Ranma 1/2 used without permission
Spider-Man used without permission
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Hikaru Gosunkugi: The Amazing Spiderman: Issue Ten: Lessons (Part Three)
=====================================
Strike.
Strike.
Strike.
Tatewaki Kuno's bokken slashed the air with a hissing sound. With each
blow, he envisioned Saotome's head leaping off his shoulders in a shower of
blood and gore. Another strike, and the foul cur was eviscerated.
On and on the training regimen went, the kami ordering him to do battle
against the images in his mind. Kuno asked no questions. After all, why
would one doubt the will of heaven? If this was the way for Saotome to
finally taste death, then Kuno would follow it.
No thoughts of Akane or the pig-tailed girl entered his mind, which he
would have thought odd had he bothered to conisder it. Awake or asleep, he
did not see their images dancing before his mind's eye. He felt more
focused, more controlled. Tatewaki felt powerful.
He had also failed to notice that his aspirations had taken a much darker
turn. Before, he had envisioned merely the defeat of Saotome and the
welcoming embrace of his two true loves. Now, he only saw Ranma bleeding,
broken, wasted on the end of his sword.
Yet another strike, and Ryoga Hibiki fell to the earth.
Ranma had not been the only image against which Kuno had trained. He had
begun to see others as well, people he had never once considered worthy of
his attention suddenly coming into sharper focus. Hibiki may have been
common, but nowhere near the wretch Ranma was. Now, he was more.
Kuno asked no questions, trusting his fate solely to the kami.
He had learned new techniques of Kendo, feats of superhuman strength and
agility that he had never dreamed possible unfolding like a map. The kami,
however, insisted that he train more, marshall more of his strength before
attempting those moves in battle. The kami was truly wise.
Kuno continued with the training. He had to become ready, for Saotome would
not escape justice this time.
The symbiote heard Kuno's thoughts and became concerned over the detail of
the pig-tailed girl. Ranma was a shapeshifter, that much was obvious. Kuno
had seen it for himself countless times, yet still was unable to grasp it.
Why? The symbiote had scanned Kuno's mind countless times for a reason and
had come up with nothing. What was this human's deficiency?
Oh, well, it thought. This does not matter. If push came to shove, the
symbiote would merely force Kuno to attack. It had been testing its control
over the dimwit of late, and the results were promising.
The symbiote brought up a list of secret ninjitsu techniques, moves it had
kept hidden from Kuno's conscious mind. It would have to test these soon,
and tonight seemed like a good night.
============================================================
Akane stared out at the stars from the roof of the dojo, relishing the feel
of the cool tiles through the material of her pajamas. It had been too long
since she had gazed at the heavens, pointing out the constellations to her
mother.
Often, she wished that Ranma would join her whenever she gazed at the
stars. Neither would speak, just lay on the roof and stare at the miracle of
creation and wonder just what was out there.
"Huh?" Akane rose to a sitting position, the trailing sensation of her
nerves tingling on the edge of her consciousness. She scanned the night,
unable to find anything that could have set her off.
"Akane, you're just being paranoid," she said to herself. She leapt down
from the roof, turning around to re-enter the dojo. It was well past time
for some sleep.
The symbiote stared at Akane's retreating form through Kuno's eyes as it
evaluated its performance. It had read one of Sasuke's scrolls on
invisibility techniques, and had developed a far more practical way to
achieve the same result.
While invisible to human eyes, apparently Akane Tendo had still sensed
something watching her. Even though it had been for a brief moment, the
point of detection was unmistakeable. Perhaps it had something to do with
the output of Kuno's bio-energy? Some humans were likely sensitive to such
things, and Akane proved to be among them. It would have to find a way to
reduce the emanations of Kuno's ki in order for this technique to be
completely effective.
Ranma, it mused, going over the emotions that had radiated from Akane at
the thought of him. She cared deeply for him, perhaps they were mates? Could
it use her as a method of drawing Ranma out?
No, such would do no good. While males of most species became extremely
aggressive and foolhardy when their females were threatened, attacking Akane
Tendo would prove ultimately futile. Ranma was the main course, Akane being
merely an entertaining dessert. Kidnapping or killing her would merely serve
to enrage both the target and the host. It could not afford to have Kuno
turn away before it was done with him. Afterward, though, she and all the
others would be fair game...
==================================================
The symbiote lurked in the recesses of Kuno's mind, studying every human
who passed by. Their faces were becoming more animated as the days wore on,
as if they were awaiting something. Probably this thing they called the
"Weekend".
