The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the
creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko
Takahashi. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi and her
licensees (Shogakukan Inc., Kitty-Fuji TV, Viz
Communications Inc.) No copyright infringement is
intended.
Many thanks to:
D-chan, for encouragement and invaluable time taken from
her own writing to pre-read for me.
Read D-chan's stories at:
http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/
Please sign the guest book and let her know what you think
of the page and her artwork as well. ^_O
And to Jiro Maeda for pre-reading and pointing out some
fundamental errors in my conception of Filipino fighting arts
among other things.
ALSO:
Anand Chelian, for pointing out some problems with my
Akane and Ranma characterization
and
David Johnston, for reminding me NOT to try to write
without my reference books in front of me. ^_*
and a special thanks to:
Garry Kleppe, Prince of the Punctuation Pixies,
and Grandee of the Grammar Gnomes for
taking a LOT of time with my stories.
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Lure the Tiger from the Mountains
************************************************
************************************************
Chapter: 11
Shu shang kai hua
(Deck the tree with bogus blossoms)
Akane listened to the soft even breathing coming
from across the room. Satisfied that Ranko was asleep she
threw back the covers and moved to sit up, biting back a
gasp as spikes of pain shot up and down her leg. Sweat
beaded her face as she inched her bad leg off the side of the
bed. Reaching for her cane she pushed herself to her feet,
pausing to listen to Ranko's breathing. Satisfied, Akane
made her way to the door, pausing to grab her brace, before
quietly slipping out the door.
Onna-Ranma's eyes snapped open as Akane's foot
hit the first stair and the transformed martial-artist stared
into the darkness.
Akane didn't bother with the doujou lights. She
merely waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the
gloom, lit by moonlight and sodium-vapor lamps lining the
streets. Not that she needed even that much light. The
doujou was more her home than the house she'd just left
and she knew and loved every board and stone in it.
After a few preliminary stretches to loosen her
shoulders and waist, Akane took a deep breath, trying to
center herself
Papa and Kasumi didn't understand. Neither did
Nabiki.
_This_ was her home, her world. Reaching down
she tightened her brace and limped over to a wooden-man
set up near the wall.
Out there, beyond the doujou walls, she was Tendou
Souun's crippled daughter.
Gritting her teeth Akane settled into a Mountain
Bear stance, trying to ignore the flickers of pain that
radiated from her knee, like ants pouring from an anthill
that's been kicked over. Even with the brace and the
modification's she'd made in her stance to accommodate
her limitations - - sweat beaded her upper lip - - this wasn't
going to be any fun.
It wasn't about fun, it was about the art. It was
about becoming something more than whispers behind her
back.
*Kasumi-chan, we're going to the movies. Want to
come with us?*
*I'd love to, but I have to take Akane to the clinic
right now.*
Akane's left hand snapped out, grabbed one of the
wooden-man's oak limbs in an Eagle-claw grip, and twisted.
The muscles in her forearm bunched and the ninety-kilo
counter-weight rose from the ground, then fell back with a
thud as she lost her grip.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She'd been doing
grab-and-twist for over seven years, and it still wasn't quite
right. Something about her grip . . .
*I'm not getting it right, Papa.*
*It's just perfect, baby. You make me so proud!*
*It's not. It's not right. How can I learn if you don't
fight me for real?*
Again! Akane's clawed hand hit the rough wood,
grabbed and twisted. The weight lifted slightly, then fell
back with a thud.
Again!
*Hey, Nabiki. Why didn't you buy that blouse. It
looked really good on you. And you could use some new
stuff.
*I'm not a clothes horse like you Kimeko. I like a
more simple, understated look.
Again!
Like a living machine her arm shot out, clawed
fingers struck unfeeling wood with bone bruising force.
*Coach, do I really have to fight that freak!*
Again!
*Shuinko! It's not polite to stare.*
*But mama, look at how funny she walks. And she
uses a stick, just like grandmama.*
Again!
*Kasumi, here's a second notice from the power
company.*
*Oh no! But it's time for Akane's visit to the clinic.
And I've been reading about a new anti-inflammatory drug
that might help her.*
*OK, neesama. Electric lights are overrated
anyway.*
Both hands thudded into the wooden man, left,
right, left; grabbing, twisting . . . failing to completely raise
the weight.
Akane's lips were drawn back from her teeth in an
unconscious snarl, as she focused entirely on her wooden
nemesis. Sweat soaked her gi. It ran into her eyes and
angrily she shook her head, unwilling to take time to wipe
her face. Sweat made her hands slick. Akane made more
and more mistakes.
*A martial artist defends the defenseless* . . .
That's how her father always started his stories . . .
Yamaguchi Gogen fighting the wild tiger, the White-Crane-
Wushu Test-of-Courage, Nai Khanmon Dtom's death fight
with the twelve Burmese Bando fighters . . .
Who had _she_ ever defended?
Outside the doujou, she was Souun Tendou's sick
baby. Kasumi's pitiful sister. Nabiki's burden.
Everyone made such a big fuss because she'd won a
few cheap pieces of tin.
But - - what had she ever _done_!
