IF Brenda has three apples and Paul has four, then Adric eats
them all, how severe a beating will Adric get, and how does this
relate to the fact that I own none of these characters, who are the
property of Rumiko Takahashi, and Neil Gaiman?
Answer
very, and not a lot, so don't sue me!
***
What has come before?
While engaged in his usual Akane inspired acrobatics, Ranma was
fated to die. However, due to a minor miscalculation on Death's
behalf, She has accidentally gotten herself engaged to him. After
long day of getting pounded on he has returned home to a angry
Akane and a solicitous Death. NOW READ ON
***
Chapter tertius:
"Um, so what do we need to talk about?" asked Ranma
intelligently as he
attempted to peel his shoes off in the doorway to the Tendo home.
It
wasn't made easier for the mud deeply wedged into the ankles and
toes.
"Well... Look it's complicated," prevaricated Death, "it's gonna be
easier to sit down and talk this one through than just drop it on
you.
Really." She finished with a winning smile.
Ranma looked up at Death blankly, and nodded vaguely. Akane
glowered. She
wasn't happy about this... this... *FLOOZY* hanging around her
Ranma, not
that she wanted the stupid lug in the first place... Dragging her
mallet
behind her she followed them in to the main living area.
Genma and Soun were of course playing Shogi, although for once
Genma was
in his human form. He was also lying on his side, accepting plates
full
of finger foods from Kasumi, who wore a highly mortified
expression on
her
face. It was clear that the eldest Tendo daughter was regretting her
broom
powered outburst intensely. Whilst she had been perfectly entitled
to join
in a certain amount of the chastisement, she had become totally
carried
away with herself... The main reason she no longer practised the
art.
Nabiki was perched on a cushion, sat against the porch, a
magazine idly
held in her hands. From time to time she'd lick her finger and turn
the
page, then play with a lose strand of hair, before licking her finger
and... Looking over at the content gave a totally deceptive reason
for
her glassy eyed staring into infinity, as the faces of the Three
Lights,
a new male idol group, were spread over the glossy pages. For
some reason
she would periodically look over at a wall hanging that hadn't been
there
earlier, and sigh.
Ranma sat down warily. His skill was with his fists not his mouth,
and he
heartily detested any confrontation where verbosity could
overwhelm his
ability to deliver pinpoint accurate violence to the one attacking
him.
It was one of the holds Nabiki held over him, well, that and the
lingerie
shots that he'd been too embarrassed to use as bait when
attempting to
overcome Happosai's moxibustion attack.
Breaking the silence Akane fairly crashed down at the table, her
face
stoic, her eyes livid, as she glared over at their latest guest with
hawk-like ferocity. Not that she was doing this for Ranma of
course. She
just cou
ldn't stand people who interfered with her life. She might be fond of
Ranma at times, but there as NO way that she could love the stupid
obnoxious perverted baka!
Death seated herself with quiet grace and looked at the two
children
seated opposite her. Sighing to herself she pondered where to
begin.
"Well, I guess you're all wondering why I called you here today,"
she
began brightly. Seeing Akane begin to warm up for an insult, she
hastily
changed tack. "It was sort of a family joke. Anyway... this is fairly
difficu
lt for me to deal with as well, so let me explain in my own way."
Ranma nodded, Akane closed her mouth, not willing to give an
inch.
"I was here to take Ranma on after his death today - " began
Death only
to have Akane gasp in horror and attempt to leap at her, murder
writ
large in her eyes.
"You were going to kill him weren't you! Get him all to yourself that
way! You can't have him, I won't let you kill him!" screamed Akane,
thrusting the table away from her, and jumping at Death, her fingers
poised to gou
ge eyes, when Death flickered, and vanished. Akane, robbed of a
target,
hit the floor, rolling with the impact and coming back up in a ready
stance, arms raised, feet spread, eyes roving.
Death reappeared at the far side of where the table had been,
frowning
slightly, a extremely displeased look in her eyes.
"I didn't try to kill him," she hissed angrily, " I NEVER kill! I take
those who have died, but I do NOT kill! YOU do that!" she finished
in a
low cold tone. Akane looked across the room scornfully, not yet
willing
to ri
sk another attack, Ranma leaping to her side, with slightly less
than his
usual alacrity, his eyes troubled by what Death was saying.
"Telute," he asked in a puzzled manner, while his body almost
unconsciously assumed his favoured guard position. "What do you
mean you
don't kill - she does?"
Death smiled at the martial pair slightly, her eyes sympathetic.
"What I
mean Ranma is that I was there waiting for you to land in that
pond and
drown. The only reason that you didn't, is because I wasn't
expecting to
se
e a red haired girl fall in. You were unconscious in that pool, having
hit
your head on the Dojo roof on the way past - and who hit you up
there...?
