This is the first half of the chapter, including the previously posted
teaser. Still need to put the finishing touches on the second half before it
goes out to prereaders. There should be enough for it to merit being posted,
I think.

Avenging
Chapter 7
Honey, I Shrunk Kasumi

Any and all C+C is appreciated. You can contact me at
sommer@3rdm.net
 or viper02@nauticom.net

At Larry F's at:
http://lwf58.tripod.com/fan_fiction/d_b_sommer/index.html

Or R+C books at:
http://dbsommer.rcbooks.org

And also Angcobra is now storing all of my fics, at
http://s5.sexshare.com/~angcobra/dbsommer.html

Standard disclaimer:
I don't own any of the any of the Marvel characters, or the folks from Ranma
1/2 or any of the other various anime sources I refer to here.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mopping the sweat from her brow with an embroidered silk handkerchief,
Kodachi Kunou gave a satisfied smirk at her handiwork. The modifications
were finally completed. It had taken a great deal of sweat and toil for the
better part of the last two days, but the results were what she desired. The
Iron Rose Mark II armor could now fit into the attach� case she had
especially designed for it. True, the case was a bit large, three times the
size of a normal attach� case, but it was necessary. The armor was just too
bulky to fit in something smaller, even having been redesigned to be
collapsible, as it was now.

The need to carry the armor around at all times had become a necessary evil.
Recent events, combined with what she had just learned about the stock
situation concerning Kunou Industries, clearly indicated someone was
targeting her family's business for a takeover of the most hostile kind.
Kunou Industries' stock was being purchased at an astronomical rate by a
number of different sources. On the surface, it appeared to be little more
than normal, if somewhat healthy, trading. However, when she dug a good bit
deeper, it became apparent that most of the buyers were nothing more than
propped up fronts. The truth was obvious; there was a major player who was
preparing to make her family's company their own. Kodachi had not yet
uncovered who the mystery person (or persons) behind the plot was, but she
had hired a small army of investigators to discover the identity of schemer
or company. It was only a matter of time before the truth was uncovered, and
she would have a name for the problems plaguing her.

It was also clear that whoever was moving in for the takeover was probably
behind the disappearances of both her father and brother. Neither would have
parted with the company willingly any more than Kodachi would have. With any
of them at the helm, and with their controlling stock, a takeover would be
nearly impossible. Without them, it would go smoothly and save the person
trying to buy the company billions of yen. That was more than enough motive
for any ruthless person or corporation to have the only potential stumbling
blocks eliminated, or at least try to eliminate them.

After Misuharu Ohama's mysterious assassination attempt failed, a second
effort was made on Kodachi's life. Luckily, security had proven their worth
by catching the would-be bomber before he managed to enter Kodachi's
offices. Both attempts were nearly identical. The man had been an employee
for Kunou Industries for nearly two decades and by all accounts was
satisfied with his job and pay. He had a family that he loved dearly. He had
no known outstanding debts and his bank account had the expected amount of
money in it. There was no reason for him to try to kill her. Once the man
had been interrogated, it became obvious his mental condition was similar to
Ohama's. He had fallen victim to some sort of brainwashing as well, and no
leads had turned up on that clue to date either.

Kodachi had little doubt that it was only a matter of time before this
mystery person attacked her again through another surrogate. It would be up
to her to uncover the identity of her assailant, or more accurately, it
would be up to the Iron Rose. That meant keeping the armor close at hand.
The only way to do that was to conceal it. Enter her new attach� case. She
was going to show it off to the world. Once people became used to her always
walking around with it like it was surgically attached to her, no one would
be suspicious that she and the Iron Rose were the same. It was a magnificent
plan.

She closed the lid on the case. A mental note was made to redesign the
helmet again to make it more collapsible, since she had to use a great deal
of muscle to force the top shut and latch it tight. Once it was closed, it
looked fine, except for the large size of the case. She grabbed the handle
and pulled it off the table it was resting on...

...And promptly screamed in pain as it landed squarely on her foot, the
weight of the attach� being far too much for her to carry around.

As she hopped on one foot while trying to hold the other at the same time,
Kodachi decided that this was the final straw. She silently vowed she would
streamline the armor the first decent chance she got, the additional
protection of the current version be damned. In the meantime, she would need
to modify the attach� case again, maybe some wheels added to the bottom and
a pull cord...

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daredevil craned his neck back to speak to the new impending menace that was
threatening the city. From the waist upwards, this strange newcomer was an
imposing sight. Midnight blue armor covered his body like a medieval knight
hell-bent on some glorious crusade. The faceplate was not meant to be
intimidating, with its flat surface and plain features, but that unadorned
look was unsettling in some way to those who could see it, perhaps because
it lacked character of any kind. The musculature of the armor wasn't
exaggerated, but still appeared imposing due to its size and obvious
thickness. All things considered, it was an impressive appearance that
belayed a mysterious power and implied this man might be someone to be
reckoned with.

Save for the fact his legs were stilts.

"What's your name again?!" Daredevil shouted upward to the man that, though
standing only fifteen feet away from him on the ground, was also five
stories high.

"The Stilt Man!"

Daredevil cringed. He was afraid that was what the man had said the first
time. "And your powers?!"

"What?!"

"I ASKED YOU WHAT YOUR POWERS ARE!"

"Isn't it obvious?! As you can plainly tell, I am a brilliant inventor whose
unappreciated work in hydraulics, as well as dealing with stupid
pointy-haired bosses and working fifty-five hours a week for inferior pay,
has frustrated me to the point that I have decided to embark on a life of
crime! Using my genius in the field of hydraulics, I devised these massive
legs to enable me to get really tall and... Hold on! I'm getting tired of
shouting!" The Stilt Man's hydraulic legs, which looked pretty much like two
plain, thick metal columns with nothing in the way of feet, retracted
downward so that he was only fifteen feet high instead of the previous
ninety.

"Ah, that's better," Stilt Man said. "My throat was getting dry. I'm going
to have to put a microphone in this thing. I didn't realize I'd have to
shout so much when I'm so much taller than everyone else. Now, where was I?"

Daredevil sighed almost painfully. "You were talking about building those
legs and being tall."

"Right, I built these legs so that I would be a powerful super-villain and
can steal lots of money. Now I'm not just a second story man, but the third,
fourth, and fifth floors as well."

"I... see." Daredevil casually moved five steps to the right, placed his
hands behind his back, and stood still once more. "And the armor you wear?
Lots of built in weapons, I suppose?"

Stilt Man gave a nervous laugh. "Not really. My genius is restricted to the
field of hydraulics. I haven't got the faintest idea of how to build cool
things like sonic guns or heat rays or shooting sticky paste at people. But
the armor does protect me from small arms fire and from the fists of
costumed adventurers."