And now, Papa wanted her to change from being the
crippled daughter, to the crippled wife?
But in here, in the doujou she had her ryuu. She
had----
Fatigue, sweat slick hands, a loss of concentration -
- for whatever reason her strike hit the wooden arm, and
skidded off, a complete miss.
Stunned, Akane stared at the wooden-man for an
instant. A stupid training dummy and she'd missed!
With an inarticulate sob of rage she attacked the
wooden man head on, slamming it's center with a flurry of
short, powerful jabs, that actually rocked the figure on it's
base.
It wasn't enough! She wanted to smash the thing.
Had to smash it, or it would win. Take her ryuu. Take her
doujou. Take her life - - beyond rational thought Akane
slammed the dummy with a Red-Tiger side kick.
There was a crack like a rifle-shot as one of the
supporting braces snapped. The dummy swayed, but didn't
go down.
Akane did, as a bolt of pain shot up her body and the
inside of her head felt like it had exploded. Half blind with
pain Akane grabbed the wooden-man for support.
*The path of the true martial artist is difficult and
fraught with danger* . . . was how Souun ended his stories.
She couldn't let a little pain interrupt her training . . .not and
consider herself heir to the Musabetsu Kakutou
Tendou-ryuu.
The ryuu was all she had.
"Pain is an illusion," Akane whispered to herself,
focusing on her center. Taking slow, deep breaths she began
to shift weight to her bad leg, trying to stand.
Pain! Like a cankerworm burrowing through
hardwood; small at first, but growing. A gnawing, grinding
sensation as tiny bits of inflamed cartilage tore apart like
rotten tissue, leaving a raw wound where bone scraped
against bone, like fingernails across a blackboard.
Akane shifted another fraction to her bad side and
the sudden spike of pain almost made her vomit.
"P . . .pain is . . .an illusion." She gasped, fighting
not to spew the bile gathering in her belly in reaction to the
agony in her leg.
"Bullshit! Pain hurts like hell."
The sudden voice at her ear threw Akane off
balance. Her leg buckled and, for a moment, brief as a flash
of summer lightning, longer than a mountain's sleep, she felt
a clawed hand reach deep inside her leg, past the blood and
bone and cartilage. Deep inside, where she was afraid of
living crippled. Useless. Fear more than pain made her start
to cry out.
"Do you really believe all that Zen crap?" Ranma
asked casually, as he effortlessly caught her in the instant
she began to fall, and carried her outside to sit in the cool
night air.
"W . . .what are you doing here?" Akane gasped,
half fainting from the pain in her leg, and the knowledge of
what she'd almost done to her knee.
"Just thought I drop by and let ya know I'd be gone
for a while."
"Gone?"
Ranma sat down on the steps and Akane bit back a
whimper as the movement jostled her.
"Yeah," Ranma ran his hands down her leg, and it
was a sign of Akane's distress that she didn't protest.
"Ukyou's been hangin' around the doujou so I'm gonna let
him spot me leaving here. He'll chase me an' I'll decoy him
away from Nerima."
"I'll go with you," Akane started to get up, and the
world spun crazily, the court-yard going red, then black as
the moonlight drained away to the sounds of the oceans
roar.
"It's a martial artists duty." is what Akane wanted to say,
but all that came out was a pitiful moan as she seemed to
crumple in on herself.
"I know why Pop likes your family," Ranma sighed,
watching Akane's face turn the colour of rice bran as she
collapsed bonelessly in his arms, "you're all so crazy you
make him look good." When Akane didn't react to his gibe
he began to get worried. He couldn't make a good
impression if she passed out.
"K . . .Kami-sama couldn't make your father look
good." Akane whispered, just as he started to feel for her
pulse.
"Yeah? Well, you Tendou's are doin' a pretty good
job." Ranma closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on
Akane as he ran his right hand down her leg, fingertips
barely brushing the skin. A satisfied expression came over
his face, and he placed his left hand under Akane's knee and
with three fingers of his right began to move the skin around
her knee in small circles.
"What . . ." Akane regained enough strength to try
to fight him, but he caught and held her hands.
"Just gimmie a minute, an' maybe I can do
somethin' to help." Ranma groused, never opening his eyes.
Akane let her hands fall into her lap and Ranma released
her.
"Help?" Akane's bewildered voice trailed off on a
gasp of relief as a cool river seemed to wash over the fire
burning in her knee.
"Me an' Pop didn' have no doctors on th' road, so
we hadda learn to do for ourselves. I picked up a few
tricks."
"Ohhhh . . .that feels so good." Akane's voice took
on a sleepy note that Ranma noted with satisfaction. It
meant she was pulling energy from the rest of her body into
the injured joint. A moment later Akane's eyelids fluttered
and closed.
The darkness hid his smirk of satisfaction, even if
there had been anyone to see. He'd made his first big step in
winning her over. Akane was too stupid and too stubborn
to quit getting into trouble and hurting herself. And
Saotome Ranma had the cure . . .he flexed his hand, being
careful not to awaken the girl in his arms.
