound relief as the crowd dispersed. "I'm
glad to see you, ma'am," she said sincerely. "Is... Shampoo here?"
"Right over there, dear."
"What, behind the bald girl?"
"She is the bald girl."
Ukyou's jaw dropped. Some of the other Amazons had also noticed
that their wayward sister had returned sans hair - their reactions
were even more extreme than Ukyou's. Shampoo stood beside a large
number of packs and traveling bags, stoically ignoring everyone with
her head bowed. "What... what happened to her?" Ukyou asked.
"Never mind that for now." Cologne's tone was strong and
authoritative, drawing Ukyou's attention away from Shampoo. "Best
if you tell me what you're doing here. Where's the gr... Ranma.
Is he hear?"
Ukyou was immediately curious as to why the old woman had caught
herself like that, but she figured that now was not the time to
press the issue. "No, he isn't. He's... he's leading the Reikoku
away. Ryouga got hurt, so we had to... had to..."
Cologne nodded as Ukyou trailed off. "So that's how it is. I see.
How badly is the boy hurt?"
"I... I think he'll be okay, or that's what Ban Daidu said. But she
was awfully mad when she found out he was a guy."
Cologne raised her eyebrows. "As opposed to a pig?"
"No... a girl," Ukyou revealed nervously. "We went to Jusenkyou,
see, but things went wrong and Ryouga got splashed, so now he..."
"Hmm," the old woman sighed. "So you went looking for a cure.
Jusenkyou is notoriously miserly with its cures, my dear. Now it's
clear to me why everyone's so riled up."
"I didn't know you had two kinds of healers," Ukyou explained
defensively.
"Well, it is an old law," the matriarch told her. "There are
taboos about certain kinds of intimate contact between women and
men who are unmarried, taboos which a healer has no choice but to
violate in the course of her duty. Several hundred years ago, it
became increasingly popular with the young men to feign injury, or
even deliberately sustain a small hurt, so the pretty healer of
that day might need to give them a bit of attention. She was a bit
of a pushover, I hear. Thus, the law was passed."
"I see."
"Ah, well. Like so many of the old laws, the girls today don't
understand it very well. It is a hard thing to realize that by
obeying the letter of a law you often betray its intent." Her gaze
strayed momentarily towards Shampoo. "A very hard lesson,
sometimes, but an important one."
Ukyou's eyes widened. "Do you mean...?"
"Never mind that," Cologne interrupted. "I shall deal with Ban
Daidu. She's letting things get blown out of proportion. Though
you would have done well to be honest from the start, girl. Best
you remember that."
"Yes ma'am," Ukyou said meekly. "But... but they're also mad
because he knows the bakusai ten-ketsu. And now they know about
the Reikoku..."
Cologne nodded. "Yes, yes. I see lots of things will have to be
cleared up. But you must tell me now, girl. What happened in
Jusenkyou? I see in your eyes that it was something horrible."
"It was... Pantyhose Tarou," Ukyou answered reluctantly, a chill
passing through her as she said the name. "He was the one who hurt
Ryouga."
The venerable warrior drew a sharp breath. "That renegade? Why
was HE involved?"
"He fought the Reikoku too," Ukyou told her. "So he was being
chased, just like the rest of us. Except he had his own plan to
deal with it. He went and made a Spring of the Drowned Reikoku,
and he poured the water onto himself, and..."
For the first time, the Amazon matriarch looked genuinely shaken.
"He WHAT?" she gasped.
"But... but it killed him," Ukyou whispered, her throat
constricting. "I think it drove him mad when he changed, and then
the Reikoku woke up and hit him with hot water, and he fought it
but... but..." A tear trickled down her cheek as the memories of
Tarou's screams came back to her, echoing in her ears.
Cologne squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head slowly. "That
fool. That selfish fool. My girl, remember this always: there
is no creature in the world more dangerous than a man of
ambition."
"He's dead," Ukyou muttered, wiping her eyes.
"Yes," Cologne agreed, "but that spring he created is a blight which
will haunt all generations to come. Such folly. Such mad, black
folly."