While his arms were out of sight behind his back, Daredevil flicked his
wrist and a crowbar fell from out of his voluminous robes and into his
hands. He made it appear he was listening with rapt attention while he used
his body and loose outfit to shield the crowbar from view. He softly played
it along the ground until it caught in the opening he had spotted with his
radar sense. "So, what you're telling me is, your sole superpower is the
ability to look stupid on a pair of adjustable stilts."

"I do not look stupid!"

"Did you look in a mirror?"

"Sure. When I first put the armor on. I looked cool. Maybe a little stumpy
with the leg designs, but cool."

"Your stilts weren't extended then, were they?"

"Ah, no, but I couldn't. I mean, it's not like someone's built a two story
full-length mirror or something, right?"

Daredevil could barely refrain from just walking away from the whole thing.
He raged more at the world than the Stilt Man as he began shouting, "Most
super-heroes get cool villains! Like pasty faced guys with wicked senses of
humor and laughing gas that can kill, or enigmatic fellows with an affinity
for clever riddles that the hero has to figure out to prevent the crimes.
Some even get an attractive female thief with a cat motif that feels
helplessly drawn to them even while she's in the middle of fighting them.
That's what I want, but what do I get? Weenie racecar drivers, men in frog
costumes with springs in their feet that have the ability to, get this,
jump, and overweight guys that have bad hair and can glide. An owl is not an
intimidating creature to anything but a mouse, godamnit!"

"How dare you make fun of me and my cool super stilts!" Stilt Man shouted.
"All right, I'll concede my appearance might not be intimidating, but my
abilities can't be beat. You see, by being up here, you can't get me. I'm
out of reach. And even if you could get fifteen feet high, I could go up to
thirty, even seventy feet or higher. You can't touch me. Hahahaha!"

"But with you up there, you can't get to me either," Daredevil pointed out.

Stilt Man's voice took on a sinister bent, at least as sinister as he could
manage with two giant pylons for legs. "That's easy. All I have to do is
step on you with one of these 'stupid' hydraulic legs, which can press ten
tons under optimal conditions. And these conditions are very optimal,
Darepancake." Stilt Man raised his foot and aimed it right at Daredevil's
stationary form, humming 'London Bridge is Falling Down' as it descended
towards his foe.

Daredevil sighed, waiting until the last moment to nimbly leap to the side.
As he jumped, he pulled the crowbar upward and yanked off the manhole cover
he had been standing on like a pop top on a bottle of beer.

Stilt Man had only an instant to allow the horror of what had just happened
wash over him as he watched his right leg disappear down the hole. There was
no time to extend the errant limb to the bottom as his leg fell into the
equivalent of a five foot gopher hole on a man not wearing stilts. His
downward motion was arrested by his body hitting the pavement at the edge of
the hole. Or, to be more specific, his crotch hitting the pavement at the
edge of the hole.

"Needed... more... armor... there," Stilt Man squeaked out as he remained
exactly where he was, tears streaming from his eyes.

Daredevil walked up to his opponent, twirling something that looked like it
was from a UFO catcher machine. "Give up, or do I show you the terrors of my
new weapon, the 'testicular claw'?"

"I give up," Stilt Man said in falsetto as he held his arms up in eager
surrender.

"Thought so." Daredevil tossed the UFO catcher claw aside. And Stick had
told him it was stupid to carry something so useless around. But once you
added a terrifying name made up on the spur of the moment, it became a
device of unimaginable horror. Superheroing was easy. It was like a
courtroom. Half of the fight was won on actual ability, and the other half
was won on delivering a good performance.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wow, this place is something else." Kyosuke Kasuga whistled in awe, as his
eyes took in every piece of fantastic equipment that filled the
cathedral-sized chamber of the secret sub-level of the local branch of
Hydra's headquarters they had been ordered to go to.

"Yes, the cost and impressive array of equipment they have clearly indicates
this terrorist organization should have the resources I require for my
purposes," Hiroshi Karigari told his companion.

It was the first time the two had met. Hiroshi marked Kyosuke as slightly
older than him, somewhere around nineteen while he was a mere seventeen.
Where Kyosuke was only a touch on the geeky side, a bit undersized,
soft-spoken, and not in particularly good shape, Hiroshi fell under the
category of the classic 'nerd'. He was lucky if he weighed one hundred and
twenty pounds soaking wet, wore thick glasses, and, judging by the way his
hand kept going for his chest, had only recently managed to kick the habit
of perpetually wearing a pocket protector. Their new employers frowned on
such things in their agents. Pocket protectors simply weren't intimidating.
And besides, everyone knew all the nerds joined the Advanced Idea Mechanics.
Hydra agents were supposed to be better than that. They were strong. They
were dangerous. They could pick up chicks.

Even as Kyosuke sized Hiroshi up, the older youth did the same. He noted
that Kyosuke was dressed, not in the standard green suit with yellow stripes
that most of the field agents were given, but rather wore a red,
loose-fitting jumpsuit. Attached to the back of the neck of the uniform was
a helmet with a wide visor attached to the front which would effectively
conceal his identity from casual observation. Hiroshi wore a similar outfit,
save that it was green, and he had a simple black mask instead of a visor
attachment. Both uniforms marked them as part of the 'super agent' branch of
Hydra, which everyone just called the 'Super Villain Squad.'

At the moment, they were alone, the room having been emptied for their
upcoming meeting with the Imperial Hydra, the mysterious leader of the
mysterious organization. Hiroshi had heard from others that no one had even
seen the Imperial Hydra face-to-face for years, but he still held the group
in an iron grip. He supposed it was one of the advantages of being the boss
of your own terrorist organization, you could tele-commute whenever you felt
like it.

"So what name do you go by?" Hiroshi asked his companion.

"They had a list of code names. I chose Mentallo. I know it's not great, but
it was better than some of the other choices. You should have seen what some
of those idiots in the promotions section came up with. There were ones like
Headlok, Mind-Wave, Think Tank, and the absolute worst, Brain Guy. I think
Mentallo was the least bad of the choices. It's not too bad." Kyosuke
shrugged.

"You mean you actually got to choose?" There was obvious anger in Hiroshi's
voice.

"Why? What's your name?" Kyosuke missed the signs of an obvious diatribe
coming up.

"The Fixer! Can you believe that? I sound like a cheap television repair
man. It is a totally inappropriate name for field operations. I mean, what's
someone going to do if I go charging in and shouting, 'You'd better give up,
or the Fixer's going to fix you'? Please, they'll think I'm there to neuter
their pets."

"That is pretty lame," Kyosuke agreed.

Having a sympathetic ear, Hiroshi continued, "What really stinks is I had a
really good name picked out: Techno. I mean, it's great. It sounds much more
sophisticated than the 'Fixer.' You just get visions of me with my high-tech
equipment doing all sorts of unpleasant things with a wide array of advanced
weapons to the good guys."