Carrying her to her room Ranma plotted out the
next few weeks. With 'Ranko' working on the inside, pretty
soon he'd know more about Akane than the Tendou's did
themselves. Using his magic touch, and her stupid sense of
honor, he'd have Akane tied up in knots in no time.
Ranma tucked her into bed and checked to make
sure "Ranko's" note, explaining her absence, was visible on
the pillow of the fold-away bed. Four weeks, eight tops----
and he'd have Akane trained to come when called. He and
Pops wouldn't have to scam the doujou---- Akane would
give it to them, and probably cry because she didn't have
anything better.
In the meantime, he needed to get Ukyou out of
town.
******
******
*Bastards* Ukyou crouched in the shadows,
watching the Tendou compound. From his vantage points
he could see _almost_ the entire perimeter of the wall. It
was that almost that worried him. If he'd had some help, a
single member of the extended Kuonji clan would have
made this job much easier. He thrust such unproductive
thoughts from his mind. He had no right to help, no right to
the Kuonji name really. All that had been lost when that
damned bastard Genma----a tiny movement caught his eye.
He loosened the giant spatula in it's scabbard and
checked the bandoleer that crossed his chest with the
unconscious familiarity of a lifetime of practice. Jumping
lightly from the rooftop he hurried after his prey.
Ten years - - ten years of searching. Ten years of sweating
blood, aching muscles and broken bones. Ten years of
humiliation, of being outcast, of giving up everything!
Shaking off the nightmare images that often made
dreaming indistinguishable from waking moments he sped
through the night, his lips drawn back in a foam flecked
snarl.
Ten years!
It ended----
******
******
Now!
Ranma leaped into the train car just as it left
Hinagawa station. Glancing unobtrusively over his shoulder
he made sure Ukyou had made it into the next car. It had
been tricky----staying ahead, but not too far ahead, of
Kuonji. He'd been afraid he'd lost him when they changed
trains at Ouokayama, but the maniac was still with him. He
relaxed slightly, reviewing his plans to see if there were any
loopholes.
The cruise ship "Norwegian Wind" was in port,
taking on stores before continuing on to Hong Kong, there
to start her return swing on the "Ring-of-Fire" tour. The
third purser was a friend of his ----or rather, a friend of Chin
Akazara, the half Chinese seaman he'd been when he and
Pop worked their way to the Gulf of Thailand.
Ranma would get off the train when it stopped, but
Chin would board the Windy. Ranma grinned to himself.
He'd let Ukyou get _just_ close enough to see that he'd
disguised himself as Chin before he lost him on board. . .
then, a quick splash of cold water, a dark wig, and he'd
stroll off the boat. Very obviously female and of no interest
to Kuonji Ukyou.
Kuonji couldn't possibly finish searching the
"Windy" before she reached Hong Kong. After that . . .
Ukyou'd have to decided to stick with the ship for the entire
tour, or get off in Hong Kong. And he wouldn't know
whether to look for Saotome Ranma, or Chin Akazara (who
was in Shanghai at the moment and would be surprised to
learn he was sailing on the Norwegian Wind) or someone
else. With luck it would be weeks, maybe months before
Ukyoui gave up and returned to Japan. And before then he
and Pop would have converted the Tendou's assets to hard
cash. They were going to lose it all anyway with that stupid
idea a girl could run a doujou. At least this way, he and Pop
could put the money to good use.
************************************************
Chapter: 12
Jie dao Sha ren
(Kill with a borrowed knife)
"Captain, you should be resting!" The tiny Korean
girl frowned at Akane's knee brace, bulkier than the one she
normally wore. "We can practice without you. Go home!"
Choe shoved Akane toward the door, with all the effect of a
hummingbird trying to alter the course of Jupiter, since
Akane was not only twenty centimeters taller, but had ankle
weights that weighed more than Choe did.
"I'm fine," Akane said, looking at Choe and the rest
of the swimming club, in exasperation. "There's nothing
wrong with me that couldn't be cured with a little discipline
and rest."
"Yeah, a few nights flat on your back under a
specialist." one of the club members muttered, causing a
titter to run throughout the room.
"What did you say, Sachiko-san?" Akane squeaked.
"I said, that if you wear out your iinazuke
'resting'," The slender girl drawled suggestively "me and
some of the girls will be glad to assist." She was delighted
at the slight tinge of pink that crawled up their normally
unflappable Captain's neck.
If you need help, with training or homework, ask
Akane.
If you need to leave early, but have cleanup duty - -
ask Akane.
Whenever there's an dirty, backbreaking, thankless
job, that nobody wants - - you don't even have to ask, she's
probably already doing it.
But, Tendou Akane didn't laugh or joke or gossip
with any of them. Sometimes Sachiko thought Akane didn't
know _how_.
Two years of lectures on'Discipline, Dedication and
Devotion', daily training that would have broken an
Imperial Marine, and stories about warrior nuns (and
monks) who devoted their lives to their 'Art', had given the
team a regional championship and taken them to fifth-place
nationally.
But Akane's single-minded intensity, tremendous
strength and repulsive (to most of them) knee-brace had
led to some ribald locker-room conversations about
Akane's private life and a nick-name taken from a gaijin
science-fiction show.