I'll remind you - Akane."
Akane barely heard. So she hit Ranma, so what? He deserved it!
Anyway,
he'd always survived before, there was no excuse to call her a
murderer!
For Ranma however there was quite another reaction. his arms
dropped
fractionally, and he shifted his attention from Death to the young
woman
at his side. A young woman who, he had to acknowledge,
regularly beat the
livi
ng hell out of him, tried to poison him on a regular basis, and
absolutely
refused to allow any deviation from what she wanted - reacting
violently
and without thought when provoked.
Ranma had to admit, Death had a point.
As did the Dai-katana that appeared from behind the new wall
hanging
thingy - Ranma being unable to tell his arass from his elbow.
Looking
down the blade he saw the angry figure of his mother. Flinching
slightly,
even th
ough the business with the seppuku pledge had been resolved
successfully
over a year previously, he raised a hand and waved slightly.
"Erm... Hi Mom.... "
Nabiki nodded to herself. It was sooner than she had planned, but
under
the circumstances, she could quite understand Nodoka's reaction.
Smiling
to herself she murmured "Hold, a rat! Dead for a ducat dead!"
Frowning
she
reconsidered; that was probably far to appropriate for the situation.
After all she'd miss her sister, even though she brought the whole
mess
on down on her head on her own. Worrying slightly at her bottom
lip, she
started to run though *any* plan she could think of to make sure
that
every
one survived this meeting.
There weren't that many that she could bring to mind.
***
Ryoga sat in front of a small campfire, naked while his clothes
dried
enough for him to dry off. After loosing Azusa, and retrieving his
pack,
he'd settled to the worst part of his curse - the wait for humanity to
return
. For Ranma this wasn't a problem, he was human whatever, and
always had
easy access to hot water. For Mousse and Shampoo matters were
made easier
by the fact that everyone knew of their curses, and would offer hot
water
almost instantly they were seen. Genma had hands even as a
panda, so he
had no troubles either.
However for him the situation was poor. Unable to tell people of his
curse for fear it would get back to Akane, he had to change back
under
his own power. This was rather more complicated than it looked.
First he
had to
find his clothes, or one of the packs he'd secreted around the town
in out
of the way locations, or at least places that he got lost in a lot.
There
were quite a few, placed in a pattern across the globe that would
have s
pelled out quite an interesting set of observations about Ranma...
had
anyone the ability to plot them.
Then came the truly interesting part - building a fire with his teeth,
firing his Ki attack into the wood, trying not to incinerate it - he
frequently vaporised the putative firewood, and had to begin again.
This
was a p
roblem that got worse with each failure, each attempt would be
followed by
a sense of uselessness and bitter disappointment and rage,
fuelling his
emotional state, making the blast harder to control. Still, once the
fire
was going, all he had to do was heat the small pan of water he
carried at
all times, and wait for his clothes to dry enough so that they
wouldn't
reactivate his curse.
Ryoga had spent a lot of time perfecting this routine. He was now
able to
return to his human form in less than an hour, kami willing, and
provided
he could find wood, and his pack.
He frequently spent these times waiting thinking of revenge on
Ranma, or
his love for Akane, but for once his thoughts took a different tack.
Ryoga hated to admit it, but he was lonely. However, when he
fought
Ranma, the
re was a sense of completeness, something that was right. His
Challenges
were a mere formality, what he truly craved was the sense of
camaraderie
that came with the martial exercise.
More and more of late he'd pondered this question. What drew him
back to
Nerima? his desire for revenge had waned slowly. He (frequently)
had had
it pounded into him enough that it HAD been partially his own fault
that
J
usenkyo had happened. If his pride hadn't blinded him to his own
inability
to find places, he would have accepted Ranma's offer to take him
to the
abandoned lot for their fight. Instead his pigheadedness ...
He snorted. He finally knew why he'd charged blithely off after his
friend to China. Friend. An odd word... But Ryoga knew that in a
twisted
sort of manner, Ranma and he were friends. Forged in the heat of
battle,
their
two lives had twined around each other, each the reflection of the
other.
Ranma was the quick popular one, with the arrogance, charisma
and good
looks, himself with his power, his strength, his isolation, low self
esteem, homely plain face. Between them they made one martial
artist, and
that m
artial artist was one to be feared. Ryoga looked back at all of the
kindnesses Ranma had shown him so thoughtlessly, to him, who
had Ben
supposed an enemy...
Ryoga sighed and leapt at the pan, knocking to contents over
himself,
returning to human in the middle of a forwards roll taking him
neatly out
of the fire. Pulling on his clothes, he considered again. When he'd
Ben
told of Ranma's near death... Near? he was dead! He'd been
horrified...
he'd covered well, but deep down he'd known that without Ranma
he was
no-one. It had lead to his over hasty and over violent reaction at the
gate - he'd
had to challenge his battling brother to reassure himself that
Ranma truly
lived. That didn't mean that he wasn't annoyed by the 'P-chan'
comments
however....