Kyosuke nodded his head. "Have to agree with you there. I'm a lot happier
with Mentallo now than I was before. So you're a high-tech gadget guy?"

"Yep. Inventive genius. I can design and build all sorts of things. Ray
guns, magnetic couplers, anti-gravity flying units, a version of Windows
that runs without getting error messages every hour. Yourself?"

"High level telepath. I can read minds, and attack people with mental
blasts. I have telekinesis as well, but I don't use it much. It gives me a
splitting headache whenever I use it."

"Take Tylenol for that?"

"Yes, but it doesn't really help all that much. Besides, super-villains
can't chug aspirin in the middle of fight. Someone could beat me up while I
was trying to get the goddamn stupid childproof caps off. Usually I just
suffer when I use it and down half a bottle when I get back to base."

"I could rig up a portable dispenser unit so you could take some in the
middle of a fight without it costing you a punch to the gut."

"Would you? That would help a lot."

"Sure. Once I get a few hours, I'll whip it up for you. It would probably be
best to build it into the helmet right next to the extendible helmet
microphone. We'll hook up a tube and when you pull out the microphone, the
dispenser tube will be right next to it. That way no one will even realize
what you're doing."

"That's brilliant."

"I am an genius inventor. I couldn't call myself that if I couldn't handle
the simple stuff." Hiroshi primped himself up as he basked in the accolade.

Kyosuke found himself liking his fellow agent, which he could not say for
most of his other co-workers. Most members of Hydra seemed just a bit on the
psychotic side. Those who weren't outright psychos tended to be either
fanatics, opportunists, or worst of all, lawyers. Even the psychotics didn't
get along with them, which was probably why Hydra's legal branch was easily
the most feared unit in the entire organization.

But Hiroshi was different. Kyosuke almost felt an instant bond form with his
fellow Super Agent. Since whatever tensions that normally came between two
strangers had disappeared almost instantly, Kyosuke decided to ask some
questions of a more personal nature and see if Hiroshi was willing to open
up. "What made you decide to join Hydra anyway? No offense, but you don't
seem to be the usual type who joins."

"I know, I'm not," Hiroshi admitted. "It all goes back to my college days.
There was this girl there named Marie. She was the most beautiful and nicest
girl I had ever met. Once she crashed into me, smashing those oh so perfect
breasts into my face, I fell for her instantly. But I knew she couldn't feel
the same way about me."

"She was a lesbian, wasn't she?" Kyosuke spat with an unusual amount of
venom.

"Ah, no." Hiroshi was caught off-guard by the ferocity of the comment. "She
was, you know, popular. I was just this poor, geeky, skinny, mousy, little
nerd that perpetually went around with a pocket protector. What could she
see in someone like me, whose future probably consisted of getting a job in
the computer industry making a six figure salary, has a stable personality,
and would stay faithful to her and treat her like a queen since she's the
best thing that could possibly happen to a nerd like me and I knew it? No.
She could have had her pick of any of the popular guys who were handsome,
rich, suave, and could have her as a trophy wife while carrying on affairs
with their secretaries behind her back, since they're rich and handsome and
every good-looking golddigger is gunning for them, just waiting for the
moment when he gets tired of his wife and gets a divorce? Why would she
choose me when she could have all that?" Hiroshi's shoulder slumped in
defeat.

Kyosuke said, "You're so right. Good guys like us always finish last, which
is one of the reasons we've become bad guys. So we can finish first and get
back at those who have wronged us. So, you're going to become a
super-villain so that's she'll be hopelessly drawn to you, since we all know
that women secretly want dangerous men deep in their hearts instead of nice
guys like they claim?"

"Ah, no. That's not why I'm doing this. Not at all."

"You're not joining Hydra as some twisted form of revenge on a girl who
rejected you?" Kyosuke sounded disappointed.

"No. I pretty much resigned myself to her remaining beyond my reach. So
instead I made a robot version of her. She's identical in every way, except
her hair color is pink and her breasts are just a touch bigger. Her
personality is a little different, but she's still sweet and caring and
actually likes to talk to me. We even spend quality time doing things
together."

"Actually, it sounds like you're pretty together. I don't know why you'd
want to join an organization like Hydra," Kyosuke said.

"It's because I need a lot of money, and quick. I ran out of it while
building Marie. She runs fine, except for the tiny problem with shielding
for her radioactive core."

"What problem is that?"

"She doesn't have any. She leaks radiation like a Russian nuclear power
plant. I can't spend more than five minutes with her, or I'd be glowing in
the dark."

Kyosuke's eyes widened. "How did you get a radioactive power core, on your
own, before you joined Hydra? Did you steal it from a government facility?"

"No. I got it by scraping off the glow-in-the-dark material on those watches
Greenpeace handed out while they were on campus protesting environmental
degradation."

"I sense a twisted bit of irony there."

"Anyway, since I ran out of cash, building robots is expensive after all, I
had to get some money quick. Becoming a member of an elite terrorist
organization seemed the best way to raise funds fast. I'm not sorry about
it, even if they did give me a tacky name. Now how about you? Why did you
become a member of Hydra?"

Kyosuke began to tremble slightly. "Oh, I have reasons, very good reasons.
It all started in my second year of high-school. I met this," Kyosuke's
voice choked up, rendering him unable to speak.

Hiroshi patted him on the back. "If it's too hard for you...?"

"No. I can do this. I have to do this." Kyosuke took a moment to compose
himself. "Anyway, I had just moved into the district. On the first day
there, I decided to go for a walk. I was just walking down this long flight
of steps when I caught this red hat that had been blowing on the wind. I
looked up, and it turned out it belonged to the most beautiful girl I had
ever seen; it was love at first sight. My heart belonged to her forever in
that moment. Her name was Madoka. I should have told her how I felt, but I
was too awestruck to speak, and I didn't want to scare her off with that
kind of wild talk. We had a brief discussion about the number of steps that
were there, and, after mentally tampering with her mind so she agreed that
the number I counted was correct, she left. I thought I would never see her
again."

"So it's over a woman too, just like me?"

"Yes. Isn't it always about them? Anyway, we did meet again. It was like
Fate, or maybe even Destiny. It turned out she not only attended the same
school as me, but was also in the same class. She had something of a
reputation of being a wild gang girl, but I didn't care. There was something
in those eyes I saw on those steps that day that told a different story than
the one that her trashy reputation had given her. Just one look in those
pools of brown, and I knew there was a good woman worth loving underneath a
rough exterior. It was true love that had touched my heart. I knew this was
the one woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

"It sounds very romantic," Hiroshi agreed.