"Ahhhh . . ." Akane searched for something to say,
then decided that anything she said could only make things
worse. "Let's get started. Follow the posted schedule for
weight training, come to me if there are any problems."
Watching Akane stumble slightly as she turned
away, Sachiko grinned. Payback was _fun_!
"Alright Choe," Akane checked the younger girls
position on the weight bench, deciding to take refuge in
routine. "I want you to do eleven repetitions each: bicep
curl, dual overhead extension, tricep extension and finish
with the bench press."
"I can do more weight than this," Choe protested,
moving the weights experimentally.
"No," Akane disagreed, "Stick with eight kilograms
to start. You want to build slowly to your threshold. And
you don't want to get over bulky," she grinned at the other
girl, "like me." Akane patted her stomach, oblivious to how
the action drew interested eyes to her washboard abs,
clearly outlined under the blue second-skin of her swimsuit.
"Yes Captain." Choe gripped the rubber coated
barbells and started alternating bicep curls.
Looking around, Akane decided the rest of the club
was productively occupied and finally turned to Ranko, who
had been silently trailing her. "Sorry to keep you waiting,
but some of the girls don't do their weight training if I don't
keep after them."
A couple of swimmers, working with a Nautilus
machine, stuck out their tongues at Akane while a Sachiko,
using free weights, went so far as to pull her eye at Akane,
who grinned sheepishly.
Sachiko almost dropped her barbell."Did Akane-
senpai just _smile_!" she hissed to her spotter.
"That's twice, this morning," the other girl
muttered, "maybe they've finally put an emotion-chip in th'
Borg."
Ignorant of the swirl of muted conversation she'd
started, Akane lead Ranko on a tour of the swim-club
facilities.
"That's Okay, I don't mind waiting." Onna-Ranma
looked around, a trifle wary. Ranma had never spent much
time in a regular gym and all the machines and equipment in
clean orderly rows was as alien and fascinating as it would
be to a Martian. "You wanna do a couple of laps?"
Akane looked the other girl up and down with an
eye trained to judge athletes. "Distance or sprint?"
"Whatever you want." Ranko answered, innocently.
"How about ten kilometers?" Akane watched
Ranko's expression carefully.
"Okay by me." The smaller girl answered serenely.
"Then you're better than I am," Akane headed for
the pool area, "because I'm hopeless in the shorter
distances." Standing at the edge of the pool Akane removed
her brace and did a few stretches. "Do you want to call it?"
Ranko stood with her toes hanging over the edge of
the water and rotated slightly at the waist. "That's Okay,"
she glanced at the discarded brace, "I'll give you a head
start."
Akane turned to the petite redhead, a bland almost
sleepy expression on her face. "That's awfully nice of you,"
she grabbed Ranko by the back of the neck and the seat of
her one-piece, "but as a guest, you should go _first_." With
that, Akane hurled the squalling girl half the length of the
pool, launching herself immediately after in a powerful flat
dive that landed her only a fraction behind Ranko, who was
already stroking hard for the other end of the pool.
Ranko lapped Akane in the first kilometer and
settled into a relaxed crawl, knowing she had a comfortable
lead. Halfway into the third kilometer she noticed Akane
coming up slowly behind her and put on a bit of speed,
smirking inwardly as the other girl quickly fell behind. By
kilometer six she wasn't smirking any longer, because the
dratted girl refused to fall any further behind, and was
gaining fractionally.
Ranko put on another burst of speed and gained
half a lap, which lead evaporated before she'd finished
another complete length of the pool, as Akane came close
on her heels. Ranko reached for another burst of speed----
but it wasn't there!
Straining every muscle, Ranko slipped through the
water like an eel, but the distance was too great for her to
maintain that kind of effort and she watched in amazement
as Akane forged past on the next lap. By kilometer eight
Akane had a three lap lead and was fast making up a forth.
*Th' heck with this!* Onna-Ranma thought in
disgust, slightly winded from trying to sprint a marathon.
*She would'na had a chance if I was a guy.* Rolling onto
her back Onna-Ranma stroked to the side of the pool,
turning to watch Akane finish the course - - trying to find
her secret. It didn't take long.
*She's a damn machine!* Onna-Ranma watched
Akane's arms move with piston-like precision, forcing her
steadily if ungracefully through the water.
*Stroke-stroke-kick-* Onna-Ranma counted the
movements, watching ropes of muscle ripple beneath
Akane's skin, *stroke-stroke-kick-stroke-stroke-kick-
breath.* Six times Akane's arms came out of the water,
thrusting back with all the power of her massive shoulders,
augmented by a steady, if slightly unbalanced kick. *She
must have lungs like a damn whale*, Onna-Ranma thought,
eyeing her chest closely as she hit the far wall, flipped and
pushed off strongly on her return lap. Akane wasn't fast, but
she didn't slow down either. Just that tireless, machine-like
movement.
"Why'd you quit?"
Ranko started as Akane's voice broke her reverie
and she saw Akane treading water, looking at her curiously.