It felt the pulse of Kuno's ki becoming stronger with each passing hour as
it manipulated his DNA, reformatting it into a higher form. The genetic code
of these humans held great potential, moreso than some other creatures with
which it had bonded.
While it improved Kuno's DNA, the symbiote also manipulated his mind, such
as it was. Kuno had, at first, only dreamed of beating Saotome. With its
help, however, he was now dreaming of mutilating the human in a most violent
manner. After Ranma, perhaps it would attack the other martial artists of
this Nerima place. The symbiote so loved a good fight, especially a bloody one.
It saw Kuno's gaze pass over a woman with long chestnut hair walking past
him. On her back was an enormous weapon of some sort. Just how could she
effectively use such a thing in a fight? And why was she wearing the clothes
of the males here?
No matter, it thought as it found her image in Kuno's mind. Ukyo Kuonji, a
preparer of food with a restaurant nearby. Kuno had no real feelings toward
her at all, neither lustful nor hateful. And from what Kuno had seen, Ukyo
was nowhere near the level of some other fighters in the area. However, she
could prove useful later.
But for now, it was time for a field trial of sorts.
[Kuno.]
Yes, kami?
[You have progressed far in your training. Now it is time to test your new
skills.]
What must I do?
Were it capable, the symbiote would have smiled at the eagerness in Kuno's
thought.
[After school, seek out and challenge Mousse.]
Pardon? Why that heathen?
[He is one of those who stand between you and Saotome's defeat.]
But... he and I have fought against Ranma in the past. How...
[Recall that he has also fought against you,] the symbiote replied,
dredging up memories of Mousse fighting him during the Christmas party the
Tendos threw a year previous. [He has endangered Akane as well.] It then
brought up how Mousse, when he had first arrived, had kidnapped Akane as
bait for Ranma.
Yes! He HAS dared to accost the lovely Akane Tendo! He shall pay along with
Saotome!
The symbiote had to struggle to keep Kuno's outburst from escaping his
lips. On the outside, Kuno appeared calm as spring.
[Yes, he will.]
I shall have to retrieve mine bokken...
[You have no need of it. You shall test your skills unarmed on this human.]
Me, unarmed whilst Mousse has an entire arsenal?
[Place your faith in me, Kuno, and all shall be well.]
Yes...
=================================================
Mousse finished wiping down the last table to be vacated, picking up the
tip left behind. He pocketed the money, thankful that at least Cologne
didn't garnish what patrons left him. He worked for practically nothing
otherwise, save room and board, and what little money he happened upon made
up his entire salary.
From the looks of the fall season so far, he was going to be even poorer
than usual. Business had slacked off over the past month, no real surprise
given the cold turn of the weather. Lunch was usually steady, as well as
dinner, with the hours between two and five being practically dead.
Shampoo was absent, Cologne having given her some time off before dinner.
Mousse knew exactly what she was doing, and the thought galled him to no
end. To think that Saotome held so much power over women was sickening,
moreso that one of those he strung along was the one Mousse himself loved.
He looked up at the sound of the door sliding open, his greeting changing
to puzzlement.
"Greetings, Mousse," Kuno said as he slid the door closed.
"Kuno," he replied curtly. Why was stick-boy here?
"I was wondering if I could speak with you. In private."
Mousse's eyes narrowed behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Something
was very wrong with this picture. Gone was Kuno's usual arrogance and
bluster, replaced with a cold aura that raised gooseflesh on Mousse's arms.
He wants to fight me, Mousse thought as he readied a slew of shuriken. But
why not challenge me openly?
"I am currently working," Mousse said cooly.
"I believe you will change your plans. I want what you want."
"And that is?" What is this moron going on about?
"Saotome. I know how we can stop him from tormenting any more women.
Perhaps you could assist?"
"Sounds... interesting." Every instinct Mousse possessed screamed at him
not to go, that this was not right at all.
"He shall no longer hold Shampoo's heart hostage."
"Very well. Let us talk."
==============================================
The cool wind blew across the rooftop on which Mousse and Kuno now stood,
billowing the former's robes and mane of dark hair. He tapped his foot
impatiently on the rough surface of the roof, his fingers absently stroking
the longsword he had brought ready in his sleeve.
"Get on with it, Kuno. I must return to the Nekohanten before Cologne
misses me."