"And then, there was this incident. It involved this underclassman named
Hikaru. When I was on my way to morning classes, I saw her get in an
argument with this guy who drove her to school on his motorcycle. He didn't
like the way it ended when he left. I found that out when I was going home
at the end of the day. Thoughts of Madoka were plaguing my mind when I saw
Hikaru being accosted by the guy and several of his friends. It was pretty
obvious they were going to do some unsavory things to her, and being the
sort of person that I am, I was going to go down there and defend her
honor."

"Let me guess, after defending her, she became enamored with you, and you
ended up in a sordid love triangle with her and that Madoka girl, who turned
out to be her best friend?"

"If only it could have been something so simple! It was something much, much
worse than that!" Kyosuke wailed. "As I was about to go down there, Madoka
showed up. It was obvious Hikaru knew her, as she called out 'Madoka-sama'
and hid behind her for protection. Madoka stared those guys off for a while
and told them to leave before they got themselves into trouble. She was so
heroic, defending her friend like that and risking bodily harm for her. I
fell in love with her all over again. The guys didn't back off. They
attacked, but Madoka beat the hell out of them way better than I ever could.
I'd say she's at least as tough as a hand-to-hand Hydra combat specialist."

"A beautiful girl who can handle herself in a fight and stands up for those
that can't defend themselves. Sounds like she's a girl worth loving, all
right," Hiroshi agreed.

"But you haven't heard the tragic end to this tale. Anyway, she beat up the
whole lot of them and left them lying unconscious on the ground. Hikaru was
cheering loudly and telling the whole lot of them that they could never
stand-up to her Madoka-sama, and I was inclined to agree. In fact, I was
just about to go down there and congratulate her when it happened. She..."
Kyosuke's voice momentarily choked up.

"Yes?" Hiroshi asked, drawn into this tale of broken hearts and woe.

"She..."

"Yes?"

"She..."

"Damn it, man, tell me!"

"She grabbed Hikaru roughly by her hair, told the guys that was her 'bitch'
and kissed her full on the lips in front of everyone!"

"..."

"The woman I loved with all my heart was a lesbian!" Kyosuke continued on,
failing to note Hiroshi's speechless state. "That's why I joined Hydra. I
want them to boost my mental powers so I can control everyone on Earth. Then
I'm going to wipe out the immoral disease of lesbianism by removing it from
every mind on the planet."

"..."

"I'll get the gay guys too. I don't really care about them, but I wouldn't
want people accusing me of being sexist or anything. But all the lesbians
are going to be made to go straight, so they don't maim the hearts of pure
young men such as myself, and emotionally scar them for the rest of their
lives."

Deciding, "..." was probably not accurately describing events, Hiroshi
managed to say, "That's got to be one of the most tragic stories I've ever
heard. My heart goes out to you." Actually, it was one of the most
pathetically stupid stories Hiroshi had ever heard and his heart was staying
right where it was, but he was damned if he would say that out loud. Kyosuke
was a telepath, and could probably wipe out Hiroshi's mind if he said what
he really thought of someone willing to change his whole life because he
mistakenly hit on a dyke. Hiroshi made a mental note to start wearing some
kind of psionic shielding, just in case Kyosuke decided he was a lesbian
trapped in a man's body or something and tried wiping his brain out.

Their conversation was interrupted by the lights dimming and the main
viewscreen of the chamber suddenly activating. A green masked face dominated
three quarters of the screen, filling it completely. The face gave those in
the chamber the impression of talking to a colossus that could crush them
like fleas if it so chose.

The reaction was instantaneous as both Kyosuke and Hiroshi slipped into
their roles as 'The Fixer' and 'Mentallo.' They threw their helmets on,
stood at attention, raised their hands over their heads, and shouted, "Hail
Hydra! Cut off one head and two more shall grow to take its place!"

"Oh, shut up. I don't have time for that silly rant." The Imperial Hydra
said in a deep baritone as he waved his hand in irritation.

Both youths looked at each other in surprise. Neither had met their supreme
commander before, but that was not the kind of response either had expected.
Most Hydra sub-commanders had a tendency to flog those members who did not
repeat the mantra correctly and enthusiastically.

"Here's what you two are going to do," the Imperial Hydra continued, not
caring in the slightest at their surprise. "During a recent raid on an
A.I.M. base we captured an experimental prototype of a device they were
developing. It's a machine designed to magnify a telepath's abilities
severalfold. It-"

"Joy! Now my plans will at long last become reality," Mentallo gushed.

In response to the interruption, the Imperial Hydra flicked a switch. The
gushing became a sporadic dance of pain as Mentallo found the metal floor
plate under his feet suddenly electrified. He continued hopping from one
foot to the next for several seconds until the power was turned off.

The Imperial Hydra gave a satisfied muttering at the results. A floor panel
slid out to the side and an odd-looking stand rose from its secret recess
from below. Upon the top of the stand was an oversized, red metal helmet;
about three times the size of a normal human head. A series of spiky
electrodes lined its surface, and sparks of electricity occasionally danced
between the electrodes.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen," the Fixer said aloud.

Mentallo jumped away from his companion, anticipating a shock to be
delivered for the comment.

"You are correct," the Imperial Hydra agreed. "A.I.M. has no sense of
aesthetics. It all comes from having a loser with a giant head running their
organization. Now, as I was saying, I want it field tested. Since you're the
strongest telepath we have, actually you're the only one we have, Mentallo,
you will employ the device in the field. The Fixer will function as your
bodyguard, on the off-hand chance something goes wrong."

"I'm not wearing that stupid thing," Mentallo protested. Another series of
shocks was administered to him, resuming the dance. "Hey, OW! that's not
fair! OW! You didn't electroOW! cute him for saying it was stupid. OW!"

"I was agreeing with our illustrious leader's opinion, not protesting a
direct order he gave," the Fixer pointed out.

"Oh, OW! right."

Once again the current was turned off. As the pain subsided, Mentallo
decided to keep his mouth shut from now on. He'd just have his new,
technologically oriented friend redesign the thing so it didn't look quite
so ridiculous, and in the meantime he would mind blank everyone so they
didn't remember they had seen him in it.

Again the Imperial Hydra spoke. "I warn you, there is a limit of twenty
square kilometers on the device, so don't get too excited over it. Still,
that should be enough to cover one ward of the Tokyo district. Your target
will be Nerima."

Mentallo could barely contain his eagerness. "At last, I can begin the
eradication of lesbianism from this entire planet, and it all starts in
Nerima."

"No!" the Imperial Hydra shouted. "This is just a basic field test. I want
you to cause all of them to enter a trance and nothing else. No mental
tampering whatsoever. And make sure that you ease them into it. I don't want
any casualties in the area. Make sure people driving in cars pull over
first, anyone cooking turns their stoves off, and that everyone resolves
such potentially hazardous situations before you put them fully under. I
will be overseeing the operation personally. Should you disobey my orders in
the slightest, your punishment will be severe. Do you understand your
orders?"

"Yes, Sir! Hail Hydra!" the Fixer shouted.

