Fair Warning - The interlude is of a more serious vein than most of the
story so far; more in the tone of the prologue.
This was well-considered. My comments may be spoilers, for those
who care about such things.
Comments, as always, are appriciated.
Not much to say this time, but not because I didn't feel anything about
it, just that I couldn't think how to express it. I'm better at
flippancy.
Pastpresent, Interlude One - Verlorenseele
{ Good title. }
Stretching, I peeled myself off the fake wood top of my
big impressive desk, replaced the carved cherrywood plaque
with my name on it - Genma had made it for me as a
housewarming gift - and slowly made my way towards the
door. I realized I had nothing on above the waist before I
opened it,
{I wonder if she embossed herself with her name in reverse by sleeping
with her front on the plaque? :) }
I have very definite views. I like Sinatra, and I worship
Dean-sama, and whoever invented the combustion engine has
the internal combustion engine {?}
my heartfelt admiration.
I dropped the guy... he bled on my porch, I noticed, which
meant I was going to have to repaint it for sure... and turned to
{Suggest emdashes rather than ellipses.}
face the last punk. He had a bloody knife and a real scared look
on his face, which was the first sign of intelligence he'd
shown since he'd brightened my life with his existence.
{ Or darkened her doorstep... :) }
He yelped and ducked, which was what I had expected
he'd do. It's hard to reliably hurt someone with a thrown knife;
{suggest} expected him to do.
half the time the hilt or the flat bit just bounces off of them.
On the other hand, no sane person likes having razor sharp
razor-sharp
objects thrown in their face. So he dove, and I swung, and his
head made a nice meaty cracking noise as the rail hit it.
He dropped the knife, which was good, and made a
gurgling noise. Hard head. I thought about saying something
cool and cold, then decided that it would hurt too much, and
kicked him in the stomach instead. A mistake. All sorts of
interesting stuff went from his mouth to my porch.
{ "interesting"? Yuck. I hope she's being sarcastic...}
"You shouldn't get drunk."
"My head's been telling me that every since I got up."
ever since
"That's a problem, then." It was, for him. It's hard enough
trying not to piss off the wrong people yourself without
making sure your family doesn't either.
{ Odd thing for her to say, since she's an orphan... hmm.}
"Yeah." His eyes brightened. "You really kicked their ass
asses {?}
good."
distance between himself and the customer, and I don't like
carrying anything on me that's obviously a weapon. If the cops
decide to see what it has in its pocketses,
{heh. Tolkien on the shelves? :) }
and they find a
wrench or a tire iron on a mechanic, there's not a whole lot
they can say. If they find a knife or a pocketful of shuriken, on
the other hand...
"In our area? I wish." I took a notepad out of my jacket
and consulted a row of numbers labeled 'Tires.' "We saw an
initial jump in sales following the big drug laws the diet
the Diet
passed at the beginning of the year, followed by a decline in
some areas and growth in others." The notepad went back in
my jacket. "I don't know how the others are doing. I hear
Wasoda has been having problems with a neighborhood
program."
"Nah, there was only two representatives," Docco said.
I thought about this, thought about the three bikes,
decided that I didn't like it, and pushed into the hall at a run.
{Yeah, it's even more impossible for two guys to ride three motorcycles
than it is for one guy to ski through a revolving door. :) Very
cunning.}
He looks young, have you noticed? Well, youthful, like he
ain't able to grow a real beard yet. There's a reason, though I
didn't know it at the time.
{ Aha. }
I glared at the two heavies. "Yeah. I wanna ask their
friend something."
{ Oh, subtle. :) }
He pulled off my jacket and overshirt, examined the
area, and sighed. "I'm afraid you've been grazed, Kiri-kun. Hito,
gauze, now please."
{suggest} gauze. Now, please."
"Inasmuch as being shot is good, yes. It looks like it took
{suggest} "Insofar as
some skin off. I'm afraid you have a hole in your jacket."
He dropped the manga, pulling back and looking at me
with a vaguely offended expression. "Hey Kiri. I like your
"Hey, Kiri.
place."
He did touch things, but only because I let him. I
instructed him to, actually, since it's nice to have someone
pass you tools when you're slung under a cycle with oil in your
face and a heap of parts on your chest.