Ranko stared back, fascinated at the way Akane's pectoral
muscles flexed and relaxed with each lazy movement of her
arms.
"I said, why'd you quit racing?" Akane asked again,
oblivious to Ranko's fixed stare.
"Huh?" Ranko blinked back to reality. "Oh, I knew
when I was beaten."Ranko gave the other girl a friendly
smile, the one Ranma practiced everyday in a mirror.
*dammit, I could 'a beat her if I was a guy* Ranko watched
Akane cross the pool toward her with two powerful strokes.
*Girls can't do nuthin'* Onna-Ranma thought disgustedly,
frowning at her puny arms and grotesque chest.
"How 'bout a hundred meters, next time."Onna-
Ranma offered, vowing to spend more time training his
female form. He wasn't going to let some girl beat him.
"Only if you give me a ninety meter handicap,"
Akane retorted with a grin.
Ranko gave her a narrow eyed look. "That don't . . .
doesn't seem quite fair, to me."
"Seems more than fair, to _me_."Akane laughed.
Ranko opened her mouth to reply, but a sudden
crash from the exercise room, followed by feminine screams
interrupted her and Ranko came out of the water like a
guided missile, landing lightly on the wet tiles. She turned to
help the other girl out of the pool, only to see Akane place
her hands flat on the lip of the pool and surge out of the
water with one convulsive heave and immediately head
toward the shrill cries.
Ranko made a slight detour to snatch Akane's knee
brace from the tiles, then sprinted after her. The redhead hit
the edge of the door-jamb just in time to see another weight
machine smash into the floor with a tremendous metallic
crash, like an explosion in a boiler factory.
Most of the swimming club, about fifteen girls in
swim-suits and sweats, were being crowded into the corner
by half-again their number of greasy punks in pin-stripped
suits, while a few more of their number amused themselves
by various acts of vandalism.
*Aww, crap* Onna-Ranma thought disgustedly.
*not these little shits again.*
Akane limped forward, ignoring the Sokiaya
wannabe's, until she stood between them and her club
members.
"Is everyone alright?" She glanced over the huddled
group of girls, her lips tightening as she saw blood staining
one girls face and sweat-shirt. "Sachiko, take Choe to the
nurse's office please, it looks like her nose is broken."
Sachiko looked startled for an instant, then
apprehensive as she looked at the solid ring of boys
surrounding them. She took Choe's hand and made a
tentative step forward, only to be blocked by three of the
boys. "You're not takin' this damn Chosen-jin anywhere!"
One of them pushed Choe roughly and the little Korean girl
would have fallen if Ranko hadn't moved quickly to catch
her.
"This area is reserved for the Swimming Club,"
Akane said evenly, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave,
please."
"Please?" A tall, muscular boy, mocked. "Now ain't
that polite." several of his friends sniggered at his mimicry.
"You tell 'em Goro!" One of his friends shouted.
"An' if we leave? How 'bout a nice lil' kiss to say
thank you?" Goro pursed his lips in a grotesque
exaggeration, thrusting his hips forward in a vulgarly
suggestive manner toward Sachiko.
Akane's expression didn't change, but Ranko could
feel her aura surge slightly then subside.
"We're through for the day," Akane said pacifically,
her nostrils flaring infinitesimally. "so everyone shower and
change before the first bell." She looked at Choe, who was
holding the edge of a towel against her bleeding nose. "Go
on to the nurse now. I'll let your teacher know where you
are."
"Nurse?" Goro's lips drew back in a sneer. "She
don't need a nurse, she needs a veterinarian." Choe flushed
miserably as the rest of the boys laughed.
"We don't want any trouble," Akane said in a tone
so neutral that Ranko felt a chill. "so why don't we all just
go to class. I'll clean this up later."
"You don't want no trouble?" A glob of spittle hit
Akane's cheek with an audible sound. "You _got_ trouble!"
Goro sneered.
There was a moment of horrified silence, then
Akane took the edge of a towel and wiped her cheek.
"Everyone run along now, the first bell is about to ring."
She said quietly. "And you go to the nurse, Choe."
"I . . .I'm alright," Choe began a little nervously. "I
don't----"
"You shut your mouth," Goro's aim was improving.
"you dirty Korean!" The blob of mucous hit between
Choe's eyes with a splat.
An arm like an hydraulic piston shot out and steely
fingers closed around Goro's neck, lifting him clear of the
ground.
* Sha Ji Neou Tao* Onna-Ranma noted the finger
placement critically. Strong execution, but no finesse. On
the other hand, there _was_ a certain symmetry in using
'Twist-the-head-to-kill-a-chicken' on a complete arse-hole
like Goro.
"I think you owe Choe-san an apology." Akane said
softly. Goro's knees hit the tiles with an audible crack as his
forehead slammed into the ground at Choe's feet, proving
the adage; 'if you grab them by the throat, their hearts and
minds will follow.'
"Your apology?" There was such an utter lack of
emotion in Akane's voice that three of Goro's adherents
wet themselves.
"Uhhhh . . .you might want to loosen your grip a
bit," Ranko remarked, "I think you're crushing his little
neck."