"You're sure I can't tamper with even a single lesbian's mind? I'll be in
and out so quick you won't even realizOW! Hail Hydra! Turn off the shocks!
OW! Hail Hydra! Hail Hydra!"

"Super villains," the Imperial Hydra muttered grumpily. "Give me the good
old days when we were nothing but mercenaries and disenfranchised military
men any time. Now go." The screen went black.

The Fixer and Mentallo looked at each other and sighed. The Fixer said, "It
looks like the game's afoot."

"Yeah. And speaking of feet, do you think you can whip me up a set of
insulated boots? I have this bad feeling I'm going to be putting them to
good use."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

With the last of the vegetables done frying, Kasumi quickly removed the
skillet from the stove. She placed them next to the other vegetables she had
cooked earlier. Dinner was almost ready. Just a little more mixing, and
adding a few spices, and everything would be finished, save the meat, which
needed to cook in the oven for another hour before it was ready. Akane would
be home by then, and the entire family and guests would dine together.

A soft sigh escaped Kasumi's lips. It was only during these quiet moments
alone in the kitchen, a place that was her sole domain, that the eldest
Tendou girl had a chance to think. She had a lot on her mind, most of it
relating to the new boy who had entered the lives of her and her family.
Actually, all of it had to do with Ranma, and what his presence meant.

The date from the other night, the one she and Akane had been forced to go
on thanks to Nabiki's machinations, had been pleasant, if uneventful. The
plan she and Akane had come up with had been executed just as they thought
it would be. Since both girls had been there, Ranma did not even try to put
the moves on either of them, no doubt because he was afraid the other girl
would be offended at the attention. Of course, it was only as they set out
that the worst case scenario occurred to Kasumi: what if Ranma tried to
seduce both of them. Luckily, nothing like that had occurred. Ranma had not
hit on either of them, and had been a perfect gentleman. If anything, he had
seemed awkward at being in both their presences. It was the sort of behavior
she would have expected from an older man, rather than the normally
hormonally driven maniacs younger men tended to be. Ranma's well-mannered
behavior had been a welcome surprise.

The dinner itself had been nice. Kasumi rarely ate out anymore. Apart from
financial concerns, she didn't know that many people that she could dine
with. There were neighbors, but they weren't the sort one took out to
dinner. Most of her high school friends were long gone, now living lives of
their own or continuing their schooling, and Kasumi had fallen out of touch
with them long ago. There wasn't really anyone, outside of her family.
Certainly there were no romantic interests. None at all, or so it seemed.

But then, Ranma's presence was her father's attempted solution to that
little quandary, wasn't it? Of course, that problem could apply to any of
the Tendou girls, but Kasumi's thoughts turned inevitably to herself. Ranma
really wasn't acceptable marriage material. There was no bigger turn off
than a younger man, as far as she was concerned. Except it was sort of
difficult to think of Ranma in those terms, especially after seeing him
dressed in the tuxedo last night. He was a centimeter taller and a good bit
larger than her. The impressive physique he boasted was one she had seen on
very few men, older or otherwise, and helped to mask his true age. He just
didn't appear all that much younger than her, at least physically.

However his attitude was a different matter. There were definite signs of
immaturity there. The sparring sessions with his father told the story.
During those times, taunting and childish behaviors were the norm. There
were occasions when he behaved as though he were younger than fourteen.
Still, there were other times when he didn't. He had acted like a gentleman
on the date. To her knowledge, he had not attempted to hit on Akane or
Nabiki either. Given their mutual attitudes toward their potential husband,
Kasumi was certain she would have seen some reaction on their part. In an
odd way, that made her feel good. Not that she wanted Ranma to make a pass
at her, but if she was the one he tried to get the interest of first, it
would have been sort of reassuring in a way. It would have been a kind of
sign that she was still desirable to members of the opposite sex. No one had
tried to ask her out, or come on to her in any way, since she had graduated
high school. She was beginning to have doubts about her looks, which she
thought were good enough, if a bit average. However, if a boy like Ranma
thought she was more interesting than a cute girl like Akane, or someone as
athletic as Nabiki, it would have been very flattering.

It took Kasumi a moment to realize what direction her thoughts had somehow
turned to. That wasn't good. She had not started thinking of Ranma in that
way, but now she was finding the faintest hint of doubt in her mind. It was
ridiculous. Both Akane and Nabiki were far better suited to marry him than
she was. She had no interest in him in that way. All she had to do was open
Ranma's eyes so he saw things that way too. During the date she had given
several suggestions to Ranma that informed him of what a nice girl Akane was
and that she would be a suitable partner to him. Kasumi had even gone to
'powder her nose' after dropping the hints, hoping nature would take its
course and Ranma would express some interest in Akane while she was gone.
But that had not happened, and both were just as she had left them when she
returned. There had to be something she could do to convince Ranma, some way
of demonstrating to him that Akane or Nabiki were suitable marriage
material.

While Kasumi pondered the matter, her eyes fell upon a medical textbook that
was laying on the shelves, lodged in-between several rarely used cookbooks.
So that was where she had left the book she had borrowed from Tofu several
weeks ago. She had searched for it for days, wondering where it had been
misplaced. Originally, she had been fearful it had been mistakenly thrown
out and she would have to pay to replace it, but then the matter of Ranma
came up and distracted her to the point that she had completely forgotten
about it.

But now it was in front of her, undoubtedly placed there by her father or
Akane in an effort to help with the cleaning. This would be an ideal time to
return it. It would only take a few moments to finish mixing the vegetables.
Then she could go to Dr. Tofu's while the roast cooked and be back just as
it was done.

Grabbing the book and her purse, Kasumi quickly left her home and headed
down the street.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Akane was sitting at the reception desk, finishing some paperwork for Dr.
Tofu. The last of the patients had departed a half hour ago. After cleaning
up, Tofu had sat down and spoke to Akane briefly. He mentioned something
about hoping to put the finishing touches on the apparatus that had been
delivered to him, but was depressed over having to complete some paperwork
that, while simple, was also time-consuming. Eager for any opportunity to
help Dr. Tofu, Akane insisted on completing what she could for him. The
smile he directed towards her was more than enough reward. She'd have
written a copy of the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica for him if it meant
receiving another smile like that.

She was just finishing the last sheet of papers and stapling them together
when Kasumi entered the office. Instantly Akane's joy was dampened. "What
brings you here?"

"I have to return this to Dr. Tofu." Kasumi held the book up for Akane to
see.

"You can just leave it on my desk, and I'll give it to him." Akane was
barely able to conceal her displeasure.

"Oh no. I wouldn't want to trouble you. I'm sure you have more important
things to do."

"I'm done with them."

"Well, it's sweet of you to offer, but since I'm the one who borrowed it,
and was so late in returning it, I'd feel better if I apologized
personally."