"As much as you, we want Saotome to die."
"Huh?" What was with that "we" remark?
"However, we also have a score to settle with you."
Kuno turned around, legs spread apart as his hands came up ready.
"I KNEW this was a trick!" Mousse shouted as he drew the longsword.
"You must pay for your crimes against Akane Tendo. And against me."
"What are you babbling about?!"
"Do you think we forgot about how you kidnapped Akane Tendo to use against
Saotome?!" Kuno roared.
"Th... that was a long time ago! Now, if you want to fight, then get on
with it!"
"Very well. Prepare yourself!"
Kuno's first attack came far faster than Mousse had expected. His fists
flew at a pace to make Ranma envious as Mousse desperately blocked the
raining blows.
When did Kuno get this fast? Mousse thought as he managed to break off. He
discarded the longsword, such a heavy weapon was all but useless in hand to
hand combat.
Kuno, for his part, merely stood in place. A leer twisted his face, eyes
shining like chips of ice. Mousse rallied with a yell, a pair of long claws
shooting from each sleeve as he charged. It was time to get serious!
Kuno's mocking laughter echoed in Mousse's ears as the former evaded each
slashing strike with balletic grace. Mousse felt his own fury rise at the
arrogance with which Kuno dodged around, the laughter making his heart pound
faster.
"DIE, KUNO!"
"You first!"
The two now traded punches and kicks, both furiously fighting to gain the
upper hand. Mousse was impressed, never had he seen Tatewaki Kuno in such
rare form. Nor had he seen Kuno fight without his bokken. Just when did he
start training in unarmed combat? And why challenge him?
Mousse siezed an opening in Kuno's defense, his claws flashing in the sun
as they sliced across Kuno's chest. The kendoist backed off, a look of
bemusement on his face.
"Starting to worry, Kuno?" Mousse snarled as the combat high grew.
"Not hardly, worm."
Mousse could only watch in astonishment as the wounds he had infliced on
Kuno faded. Then the fabric of his uniform closed as well, flowing as if it
were alive.
"What in the...?"
"Impressed?" Kuno asked. "No? You will be." The sleeves of Kuno's uniform
stretched outward to form black claws that hung to his knees. "You will be,
when we're tearing your arms off!"
What in the world? Mousse thought as Kuno charged. Mousse's own claws
retracted as he somersaulted backward just above a swipe that would have
separated his head from his body.
"GET BACK HERE, MOUSSE!"
Mousse didn't reply, instead unleashing a score of weapons and chains from
his sleeves. There was no time for finesse, he only needed to put Kuno down.
Then he would figure out what bug had crawled up the kendoist's...
"WHAT?!"
Kuno felt the righteous anger fill him as the chains streaked toward him.
There was no conscious thought, no mercy, only the sudden need to destroy
this worm.
He felt the kami guide his hands as he grabbed the chains, tendrils forming
from his clothes to grab the rest. Kuno didn't spare a second to consider
what was happening, content in the knowledge that the kami was directy
aiding him in his battle.
Mousse felt himself jerked forward with amazing force as Kuno tangled his
chains. He barely had time to wonder at how the latter's uniform had
suddenly grown tentacles, striking as if it were not only alive, but
intelligent as well.
This isn't Kuno! he thought just before he felt his back slam into the
brick and mortar of the doorway that led to the inner levels of the
building. The small protruions crumbled under the weight and velocity of his
body, briliant spots of color dancing in his vision.
The chains yanked again and Mousse found himself tumbling over the
precipice of the roof. One of the chains had wrapped around his neck just
before his momentum stopped and everything went black.
The symbiote looked down at the dangling form of Mousse, debating the
human's fate. It had ensured that the fall would not kill him, the chain
having missed the hanging vertebrea, vagal nerve, and the jugular vein. In
fact, Mousse could hang there for hours and not strangle.
Killing the human would have been entertaining, yes, however such an act
would set everyone else on their guard. Besides, this was not yet the time
to start snuffing out lives. But it couldn't let Mousse give Kuno away, either.
The symbiote commanded Kuno to haul Mousse back to the roof before it
completely took over. It rejoiced in the wet sounds of what Kuno's hands did
to Mousse's body, warm blood splashing across its physical manifestation.
It halted when it felt a familiar presence nearing below, and decided that
it was time to leave a calling card.
=====================================================
Shampoo was beyond disappointed. She was downright angry.