Goro sucked air in with a great whooping sound as
the vice around his throat eased fractionally. "SORRY
i'msosorry," he babbled frantically," pleaseforgiveme.
I'msorrysosorry.I'm REALLY, really----"
"That's enough." Goro's flood of words stopped as
if they'd been axed. "Now, I think you owe Choe-san for a
new shirt." Goro would have reached for his wallet, if his
body hadn't been numb below the collar bone. Akane
seemed to realized his problem and thoughtfully removed
his wallet for him, along with the pocket, pant-leg and a few
centimeters of skin, all of which parted like rotten tissue as
she simply grabbed a fist-full of tailored Itallian suit and
pulled.
"This should take care of it," Akane plucked a wad
of bills from the wallet, "and I think Goro would like to get
you something nice, to make up for the trouble he's caused
you." Akane gently pressed the money into Choe's hands.
Goro bobbed his head frantically, willing to give
them everything in his wallet, in his bank account, even his
baby-sister's virtue, if that terrible girl would just let him go.
"It would be nice of you to clean up this mess,"
Akane glanced at the rest of the boys, still speaking in a
mild conversational tone, "If you've got time that is?" As
one, the crowd of 'no-longer-so-toughs' stammered their
complete willingness to restore the exercise room to better
than new condition.
"Thank you," Akane let Goro drop from her fingers
and turned to the swim club. "That was first bell. We'd
better hurry if we don't want to be late for class."
******
******
Maybe this girl stuff wasn't too bad, onna-Ranma
thought trotting down the stairs at the end of the day. Guys
just gave Ranko stuff, and she didn't even have to break a
sweat settin' up a scam. And Home Economics class was
like being held prisoner in a restaurant. Yep, there might
actually a positive side to being a weak, silly----
"----INSANE!"
----insane female. Onna-Ranma jerked to a stop as
her fore-brain caught up with reality and the gender-
changed martial artist ducked into an empty class as she
recognized Nabiki's angry tones. A moment later the girl in
question and her younger sister rounded a corner.
"You don't have any faith in me, do you?" Akane
snapped.
"Faith isn't going to keep Kunou from killing you,
you stupid girl!" Nabiki was rapidly losing it. "You haven't
done any serious Kenjutsu in two years, and that bastard
_sleeps_ with a sword."
"We're not using live blades."
"Kunou's not going to hold back and you're not any
less dead because you get your head split with a bokken
rather than cut off with a katana."
"He challenged me," Akane replied heatedly,
"because of what I did to Goro and the rest. It's a matter of
honor!"
"Dammit! This isn't the middle ages and you're not
Miyamoto Musashi."
"I think Kunou sees himself in that role," Akane
murmured. "I've always wanted to be Tomoe Gozen."
"She DIED!" Nabiki screeched, just as they passed
Onna-Ranma's hiding place.
"Don't be so melodramatic," Akane retorted. "Only
her husband and brother died at Awazu. No one knows
when _she_ died. And Kunou's my friend. He's not going
to try to kill me."
"You are _so_ pig-headed," Nabiki's voice faded in
the distance. "you just wait until I get hold of Kasumi. You
might not listen to me . . ."
*Well, damn,* Onna-Ranma stepped from her
hiding place, a hard look on her face. *that idiot's gonna
screw up my meal ticket.* Onna-Ranma fiddled with her
pig-tail in an unconscious mannerism that Genma hadn't
been able to completely eradicate even with years of a rattan
cane. *Now if I were a right-wing arse-hole, where would I
be, right now?*
******
******
It had taken longer than he liked and Ranma had
been afraid that Akane would find Kunou before he did. Or
rather, before Ranko did. Akane, broken or even severely
bent, would spoil his and pop's entire setup. It was much
harder to scam people when they were upset and Akane
bleeding all over the kitchen would probably spoil the
mood.
At first, he'd intended to simply find some hot
water, find Kunou and shove that stick of his so far up his
bung-hole he'd look like a unicorn. But then he remembered
Rule twenty-two, *Never clean up a mess personally. Let
someone else get their hands dirty. Only dogs eat their own
vomit.*
Much better to deal with Kunou by proxy.
Onna-Ranma heard voices and checked the fit of
the blouse she'd snitched from Akane's locker. Akane was
pretty broad in the shoulders, but it still wasn't enough to
allow for Ranko's more 'generous' endowments and the
material was strained so tightly across her chest you could
bounce a fifty yen piece and get change. As long as Ranko
didn't take any deep breaths there shouldn't be any
problem.
*There he is.* Onna-Ranma watched Kunou,
surrounded by his entourage, step onto the fourth floor
landing and she started trotting up the steps toward him.
Just looking at the arrogant Samurai-wannabe reinforced his
initial impression that Kunou was a sneaky, ruthless son-of-
a-bitch who would use any underhanded trick to win.
*Wonder if he's related to Pop?*
Ranko passed Kunou, without giving him a glance,
as he reached the third floor.
Timing was everything.
Tokuyama Hiroshi, Kunou's sub-lieutenant, was
watching a basket full of puppies wrestling under Ranko's
shirt, when the perky little girl smiled at him and took a
deep breath.