Sensing Kasumi would not be turned from her course of action, Akane finally
relented and informed her sister that Tofu was in back. As Kasumi left the
room, Akane got up and retrieved her jacket, schoolbooks, and cane. Exiting
the building, she knew that as good as her mood had been before, now it was
just as dark. A feeling made twice as bad since she had been so happy
before.

Ideally, she had hoped Dr. Tofu would complete his device and show her how
it worked, or at least revealed what it would do. However, with Kasumi
visiting, he would do what he always did when she was around: stumble into
things and babble incoherently. It was a tragedy in the making. Akane knew
the situation he had with Kasumi was terrible, even if it all came from the
basic fact that Tofu obviously liked her oldest sister. But he became a
complete gibbering idiot when she was around. They couldn't have a life
together, not like that. No, it would be far better for all involved if
Kasumi married Ranma. Then Tofu could  get over his disability and turn his
attentions to someone else. Someone who would work side-by-side with him,
complimenting him as both a human being and in his work as a doctor. It made
perfect sense. Now if only she could convince Tofu of those simple truths...

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Looking away from the schematics, Tofu Ono finished connecting the last
circuit board with the final stabilizer. Satisfied the connection would
hold, he did a quick run through. The diagnostic system showed everything
was operational and functioning at one hundred percent efficiency.

And that was it. It was done, the project completed at last. The finished
product was not much to look at, a couple of computers lined two walls of
the private addition he had behind his offices, taking up most of the space.
There was nothing special about their appearance, nothing that would make a
casual observer believe they were anything other than expensive medical
equipment for peering into the corners of human beings where the naked eye
would ultimately fail. A multitude of wires led between the machines, and a
person did have to be careful not to trip over them. Again, all of the wires
were inconspicuous, bearing the same black rubber insulation around them,
making them appear ordinary as well.

The only part of the machine that might have made someone take a second look
was located in the center of the room, which was cleared away so that
nothing was in it. At the edge of the empty area was a pair of identical
metal stands. They stood two meters apart, opposite one another, each bore a
metal and plastic projection near the top, both of them pointing to the
center of the open area of the room. However, their outward appearance told
nothing of what their function truly was.

It had taken two months and every spare moment he had, and this was what he
had to show for it: the reassembled genius of Henry Pym, his dear departed
American friend, and genius it was. The machine, at least in theory, could
irradiate a person with a form of energy, (which Henry had called 'Pym
Particles') which allowed them to access another dimension. The theory held
that, once irradiated, the person could then use the dimension to affect
their very body mass by shunting it to the dimension so they could shrink in
size, or to gain mass so they could become a true giant. It all depended on
what setting the machine was on when the beam struck them. According to the
notes that came with the device, Henry originally stumbled on the effects
when experimenting with it in gas form. During the initial accident, he had
several misadventures with the local ant population that had nearly killed
him. But fascination overcame apprehension, and he continued working on the
theories behind the shrinking until discovering exactly how the gas worked.
He then spent all of his time, money, and energy into converting the
accessibility of Pym Particles into machine form and permanently irradiating
his cells with it, thereby eliminating the need to walk around continuously
with a pack of gas canisters.

There was a curious note in the papers. Henry mentioned that after his
adventures in the anthill, he considered creating a device to control ants
instead of perfecting the machine. However the need to be able to use Pym
Particles reliably had overridden this odd desire. Tofu had to admit it was
for the best. What could one do with an army of ants at his beck and call?
Raid picnics?

There was one problem with the device: namely it was untested. Henry had
only just finished the prototype when an accident killed him. Luckily, he
had the foresight to create a will, leaving all of the equipment to Tofu,
whom he trusted enough to share this important knowledge with. Tofu himself
was no scientist, and probably should have turned the materials and
equipment to those more knowledgeable in science that could more properly
utilize both the machines and theories behind them. He should have, but he
didn't.

Being the only one bearing the knowledge gave Tofu a heady feeling, and
Henry was the one who had sent him the device. Perhaps he knew something
that Tofu didn't, and that it was best that he tested the apparatus and made
certain it worked before unveiling it to the world. Of course, that would
mean purchasing some lab rats and maybe cats and dogs from one of the local
kennels to measure the effects of the rays on living creatures. Months would
have to be spent studying the possible side effects that could result in
death, or something worse, just in case Henry's theories were completely
wrong. Maybe if he was lucky, Tofu could publish a paper on Pym Particles so
people would know what role Henry (and to a lesser degree, himself) had in
the discovery of this amazing scientific achievement that could
revolutionize the world.

Besides, if it worked, Tofu admitted to himself that he wanted to be the
first (technically second) human to receive the abilities the particles
could grant. The idea of being able to control his height appealed to the
doctor in some weird way. It was silly, really, but he had always wanted to
know what it would be like to be tall enough to play basketball. The sport
was a real passion for him, and had he been a foot taller and more
coordinated, he'd have probably tried to live his dream of entering
professional sports instead of medicine. This was a one shot opportunity
fate had graced him with, and there would be no second chances. He wanted to
be able to actually slam-dunk just once in his life.

Tofu was lost in thoughts of running rampant over the likes of Jordan and
Bird when an all too familiar voice said, "Hello, Doctor."

"Ka...Ka... Kasumi." Instantly Tofu's glasses fogged up and his heart raced
until the sound of its trip hammer pace filled his ears. What was it he had
been thinking about? Basketball? Perhaps he should pass one to Betty-chan
and invite Kasumi to try-outs. He bet she could slam too.

Kasumi seemed unmindful of the sudden change that had come over the doctor.
"I've finally returned that book you loaned me several weeks ago." She
smiled and handed him the book

Tofu accepted the tome and turned a gaze of pure adulation  upon it. "Thank
you, Kasumi. You're such a wonderful cook." He then proceeded to rip out a
page and devour it.

"You're so silly." She unleashed a smile that caused a momentary pause in
his eating. Kasumi had to admit, as nice as the doctor tended to be, he was
easily the silliest man she had ever met. He was always acting funny around
her. She could not remember the last time he had said anything serious.
However, one thing he always managed to do was bring a smile to her face. He
had a genuine gift for that.

As she gave Tofu a bemused expression, Kasumi noticed the stands with the
metal projections. She moved to the center of the room to examine the
curious objects, assuming they were some sort of medical equipment. She
vaguely remembered Akane mentioning that he had received some from a friend
in the United States. "What's this?" she asked.

Tofu looked down in his hands. "Page 180." He proceeded to eat it.

Kasumi gave him another smile, and stepped closer to one of the projectors.
It was an interesting device, even if she didn't understand what its purpose
was.

Tofu, his hunger now somewhat abated, wondered if he should ask Kasumi to
play a game of basketball with him, or just stand around and bask in the
glow of her presence. It suddenly occurred to him that the lighting in the
room was dim, and he decided to make things brighter. He adjusted a dial and
hit a button.