Still now all he had to do was return to the Dojo, and try to explain
some of this to his brother. This close call was TOO close. Ranma
had
nearly died before... but when Nabiki had explained that Ranma
was
supposed to b
e dead, he'd rushed out barely hearing her explanation for his
survival.
All he knew was that this time was different. He couldn't return to
his
status quo. Finally he would have to admit to his friendship for
Ranma. He
c ouldn't let Ranma die with bad blood between them. Killing him
with bad
blood, yes, he admitted wryly, but just dying... it would be a
travesty.
It had been fun tormenting him... after all, Ranma teased him
enough, but
beneath it all Ranma had never taken advantage, had often
stopped to help
him, and if he cut into Ryoga's mooning time over Akane? He'd
pound him
flat! After all - just because he was a friend didn't mean that he'd
forget where the friendship had been forged.
In the battlefield.
Ryoga repacked his travel pack, and walked off humming quietly to
himself. He walked left, left right left left right....and disappeared
into the distance. He'd get back to the Dojo eventually. Somehow
he
always did.
***
AD 1698, Japan. Hokkaido.
Desire watched a young samurai closely. The warrior had the
unerring
ability to be where he wanted to be, cutting large swathes through
the
Ronin - bandits who had attacked the train his sworn liege. The
train
contained
the entire taxes of the region, all bound for the Shogun's castle at
Osaka. Already the train had lost half of the Samurai it had started
with,
but this did not deter the warriors. This was their sworn duty- to get
the
tr ain to it's destination, or die, either in battle or by their own
hands.
On the plain the man swung again, and allowed his back swing to
gut the
bandit who had crept up behind him. Looking around for an instant,
he set
off at a lope to the next cluster of fighters, already planning where
he
c
ould be of most use. Desire was amused. The warrior stock this
man
represented could make a most useful foil for the man it planned to
set
it's sister with...
Looking around Desire nodded to itself. it would be a pity if this
man
were to die before he could have children. With a thought Desire
manipulated the stock of energy that Destruction had allowed it
access to
before his departure. Focusing on the man before it, Desire
imbued it
with the chaotic power of Destruction. Not much. It would take a
great
deal of time for this to manifest itself, but it did strengthen his
chances of breeding su
ccessfully. Desire chuckled, and vanished, leaving the fearful
slaughter
in its wake.
The train made it safely to Osaka. The young Samurai who had so
caught
Desire's attention was married to the nephew of a powerful but
poor noble
house. The next day he left, with his bride and her maid for the
north of
H
okkaido. Once more they were ambushed, the samurai falling from
his horse
with an arrow in his throat in the first wave of the unexpected arrow
storm. The Ronin were driven off, but the mortally wounded man
committed
sepp uku with dignity, his wife as his second.
He was Seventeen, survivor of a hundred attacks, and
unquestioned in
loyalty to his Daimyo. Even as he slipped into the great void his
last
thought was of the dispatches their group carried to their master.
And
his wife
whom he regretted not knowing better.
She survived. As did her newly conceived son
To carry forwards the name of Hibiki Ota for future generations.
****
Nodoka stared at her son. Carefully composing herself she
gestured him to
one side, the tip of the blade glinting like the fangs of a cobra
before
the swift deadly strike.
"Son, I am glad to see you are well, however this killer cannot be
allowed to go free - she has ended the line of Saotome, it is mere
good
fortune that you have survived. She must commit PAY for harming
you!" she
whisper
ed, maternal urges warring with her love for the wild child of the
Tendo
family. It would be close to whether she struck in anger at the harm
her
son had received, or would allow her usual calm to steel over her,
replacin g the wild rage with wise counsel.
"Mom, it was an accident - look I know she's a tomboy and she
thinks with
that hammer of hers but she didn't mean it!" Ranma paused. This
was
evidently not the right tack, his mothers fingers gripping the hilt of
the swo
rd in a spasm of cold anger, turning white under the pressure.
"Would that comfort me at your grave? would that please you in the
afterlife?" Asked Nodoka calmly, her eyes still locked onto Akane,
who
sat beneath them, pinned like a butterfly on a board. Across the
room,
Soun sat an
d wept. For honour he could do nothing. Nodoka was quite right.
He hoped
that she would not force his daughter to use the tanto her mother
had
ended her life with when the pain had become intolerable, but for
once, he
fou nd himself held immobile by the very honor that he had used to
bring
the two together. He lived his life a Edo period concept of duty, and
it
was about to turn about and bite home...
Genma watched impassively. He knew his wife. As long as no
blood was
spilt now, they could fix the situation. He hoped. Absently he
swiped a
number of Soun's shogi tiles, the hand moving with no feedback
from his
brain.