Two severely taxed buttons failed with an audible
pop as the sudden release of tension bounced them off
Hiroshi's head. Unencumbered by support garments
Ranko's 'goodies' made a break for freedom, Hiroshi
swallowed his tongue and missed the step, catapulting down
the stairway. He slammed into Kunou's back like a cannon-
ball and the two of them tumbled down the steps to land in
a crumpled heap.
"Senpai! Kunou-senpai!" One of the senior students
ran to the fallen kendoists side. "Someone call a doctor!
Senpai's leg is broken."
*Oopsie.*
Ranko tied the ends of her blouse together beneath
her breasts and walked off, hands in her pockets, whistling
tunelessly.
************************************************
Chapter: 13
Hun shui mo yu
(Fish in troubled waters)
"I'm sorry to hear Ranko is sick," Akane said the
next day. She looked up at Ranma who was doing flips
along the fence-top, "maybe I should fix her something nice
for supper and take it to her."
"Not if you want her to recover." Nabiki muttered,
walking slightly ahead of her baby sister.
"What?" Akane glanced toward Nabiki, "Did you
say something?"
"Ummm . . .that's really nice, Akane" Ranma
answered, "but Ranko doesn't like visitors when she's sick."
"Well . . .what if I make something and _you_ take
it to her?"
"That's it, get someone else to do your dirty work."
"What did you say, Nabiki?" Akane's turned her
head, trying to keep track of both conversations.
"I said, it's probably best not to disturb her." Nabiki
answered, thinking quickly. *Poor Ranma, having to live
with the knowledge he killed his own cousin.* She'd have
to find time to warn him.
"It's going to be a little strange, not seeing Kunou at
school." Akane thought out loud.
"They pinned the leg back together," Nabiki offered,
"and the hospital says he should up and goose-stepping
again shortly."
"Nabiki," Akane frowned at her sister, "Kunou-
senpai's not that bad."
"He's not the little boy you played samurai and
shogun with, he's a vicious right-wing bastard and I'm only
sorry he didn't break his----" she stopped at the hurt look in
Akane's eyes. "Okay, I'm sorry. Maybe he just rubs me the
wrong way." her lips twisted sourly, then relaxed. "He's
probably not so bad." But her eyes said she didn't believe it.
She turned to look over her shoulder at Ranma,
who was doing back flips. "What about your pal Ukyou?
When's he going to be back?"
"He ain't my pal," Ranma retorted, doing a triple
backward somersault dismount to land in front of Nabiki.
"Showoff." Akane muttered, smiling involuntarily as
Ranma grinned cheekily at her, past Nabiki's shoulder. He
was so unselfconsciously cocky, it was hard not to like him,
at least a little bit.
"I ain't sure, but it's probably gonna be a month or
so at least, before he figures out how we sca---- uhhhh . . .
figures out Pop and me never left Japan." He fiddled with
his pigtail, "heck he might never figure it out."
"He was kind of cute," Nabiki observed absently,
"but a little too intense for my taste." She looked around as
they passed through the gates of Furinkan. Seeing Kimiko in
the distance she waved. "This is where I leave you. You
two kids have fun." She winked at Ranma, who had the
grace to blush, and trotted off.
"There's a meeting of class presidents this
morning,"Akane informed Ranma, "to decide where to go
on our next class trip, so I won't see you again until lunch."
She turned toward the library, leaving Ranma alone in the
courtyard. He looked around for a moment, shrugged and
headed for homeroom.
*****
*****
Leaning back against a tree several hours later,
Ranma folded his hands comfortably across his stomach and
sighed. Life was good. The guys weren't as appreciative of
Ranma as they were of Ranko ( thank Kami-sama) but the
girls had more than made up for it, especially in Home
Economics class. He sighed again, thinking about steamed
egg custard with chicken, grilled beef and
noodles, cream----
"You're drooling."
Ranma started out of his day-dream to see Nabiki
standing over him, grinning.
"I thought martial artists were supposed to be
alert?" Nabiki observed, plopping down next to Ranma.
Akane followed suit on his other side, though much more
carefully, sitting with her bad knee flexed at a slight angle.
"I'm alert!" Ranma protested, flushing slightly at
Nabiki's raised eyebrow. "I was jus' meditatin'."
"Yeah?" Nabiki said doubtfully, wiping the side of
his mouth with a tissue. "If you say so."
Akane opened her bento, then paused with her
chopsticks poised above her lunch. "Would you like
something? I've got lots." Ranma turned to face Akane and
missed Nabiki's sudden look of fright.
"I've got asparagus-plum pudding and broiled
pineapple basted with sunflower-seed-carob-Limburger
sauce."
Nabiki was slowly turning an interesting shade of
puce while a stray dog, hoping for a handout, got too close
as the wind suddenly shifted and fled, howling, from the
school grounds.
"Uhhh . . .thanks Akane," Ranma looked wistfully at
the contents of the colourful bento, "but I'm really full.
Home-Ec class," he explained, patting his stomach with a
satisfied look.