A purplish glow formed around the projector Kasumi was staring intently at.
She backed away from it uncertain of what she might have done to set it off.
Turning, she was about to ask the doctor if it was supposed to glow when the
world suddenly turned white and she felt herself smothered in some sort of
tent that had been cut loose and thrown on top of her.

Tofu turned around to ask Kasumi if she would keep score when he became
vaguely aware that she was no longer in the room. Laughing as he mumbled,
"Kasumi," he exited the room, hoping to find her and see if she wanted to
play some hoops. It suddenly occurred to him that he could substitute
Betty-chan's head for the basketball. Betty-chan was always ready to lend a
helping body part to the cause. She was a good personal assistant that way.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kasumi struggled within the confines of the voluminous fabric she found
herself suddenly enmeshed in. She had no idea what happened. One second,
everything was fine. The next thing she knew there was a flash of purple and
then she was trapped in this mysterious material that felt like a mass of
thick woven rope. As she continued to shift through the material, she
realized something else; she was completely naked. For a moment, her
struggles ceased as her hands covered her nude form, then she remembered
that no one that could possibly see her. She paused for a moment to try and
think things through.

This was all very strange. Had she been somehow rendered unconscious by the
light, then stripped and thrown into the material? No. There was no moment
when that could have happened. She had been disoriented by the glow, not
knocked out. Besides, Dr. Tofu had been in the room, and he would never do
something like that. No, there had to be some other explanation. Perhaps the
machine was a device that stripped people of their clothes and put on a
surgical smock to prepare them to be examined, and there had been a
malfunction. It was a stretch, but Kasumi was grasping at any explanation
just as a drowning person would clutch at a life preserver. Something had to
have caused this bizarre situation, but she was uncertain as to what it
could be, so the somewhat weak explanation she had come up with would have
to suffice for the moment.

Kasumi began crying out for help, shouting as loudly as she could, but her
pleas went unheeded. She was not claustrophobic, but everything that was
happening was just too much to handle. Feeling as though this white prison
would hold her forever, she was about to give up hope when she saw a break
in the material. There was a hole in the fabric, and beyond it, daylight.
Hope returning, Kasumi moved as fast as she could, pushing and fighting her
way through every inch of the material, which seemed to fold in on itself as
she moved, allowing her to make little headway. Eventually her persistence
paid off as she forced her way through and crawled out of the hole. She
stood up, basking in the clear flowing air of freedom, unmindful of her
unclothed state.

The first indication she had that things were even worse than she had
imagined was when she stood up and received her first good look at the room
around her. At first, she was convinced she had somehow fallen into a fun
house at some warped carnival, but then she recognized the familiar layout
of the room and the giant-proportioned furniture.

"But I didn't even see any bottles that said, 'Drink Me'," she protested as
visions of Wonderlands danced through her head.

It took a moment for the now diminutive girl to regain her composure.
Panicking would solve nothing. She had to deal with the situation that had
been forced upon her, no matter how strange it was. She just had to 'deal
with it'. In some ways, it was similar to when her mother died. The accident
had happened quickly, and there were no explanations anyone could give as to
why it happened; it just had. This was the along the same lines. Sometimes
things happened and you dealt with them. Back then, handling the situation
meant accepting her mother's death and going on to take over many of her
mother's chores and responsibilities since she was the oldest and her father
was a basketcase. Now it meant being trapped in a world that had been made
inexplicably big, discovering how to become just as big as everything else,
and not get eaten by any giant wandering animals that might mistake her for
their next meal in the process.

A multitude of frenzied questions formed in her mind, and she tried to
figure out answers as best she could with the minuscule amount of
information on hand. Either she had shrunk or the entire room had been
enlarged. In light of the fact it was she who had been bathed in the purple
light, it seemed likely it was the former. How had she been shrunk? She had
been standing in the open area between the two metal things, and the one she
had been examining had glowed purple right before the world shifted before
her eyes. Probably the machine had done it. Had anyone else been shrunk? The
only other person in the room had been Dr. Tofu. She looked around, but saw
no sign of him, either large or small. Had Dr. Tofu shrunk her
intentionally, or had it been an accident? Her mind failed to conceive of
any possible reason that he would do this to her on purpose, unless it was
some sort of joke he was pulling on her, he did tend to be silly. However,
if that was the case, and Kasumi thought it very unlikely, it was not funny
in the slightest. If it was an accident, perhaps he was going to reverse the
process. But why had he left without telling her what had happened? It made
very little sense. The only other explanation that came to her was that the
machine had malfunctioned, and Dr. Tofu mistakenly believed she had been
disintegrated. But even that sounded far-fetched. There were too many
questions and no way to get answers.

A light breeze made Kasumi shiver. The first order of business was to get
some clothes. Now that she thought about it, and had a chance to look at the
giant 'tent' she had been trapped in, the reason for her current state of
undress became obvious. Somehow, she had been shrunk, but was not lucky
enough to have her clothes follow suit. Certainly she could not go about
naked, even as tiny as she was, which she estimated to be no more than a
half centimeter tall. Since it was unlikely Tofu had any dolls lying around,
that meant trying to create some form of clothing from the materials at
hand.

Looking at her former dress, she began to lose hope. There was no way she
could tear the fabric. It was so large now, and she was so tiny and weak. If
she had a pair of scissors, or even a knife, it would have been different,
but with the way things were, the situation appeared hopeless. Despite her
distress, she grabbed the material and gave a prayer that she might rip out
a tiny enough strip to at least cover the important parts. Taking a firm
hold on the material and bracing herself, she used all of her might to try
to tear off a strip of cloth.

The material gave way as easily as tearing a sheet of tissue paper. The lack
of resistance surprised her, and she fell onto her bare bottom with an
audible thump. Rubbing her sore derriere, she looked at the strip of
material in her hands. How very curious. She had been certain it would take
much more strength than she could muster to tear that much material.
Examining the strip of material in hand, Kasumi judged it to be barely
enough to cover her chest and bottom. Hoping it was more than just a fluke,
Kasumi went for a larger piece of cloth. This time it was a little harder
due to the amount of material she was tearing, but it too unexpectedly gave
way to her strength with only a minimum of resistance.

Kasumi looked the new piece of fabric over. It was large enough to serve as
a sort of shift if she wrapped it around her torso. It would end midway over
her thighs, sufficient to keep her from being too exposed, though it would
be a bit drafty until she could secure some underwear.

She began wrapping the piece around her torso, but as she tried to bring it
around her back, she encountered in unexpected obstruction. The material
pushed against something protruding from her back where nothing should be.
Moreover, Kasumi felt whatever the material brushed against as though it was
no different from the skin on her back. Slowly, painfully slowly, the young
woman turned her head to look over her shoulder, nearly paralyzed with fear
of the unknown.