His whole attention was fixed upon the drama playing in front of
him.
Death watched in passive calm. However she didn't get the sense
that
anyone was to die soon, so she just sat and waited for her chance
to
speak. After all, until this was resolved one way or the other, she
wouldn't have
their full attention for the talk she needed to have with them...
"Mother," began Ranma formally, sensing this was the way to go,
"Akane
Tendo is my iinazuke. I will not let you harm her for an event that
was
avoided. I am well, and she has learnt her lesson... " A sharp jab
in the
rib
s woke Akane from her stupor, the mallet raising into the air almost
by
itself....
Akane looked at the tool blankly. If the lady in black... what had
Ranma
called her? Telute? If Telute hadn't messed up, she would have
killed
him! Her berserk rage had gotten hold of her again... and this was
the
symbol of it... She had been about to hit Ranma for the jab, but
surely
that would have infuriated his mother... and would have
demonstrated how
little she was able to learn from her actions, how driven by the
beast
that the a
rt had failed to tame...
Akane stared at the mallet held at shoulder height in front of her.
With
a swift decision, she swung it down, bringing her knee up. It
shattered
along the handle.
Proffering the lumps of her signature weapon, her eyes downcast,
and her
tongue laden with shame, she nodded and spoke.
"Hai, Saotome-san. Hai. Gomen nasai..."
***
Nabiki breathed a sigh of relief as Nodoka put up her blade,
Weighing
Akane with her eyes, before slowly nodding and sheathing it. It
had been
close for a few moments, but with luck this would turn out
correctly, and
eve
ryone would be happy... Well... A girl could hope?
Actually she was relieved beyond belief. She had begun to write
death
poems for her youngest sister when she had begun that swing, but
she had
been impressed with the way she had recovered from her anger,
and
shattered h
er weapon. Nabiki knew of the rage that drove Akane. She shared
in it in
some manner - a legacy of their father. Kasumi controlled it tightly,
holding herself in, scared of the results if she let it slip - as this
afterno on had shown. Akane had always let it have free play, her
training
in the art freeing it's destructive potential rather than controlling and
negating the impulse.
And she dealt with it by sublimating it. By allowing it controlled
access
through her periodic mercenary ventures she found herself able to
keep a
level balance, between the fear of own soul of her eldest sister and
the
rage against the world of her younger.
Nabiki finally began to breath normally again, and turned her
attention
to the magazine in her hands, daydreaming softly of the cute
specimens of
manhood on the glossy pages. Of course, being Nabiki she
allowed herself
t
o listen to the room with one indifferent ear, her perfect memory for
indiscretions would allow her to record any major slip-ups. Life was
good.
She let herself go into the dream of a mansion in the hills
overlooking
Tokyo, with a rich husband, and a young child of her own....
***
Authors notes
usually flat and out of key
I was a little worried over this one - I kinda got writers block in the
middle, along with a visit from my younger siblings... it's a real pain
trying to write with people sleeping in the front room... especially
consider ing I do my best work at 2am in the morning<smiles>
Anyway, I'm still trying to work around to the point where Death will drop
the bombshell over Ranma, but bear with me - we'll get there!
Sorry 'bout Ota... but it was a brutal time. And the endless haven't
finished with them yet.
Not much else to say, sorry if this one is a little disjointed, but I hope
I got the inner feel of the characters right - I've always been fond of
Ryoga (those fangs are CUTE!) but I do apologise if I've stolen anyone's t
houghts on him. I seem to recall reading a similar sort of inner soul
search elsewhere, but I can't bring it to mind - Gomen, and thank you for
setting me on this particular path, I think he deserves it.
And I'm sorry for saying sorry so much<smiles>
Zen, you're great
Everyone who replied to part one - I love ya!
Bailesu-Sama, Hosmer-San, you're my heroes! now finish up Z18!
Again, I own no rights to any characters. don't sue me.
Email to <
kathy@linuxgrrls.org
22-04-00 - 31-05-00
Teaser for part 4
"I'd say that no-one objects then," interjected Death wryly. She
felt for the poor child, but she had to agree with the words of the
mother in front of her. The match really wasn't the best.
"In that case I am leaving," announced Nodoka, picking up her
blade, and turning to leave. "When my husband returns tell him I
shall be waiting for him at our house." With a measured tread she
began to leave, only to stop as Soun at last regained the power of
speach.
"Then Nabki shall marry Ranma!"
*Why me?* thought Ranma rhetorically.
"Why am I not surprised," murmered Death.
Nodoka paused, inclining her head fractionally, then left.
Ranma fainted, even as Soun began to cheer, his dreams
saved.
Ryoko
myaa!
Mail Eternal power, make-up!