{Yup. I love that scene in AMG OAV3 where Keiichi is working on the bike
and Belldandy holds the musubi for him. :) Been there, give or take a
goddess...}
For one thing, the war was gearing up. Inji was not
happy. He had decided that the soon-to-be-late Mr. Hayasho
was going to be dealt with, and that he was going to do the
dealing personally. This was partly because he was very angry
- that is, outwardly irritated - and partly because he was the
{Your formatter bit you: the dash should be at the end of the previous
line.}
best suited to do the deed.
You people just don't know how damn surprised I am that
Nodoka's lived this long.
{heh. She's one of the specially lucky ones, a quality Ranma appears to
have inherited from her rather than from Genma.}
Ryoji dropped by every day, and I let him have the vast
and solemn privilege of handing me tools. Well, yeah, and I let
him do some of the simpler jobs, with supervision. It's a fact
that mechanics are created solely because older mechanics
want to show off.
{Yup again. Been there, done that, both sides, several fields.}
He was holding an ugly statue of something with a lot of
tentacles and eyes when I came in, but set it down to talk to
me. "Good morning, Kiri-kun. Bright eyed and bushy-tailed?"
Bright-eyed
{"Or bushy-eyed and bright-tailed?" :) }
"Huh." An awful stupid communist. Hito can be fairly
awfully {?}
intimidating when he wants to be.
"Are you going to hurt my sister?" Ryoji asked, and his
voice trembled. It hadn't done that after those punks had
beaten him up.
{Would you believe that this took me completely by surprise? I mean, no
idea at all. I actually and physically slapped myself in the forehead
for not seeing it coming, because this sets up as ugly a
rock-and-hard-place situation as I have imagined for some time, and that
makes it inevitable.}
So I had to say yes, because that was my job, that was
what I did, and that was what I had chosen to do.
"No," I said. "I'm not."
{oh boy.}
If anyone, anyone had used that tone of sheer contempt
with me I'd have broken their nose.
me, I'd
I looked into the red mirror of the bottle, and a drug
dealer and thug and almost killer looked back.
Yeah, it was me. I was comfortable with it.
But now I didn't want to be.
{Nicely sketched.}
He handed me a glass of water, which I gulped. "I wasn't
really expecting you to. Very well. You may run your garage, if
you like. I won't steer you anyone, but I won't have you
blacklisted either. As far as I'm concerned, you and your
business don't exist."
I nodded. That was far more than I'd expected.
{Me too. Inji is... interesting. What an inadequate word.}
"I felt very bad, once I heard. Her younger brother will be
going to a very nice home in Hokkaido that takes poor children
and grooms them for college. He now has a scholarship. I had
this back pay for you, and it seemed a shame to waste it."
{Very interesting indeed.}
Genma was hanging around when I got home, and he knew
something was wrong. He didn't ask me what. I'm forever
thankful to him for that. I'll also never forgive him for that.
{Damned if you do, and damned if you don't...}
I dealt in stolen machines, hot cars, gang bikes... things
of life and energy, things that would be used by some alive and
unruly young punk who really didn't give a shit about law and
society. Things that were bright and sharp, not dull and glazed
and poisoned. And I'll keep on doing it, at least until I get tired
of it.
{Hmm... Suspecting who she is, I wonder how she died...}
So here. Here I am. I'm baring myself like this because I
can cry, and need people, and love, and that last, Soun, is why I
---
There was a page missing, and as hard as Akane looked,
she couldn't find it.
{But I think she's got a pretty good idea what's on it...}
She returned, and Ranma opened the book again, and they
resumed reading.
Ready for some levity, I imagine, and so am I... that was very skilfully
painful, as I imagine you intended it to be. Still, it was very
illuminating of the characters of some of our comic, or not-so-comic,
heroes, and I expect that it will turn out to be obvious that this is
the right place for it.
For some reason, I am reminded of Vlad Taltos...
Nice work.
Thanks for writing and sharing.
Vince Seifert Fanfic Analyst FFIRC Frog
Prime: seifertv@csus.edu
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Ideas are worth their weight in gold.