Extending from her back were not one, but two wings. They were clear and
insect-like, and had most definitely not been there before she had been
rendered small. There was a slight look of trepidation on her face as the
wing twitched, and now that she was paying attention to it, she could feel
the wing itself moving as thought it was another limb, a thin gossamer-like
one, but definitely an extension of herself. Despite the fact it was a body
part completely foreign to her sensibilities, it did not feel strange, at
least not in the way it should have. As impossible as it seemed, it felt
natural, as though it had always been a part of her. The fear drifted away
with that realization.

A secret thrill replaced the vacuum left by the fear. "I wonder if I can
fly?" she softly whispered. The thought became reality as the wings started
fluttering at a blurring speed. The pull of gravity on her form lessened.
She became light and the ground seemed to fall away from her feet. Her heart
soared in conjunction with her body as she rose in the air.

No fear remained, despite the fact any rational person would have been
terrified at the idea that they had been shrunk, a pair of wings had
mysteriously grown out of their back, and they were flying under their own
power. But not for Kasumi. It was like a fantasy come true. She had always
dreamed of flying like a bird when she was a small child. She wanted to be
able to go anywhere and do anything, just like birds could do, living life
without any boundaries, even those created by the Earth itself. Briefly she
had entertained notions of becoming a pilot, but then she took her first
plane ride and learned how inelegant and unreal it was. It was more like
riding a train than real flying, and there could be no substitute for the
real thing.

But not this. This was as real as it could get, or perhaps surreal would
have been a more appropriate term. Regaining her original size was
irrelevant when comparing it to the far more enjoyable power of flight that
was now hers to command. Once confident she could stay in the air, she
tested herself by flying in basic patterns, seeing what it felt like to move
back and forth, and up and down without the benefit of matter beneath her
feet. The basics were quickly mastered, and soon her flight changed to
include more elaborate movements. Eventually they became complicated aerial
maneuvers that would have made an acrobat turn green with envy. It was as
natural as walking to her, which should have been impossible. How could a
person instinctively know how to fly? It made no sense, but then nothing in
the situation did. She would just relax and go with the flow.

Thoughts of seeking Tofu were forgotten as Kasumi exited the building by
flying out an open back window and into the wide open world beyond. Air
blasted past her face, and she took a moment to adjust to the changes that a
greater flight speed outdoors could give. Still, she was not afraid.
Everything looked smaller, but then it was supposed to when one was flying.
Being able to look down at the world below, living a life without the
boundaries that pressed in on her at every side, was a sort of freedom she
would bask in and never give up. She swore that as she did a cartwheel in
mid-air, never

Kasumi had made it no more than several meters in her flight to freedom when
a sudden pressure, like a hundred tiny needles, slipped past her skill and
pierced her brain. It was like a headache brought on by eating ice cream too
fast, only several times worse. Still poised in mid-air, she fluttered in
pain, then started to head to the ground as she lost control. However, just
as quickly as the sensation came, it vanished, taking the majority of the
pain with it. Kasumi quickly righted herself and flew a far more
conservative course close to the ground. All that remained of the mysterious
wave of pain was a sort of scratchy feeling inside her head, similar to the
leftover remnants of a hangover several hours old, just a tiny bit of
queasiness that was surely drifting away.

At first, Kasumi was uneasy, wondering if the headache was related to her
transformation. However, there was no further pain, and the skies above
beckoned her with a siren's call. Soon, caution fell away to the euphoria
that only the newly discovered joy of flying could give. Wind whipped
through her auburn hair as she soared high and low, enjoying a perspective
of the world she never imagined existed. Multi-colored rooftops dotted the
landscape from high above, rendering the neighborhood she had spent her
entire life in unrecognizable. Light breezes she had never consciously
registered became useful tools or bothersome impediments. Now she understood
how a bird might feel, always apart from the world of ground that passed by
far below.

It was getting dark, which was something of a relief to her. As small as she
was, it would be difficult, but far from impossible for someone to spot a
small flying girl. Actual identification of her as Kasumi Tendou would be
unlikely due to her size, but why take the chance and set the neighbors'
gossipy tongues wagging from one end of Nerima to the other? The darkness
would be her shield and hide her from prying eyes as she enjoyed herself to
the fullest.

Kasumi noted that the neighborhood seemed unnaturally quiet as she passed by
the windows of the houses of people she knew either personally or by name.
She gave in to the primitive desire of playing voyeur and spared casual
glances in the first and second story windows of those who did not keep
their drapes closed. Some part of her knew this was wrong, but the voice of
caution was drowned out by the newfound liberation flight had bestowed upon
her.

Inside were a variety of scenes. Little Kenta Hiroyoshi, whom Kasumi had
baby-sat for several times, was busy staring at a computer screen with a
wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. That was a bit unusual for him, since he
tended to be an expressive boy, but she had heard that spending too much
time next to a computer screen could do that to a person. The next house
Kasumi drifted towards was the Koriyama residence. Inside her second story
bedroom, Mrs. Koriyama sat staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the mirror
next to the dresser where her make-up lay in front of her, an eyebrow pencil
in hand. Kasumi thought the woman was overreacting. She didn't look that bad
in make up. Not that good either, but not bad. She passed by the Orchiriou
home, where the entire family of five was sitting at the dinner table, all
looking wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the food on their plates before them.
That was unfortunate, if the food was that bad, she'd have to loan Mrs.
Orchiriou some recipes to liven up their meals.

Taking her flight path away from the houses, Kasumi flew over the street,
high enough overhead so that casual passerby's in the street could not
easily see her. She flew low enough to make out individual faces. Standing
still in the middle of the sidewalk was Mr. Ohtono, who had been an old
friend of her father's in the past. He was staring wide-eyed and
slack-jawed...

Now that Kasumi looked around, it seemed everyone in sight was standing
still, wearing the same expression on their faces. Had they all been staring
at the same thing, perhaps it would have made sense, but they were looking
in a variety of directions. Nerima was a bit slow at times, but the idea
that everyone had been rendered comatose by the boredom was too much to
believe. It seemed the unexpected silence covering the neighborhood had
something to do with the inactivity of the residents in its confines.

As Kasumi hovered there, wondering if this had some connection with her
being shrunk, the unnatural stillness was broken by a noise in the distance.
It was a strange mix of humming and tearing gelling together. The noise
crept into Kasumi's awareness as it grew louder. Curious, and evidently the
only one who felt like reacting to the noise, she flew down to street level
in the hopes that whatever was making that sound could provide an
explanation for everyone's behavior.

Instinctively Kasumi flew low, next to the wall of a building, as she
approached the corner where the sound was fast approaching. It would provide
cover for her, even if she did not realize that was why she flew so close to
the ground. She paused only a moment before turning the corner and was
confronted with a most unexpected scene.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



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