To reply, post publically or e-mail the author at brian@azurite.org
Enjoy!


The FFML Refugee List


    Yes, it's that time again. Where I start yet another new fic. Is
that all I do? No... I plan on releasing the next chapter of Rursus
Iterum as soon as the pre-reader is done with it.

    *waggles a finger* You know who you are. ;)

    And I think it's back to the UC for a bit after this. Yep yep yep.



And 'lo the Mighty Have Fallen

Intro

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction

 Disclaimer: The paints belong to Takahashi, the easel is mine.

 Notes: Diverges, oh, just before Ryugenzawa. Yes. That sounds good.


 In an alley in Sakai, not far from the heart of Osaka, there was a
slight scuffling noise. In the depths of the quiet alley, a single man
squared off against a united trio of opponents.

 The man seemed singularly unremarkable. Fairly generous girth, mostly
muscle, thick beard, and a determined set to his eyes. Were it not for
those details, and the keibo he wielded, he would have been impossible
to remember in a crowd. His name wasn't even that memorable, either.
Kuonji Akira.

 His weapon was roughly 38 centimeters long, but spoke of swift death in
the man's hands; it was wielded so deftly. The combat spatula that was
his family's stock in trade had failed him some time ago, and he doubted
the weapon's ability to rival his current armament.

 The three men confronting him seemed to be average salarymen, except
that they moved with a subtle grace that showed their martial skills.
One of them gestured his companions back, drawing a tanto from his suit
sleeve.

 Akira grimaced at the salaryman, baring his teeth. The entire scene was
surreal in the extreme, for no words had been exchanged. Seemingly
frightened of breaking the silence, the apparent-salaryman lunged,
hoping to gore his opponent.

 Too slow -- the salaryman received a crushing blow on his wrist,
shattering the joint and sending sharpened fragments of bone exploding
through his skin to strike the ground with sickeningly moist impacts.
The salaryman's eyes widened, but he allowed himself only a hiss,
cradling his wounded and bloodied hand protectively, while his
companions exchanged a silent glance, and the tanto descended towards
the pavement.

 Wasting no time, the two men drew their own blades and advanced,
quickly setting into their opponent.

 By the time the dropped tanto had reached the ground, the man seemed to
shift and... blur... more than actually move. The second salaryman
received a crushed collarbone and several ruined ribs, while his
companion barely dodged a blow that would have destroyed his pelvic arc,
still receiving a blow that shattered his kneecap on the back swing.

 The man was good. Probably much better than all three salarymen, but
the first wounded man flicked his good hand towards Akira as he wheeled
about, dodging a close strike, leaving him unable to avoid a flat barbed
blade.

 Burying itself in the ball of his left shoulder, the needle halted his
arm movement, a stinging/numbing sensation telling the man that it was
poisoned. He gritted his teeth, sweeping the keibo backwards quickly
enough to make the air snap, a startlingly loud noise in the night, as
he effortlessly cleft the trio in twain.

 For a long moment he stood there, holding the pose and readjusting the
flow of his chi, staving off the effects of the poison. Nearly a full
eight seconds later, the first man fell, landing in two pieces and
spreading his blood and viscera across the alley. As if it were a
signal, his companions joined him, their mingled blood tainting the
pavement.

 The man was already gone, hurrying into the night, and thinking to
himself, <You've failed, you've failed, you're a dead man, and Genma
Saotome is going to join you! The entire strength of the
Gounomono-no-Hogosha cannot save him now! Oh, you fool, you fool, you
fool!>

 He hesitated on a street corner and jerked the barbed and jagged piece
of metal from his shoulder, unmindful of the cartilage and bits of
ligament that were torn out with it. <Oh, why do I have to pass this
burden on to my child? Why!?>

 The tingling and burning sensation that he could feel slowly overriding
the numbness as his arm slowly grew cold. He concentrated his willpower
on his thoughts, his body already failing him as he slumped to the
ground near the beginning of a long row of torii before him signifying
that he was near a shrine to Inari.

 Smiling grimly, he lurched towards the red wooden structure, dragging
himself with the one arm that sill responded. Beneath the first of the
torii.

 <Blood of my ancestors.>

 The dry scent of the earth beneath him, in a place where a shrine to
Inari should not be, was pleasantly offset by the scent of the sea air
from the harbor, wonderfully free of the scent of pollution in his
poison dulled senses. Another torii, and his palm was raw, while he
could no longer feel his ankles.

 <Hear my plea.>

 A slight night breeze swept through, and with it, a flood of sakura
petals, woefully out of season. Even with his senses dulled as they
were, he recognized that fact, but paid it no heed, working his arm
mechanically, while his body worked to keep the poison away from his
heart as only the powers of the Gounomono-no-Hogosha could. Another
torri, and he barely crossed beneath it, resisting the slowly
overpowering urge to lie still and rest, just a moment to catch his
breath, surely...

 <Seal then this place and this night, with the mark of Zocho, and hide
my child's ward. She is not yet ready...>

 His vision began to blur as he relentlessly dragged himself further
towards the fourth torii. He couldn't see past it, but knew what awaited
him, and did not intend to fall short of his goal.

 <Inari, hear my wish and bear my message to my master, I beg of you...>

 It wasn't right, but his mind was too jumbled to supply him with the
correct words. He grunted, his lips having become painfully dry with
dirt as he dragged himself along. Clear of the fourth and final torii,
he gasped one last time, letting his otherworldly sight fade.

 <Ukyou, I'm sorry...>

 All that was left to be found in the morning was a dead man in the
streets of the harbor town, surrounded in an eerily concise circle of
rice grains and rose petals.

 ***

 Across Japan, in a quiet restaurant, a slumbering girl suddenly
suffused with a dull red aura, shot through with creeping black
tendrils. She gasped in pain, sitting up sharply. Her pupils dilated in
the darkness of her room, faintly illuminated by the glow, and she
dropped her face into her hands. "No..." she whimpered. "Daddy...
don't... I'm not ready for this yet!"

 She sobbed into the unforgiving night, her body wracked by the force of
her emotion. "Why? Don't leave me, Daddy!" Curling up into a ball on her
futon, she wept, "I don't want to be alone again..."

 ---
 This came out of the result of a long and heated debate with Ginrai.
Well, that's not true, but it sound a lot more interesting than
admitting I took this fic idea up on a dare. I strive for accuracy, if I
make any errors, please tell me. And/all C&C is appreciated, though the
bulk of this story isn't going to be written until after the UC is
complete.


--
Haiku of my lament:

Forgive my spelling,
my U.S. education,
is the source of blame.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
                     desaix@sysnet.net
Sir Desaix, member # 116 of the Knights of the True Fiancee           
              anime  fanfics available at 
  http://www.geocities.com/zednik.geo/fanfics.htm

	     .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'