Where had Ranma been all day? She had been unable to find a trace of him at
any of his old haunts, and no one she had spoken to had seen him. Why would
he vanish like that?
The ramen she had made especially for him was an hour cold, unfit for Ranma
to eat, and Shampoo was left to fume.
"Where you go, Ranma?" she asked nobody in particular as she steered her
bike along the sidewalk, no fences being handy in this part of town. She was
due back at the Nekohanten within the next ten minutes to help with the
dinner rush. Mousse wouldn't be able to handle it all alone.
"Stupid Mousse," she growled. Why couldn't that pea-brain get the hint? She
was NOT interested!
The fluttering of white fabric caught her eye, Shampoo stopping the bike
just before Mousse hit the ground in front of her.
Speak of the devil, Shampoo groused.
"Mousse getting clumsy," she said haughtily, glaring down at his prone
form. Hey, what was all that blood doing on him?
Shampoo's stomach began to twist as she dismounted her bicycle. Mousse's
robes rose and fell unsteadily, a low gurgle sounding from his throat.
"Mousse?" Those wounds... What had happened? Shampoo knelt bedside him,
heart beating faster as her stomach knotted. She gently turned Mousse over...
"AIYAH! MOUSSE!" His body... the blood... Shampoo nearly felt ill at the sight.
"Hang on, Mousse!" she shouted as she lifted him off the sidewalk. "Shampoo
take you to help now!" With that, she charged off in the direction of the
Nekohanten, hoping against hope that Mousse was not going to die on her.
Who could have done this?
The symbiote looked down at the purple-haired woman carrying Mousse to
relative safety. The others would see the damage, and learn that it was a
force to be reckoned with.
Of course, that was a lesson no one would REALLY learn until Ranma fell.
It had gotten carried away with the work it had done on Mousse, inflicting
far more serious damage that it had first intended. It was entirely possible
that Mousse would die after all.
It was too late, anyway. The symbiote turned Kuno around and set off for
home. It would hide the memory from Kuno's conscious mind. Rather, the
images would come in dreams the symbiote controlled in order to desensitize
him to the prospect of such violence and further bring him under its sway.
Soon, now, very soon...
============================================================
"Great-grandmother! Come quick!"
"What's all the ruckus about?" Cologne asked, concerned at the tone of
Shampoo's voice. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
"Is Mousse! Come quick!"
Cologne hopped out into the lobby of the Nekohanten and froze. Mousse lay
on one of the tables of the vacant restaurant, blood soaking his once-white
robes.
"What happened, child?" Cologne hissed as she analyzed what she could see
of the wounds.
"Shampoo not know! Shampoo riding bike home, then Mousse drop out of sky
like this!"
"Get him in his bed and remove his clothing," Cologne ordered as she moved
to lock the front doors. "We must clean his wounds and halt the bleeding. He
has lost too much blood already."
"Right!" Shampoo bounded off upstairs with Mousse over her shoulder.
Cologne, meanwhile, began to mentally assemble a list of medicines and
treatments that would prevent the half-blind fool from dying.
Save his life first, she thought. Then find out who is responsible for this.
It wasn't as if she held any special feelings for Mousse, he was a male
after all and a foolish one at that. But, if nothing else, Mousse was an
absolute master of the hidden weapons technique and a highly dangerous
fighter in his own right. For someone to have done this to him...
Cologne hopped to her room and began to assemble the necessary poultices
and herbs. Mousse had no enemies that she could readily think of. None, at
least, capable of injuring him to such an extent.
Cologne proceeded to Mousse's room. First she would stabilize him, then she
would set about to finding out who was responsible.
=====================================================
Shampoo stared around the rooftop, a small flashlight in her hands casting
a circle of light across the surface.
What happened here?
A longsword lay on the surface, its blade pocked in various places.
Shuriken, ropes, and chains lay scattered about among the bloodstains,
discarded the same as the sword.
Shampoo shivered against the cold, wishing she had worn something warmer as
she searched the rooftop. In one corner lay the remains of a doorway that
led to the stairwell, the reason for its collapse unknown.
Hmmm.. Most of the blood is here, Shampoo thought as she shone the light on
the center of the roof. That was where most of the carnage had ensued,
obviously.
Why didn't you fight back, Mousse? Perhaps you couldn't? Maybe whoever had
done this had first incapacitated him before tearing into his body. Then why
leave him alive? If this person had meant to kill Mousse, then why toss him
off the roof? Any decent martial artist would have survived the fall.