"I'm sorry," Ukyou sniffled.
The old woman seemed to shed some of her gloom. "I doubt there was
much you could have done. Still, it is interesting that young
Ryouga would be inflicted with a new curse. I wonder why?"
Ukyou shrugged, forcing herself to try to forget the haunting sights
and sounds of her visit to Jusenkyou. "It was an accident."
"In my experience, there are no true accidents, especially in
Jusenkyou. Well, in any case, I had best go check on your friend
and see to his recovery. Ban Daidu is competent enough, but I
prefer to look for myself."
"But your laws," Ukyou protested. "I thought only men could..."
Cologne waved her concerns aside. "Bah. I'm too old to worry
about some silly taboos. Besides, a woman my age shouldn't pass
up any chance to cop a feel."
Ukyou recoiled, color draining from her face.
"Wa ha ha ha!" the old woman cackled. "Only fooling, my dear."
The okonomiyaki chef laughed weakly. "Yeah... heh heh. Of course.
For a second there you sounded like Happosai."
"Mm. Happy. Yes." The matriarch looked thoughtful. "There is much
to discuss, girl. There will be a council tonight marking my
return. You shall want to attend." With that, the ancient warrior
pivoted on her staff and hopped away.
- - - - - -
end of part eleven...
-----------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES
-----------------------------------------------------------
Whee! Longest chapter yet. This one was a challenge to do,
coming down off the dramatic high from Chapter 10 into a more
transitional period. One of my friends suggested to me that I
try writing on paper as opposed to on the computer, as a strategy
to circumvent writer's block. It actually worked quite well.
But does the style seem different now? Hmm.
Anyway, time to give my thanks to those of you who've given
me consistent C&C and encouragement for this story. My thanks
to Alan Harnum, Jed Bidwell, Mike Loader, RpM, and Bob Macfie
for your consistent commentary and words of encouragement. My
thanks to "Mahoueyes," who is as relentless as the Reikoku in
her desire to see the next chapter. And many thanks to Gary
Kleppe, who never fails to offer excellent insights into the
story. There are a lot of other folks out there who have been
generous in their commentary ... if I missed you, it doesn't mean
I haven't appreciated you.
Also, my thanks to those of you who pointed out that Pink and
Link are not actually Amazons. I had some problems deciding if
I wanted to use them as opposed to Ling/Lung for the foes against
whom Ukyou would test herself this chapter, but it seems I've
made the right call. Besides, Pink and Link are legitimately
dangerous foes, while Ling/Lung are pretty much joke characters.
Ukyou's better off this way.
Points to those of you who can provide the last line of Genma's
poem. I know a lot of you recognize Nabiki's bit of verse.
I don't know of dessert okonomiyaki or some variant actually
exists in Japan - it was a dish my wife and I decided to try out
a couple of times, though. Not bad, really. The peanut-butter
and banana one is my favorite.
I'm going to try to give descriptions of the more obscure Ranma 1/2
characters who appear in this story. So...
LING LING and LUNG LUNG: These two pipsqueaks made their first
appearance in one of the second season Ranma anime shows, coming
from the Amazon village to check up on Shampoo's progress in the
whole killing-Ranma project (and getting into a fight with Ranma,
of course). I understand that they have made return appearances
in the anime, though I haven't seen any of those programs. I'm
assuming that they are still governed by the same basic character
traits - they're annoying, somewhat belligerent, and their fighting
techniques are basically stupid.
COMING SOON: Ranma has some new techniques to test out... but why
do the effects of the Neko-ken seem to be lingering? Ukyou and
Ryouga face the judgement of the Amazon council, Akane works her
way through the Chinese countryside, and Konatsu comes face to face
with one of the more terrifying presences in all of Nerima! All
this and more in Chapter 12...
COPYRIGHT STUFF: All the Ranma characters belong to Takahashi
Rumiko,and are licensed in America by Viz Communications.
GRT - January 2000
grayson@rigroup.net
All existing chapters of this story may be found at:
http://www.rigroup.com/~grayson/relentless