What if it wasn't a coincidence?
The thought gave Shampoo pause, the night suddenly seeming much colder. She
had been riding by just as Mousse had been thrown to the pavement. Perhaps
whoever was responsible had seen her approach and decided to leave Mousse
as... what? A warning?
But why Mousse? If this was an attempt to get at her, then Mousse would
have been a poor choice for a target. Ranma, on the other hand, would have
made a much better victim.
Shampoo switched off the flashlight as she moved to the edge of the roof.
She stared down at the pavement below, voices from the people walking
beneath reaching her ears as a jumbled mass.
Stand back from it, she thought to herself. Look at the matter objectively.
What do you know for certain?
One: Mousse had been working during the slow shift, Shampoo having had the
afternoon off. Whoever this person was had managed to lure him out of the
Nekohanten to this rooftop several blocks distant.
Two: Said individual had ripped Mousse apart, nearly killing him in the
process.
Three: He then left Mousse for Shampoo to find.
Okay, she thought. What does this information tell me?
Mousse hadn't been openly challenged, at least not at first. Had that been
the case then the battle would have been fought in the lobby of the
Nekohanten. But then how did this person convince Mousse to come out?
An epiphany struck Shampoo like a bolt of lightning, sending electric
tendrils of dread down her spine.
Whoever had done this to Mousse had to be someone he knew. There was no way
a total stranger could have brought him out here.
But who? Mousse trusted practically no one, not even in the village. The
only one he would have trusted was her, and Shampoo had nothing to do with
what had happened up here.
Then whoever was responsible was someone Mousse knew, and who knew him well
enough to know exactly which buttons to press.
But Mousse was... well... he was a good fighter. It would take someone with
considerable skill to rip him apart like that.
Who do I know with that kind of ability?
Shampoo ran down the list of Nerima's martial artists, first disregarding
those who wouldn't stand a chance against Mousse. Akane, Ukyo and Kuno
wouldn't be able to go the distance with him in a knock-down drag-out brawl.
Now, which of those left would be vicious enough to harm him like that?
Ranma wasn't even a consideration. Ryoga? No, it just wasn't the lost boy's
style. Happosai? Possibly. Kodachi?
Shampoo leapt off the roof, landing in a crouch on the sidewalk below.
Kodachi was, for want of a better term, insane. Shampoo had every reason to
believe that Kuno's sister would be cruel enough to beat an opponent that
savagely. Her skill with poisons would perhaps be enough to incapacitate
Mousse while she mangled him.
But that didn't make sense, either. From what she had seen, Kodachi's
madness always had a defineable purpose; namely to get Ranma for herself.
What would she stand to gain from harming Mousse like that? How would it help?
Shampoo pushed the thoughts and speculations out of her head, clearing her
mind of useless clutter. The simple truth was that she had no real suspects
and no way to determine one. Yet. All she could do was wait, and warn Ranma.
Past experience had shown her that if there was trouble to be found, it
would find him.
=================================================================
Cologne stared out at the night through the small window of Mousse's
bedroom. The latter lay on a simple mattress on the floor, bandages covering
most of his body. Many of them were stained a pale red from where the
bleeding had just recently been staunched.
For hours she had worked on his injuries, employing healing techniques she
had not had to use in decades. Even then they had barely been enough. The
bleeding had stopped, yet the damage to his internal organs was extensive.
It was entirely possible that Mousse would not live out the week.
I have done all I can, she thought tiredly. Now we can only wait and see.
Shampoo had come in an hour previous and described in detail the scene of
the fight. She then told Cologne of her conclusions, the old woman merely
nodding in agreement and approval.
Cologne nearly chuckled at the situation. Rarely had any Joketsuoku woman,
much less an elder, spent so much effort in saving the life of a male who
was not her husband. Mousse was an annoyance of the highest order, yet the
look in Shampoo's eyes when she had brought him in was unmistakeable.
It had not been love, by any means, yet genuine concern. Cologne had always
known that Shampoo was not as indifferent to Mousse as she claimed. If the
half-blind twit had ever gotten over his misguided feelings, the two of them
could have become close friends, but never more than that.
Cologne ended that train of thought, bringing her mind back to the present.
Trying to determine why she was fighting so hard to save Mousse was an
exercise in futility. She only knew that she was, and for now that was enough.
Son-in-law, she thought, keep your guard up. This shadow's work is not yet
done.