*Thank you Kami-sama*, Nabiki thought in heart-
felt relief, making a mental note to burn incense at the
Hiakawa shrine before the weekend.
"Oh . . .well, if you're sure," Akane held Ranma's
eyes for a moment more, just to make sure he wasn't
actually delirious from hunger and on the brink of collapse,
before digging into her lunch.
She was chasing a bit of white-fish pickled in garlic-
marmalade around the bottom of her bento with her last
piece of blueberry-mustard-bread, when a shadow fell over
the group. Akane looked up to see a figure dressed in the
checkered kimono of a Yamabushi. Unlike most of the
fierce warrior-monks, this one wore a beehive straw-hat or
tengai that covered his face, in place of the more traditional
small, round black-cap.
"Excuse me," a masculine voice, low and husky,
came from beneath the tightly woven straw covering, "but
I'm looking for Saotome Ranma." The steel rings topping
his staff jingled merrily as he walked forward. " I was told
that he was eating lunch at this hour."
"Ummm . . ."
"What do you want with him?" Nabiki quickly
interrupted Ranma.
"I would like him to take a message to my father."
"Who's your old man?" Ranma asked without
thinking, half dozing from his heavy meal.
"You are Ranma? Son of Genma?" The monk
turned toward Ranma as he spoke.
"Uh . . .! " Ranma tried to implement 'Rule Six', but
too late. The Monk seemed to feel the hesitation was
admission enough.
"Tell my father that his last command and wish has
been fulfilled."
"Where is your father?" Nabiki asked, feeling uneasy
about the whole situation.
"My father?" The Yami-Bushi produced a flask and
raised it to his mouth, tilting the basket-hat back a little as
he did so. He pulled the flask away and blew a huge cloud
of flame toward Ranma. "In HELL!"
"Aaaaaaaaa!"
A little loggy from his meal, Ranma was slow
getting out of the way.
"Awwww----crapcrapcrapcrap!" Fuming he tore off
his shirt and pants and stomped on the smoldering remains.
"That was my favorite shirt!"
"Nice boxers, Saotome." Nabiki called from behind
a tree.
"What's your problem? I don't even know you!"
Sinking into a Leopard stance, Ranma waited for the
stranger's next move.
"Hi, my name is Akane. What's your name?"
The monk jerked at the unexpected voice and
whirled around to see a school girl, standing with her hand
stuck out, Western style.
"My name is _DEATH_!" His staff spun once and
thirty inches of razor-sharp steel slid from concealment and
locked into place.
Caught completely flat-footed, Akane watched the
slim blade shoot straight for her jugular, before the world
spun crazily and she found herself in the branches of a tree;
waiting for her stomach to catch up.
" . . . 'My name is Akane' . . ." Ranma yelled,
shaking his iinazuke like a rag-doll. "Are you CRAZY!"
"It's always worked before," Akane replied in a
small voice, oblivious to the fact she was now pressed
tightly against his bare chest. "I don't know what
happened."
"Great," Ranma snapped, trying to still his galloping
heart. "That'll look swell, carved on your tombstone. Here
lies Tendou Akane----It always worked before." He could
still see that damned blade about to rip out her throat and
swallowed a sudden surge of bile.
"Are you saying I'm stupid!" Akane pushed away
from Ranma, almost going over backward off the tree.
"Of course not!" A little vein began throbbing in his
forehead. "you're not smart enough to be stupid, you
MORON!"
"Why you----"
"The justice of heaven is slow but sure," the monk
thundered from below, "flee not from the righteous anger of
the gods, but humbly accept chastisement and hope for
redemption!"
"Are you nuts!" Forgetting about Akane, Ranma
stared down at the murderous monk slashing at the tree
trunk in a frenzy. It looked to him like redemption involved
lots of pain and sharp pointy things. "What's your
problem?"
"I am justice," The monk stepped back from the tree
and stared up at the two martial artists from behind the
featureless mask of his tangai. "I am mercy," he linked
hands, fingers writhing in a complicated pattern, like a
basket of snakes, "I am honor," stomping his feet, he started
a heavy rhythmic dance around the base of the tree. "I am
truth."
"What th' hell is he talkin' about?"
"Don't ask me," Akane leaned over the branch,
holding onto Ranma for support, "he's your friend."
"Wait a minute, I ain't never seen this guy before."
"He knew your name. And Uncle Genma's." Akane
pointed out.
"Yeabutt----"
"Justice, for all your crimes, Ranma. For what you
did to me and my family. Justice for you and your evil
father after you. Na mwou san man dwou mu wou nan," the
chant rose from the dancing figure. "E bwou la di. Hae
dwou shi, swou nang nan, da jre twou----"
"Now what's he doin'?"
"How should I ----" Akane grabbed her throat.
"Huh? What's wr----"
Like a serpent, the ancient words of mystery
wrapped around Ranma's throat and began to constrict.
"Chywei Si! Chywei Si! Hung Hung. Ru wa la.
Bwou la ru wa la. Bwou la ru wa la."
The powerful mantra, like an invisible silk garrote,
began to squeeze the life from the two martial artists.
Clawing at the invisible death around her throat, Akane
gouged bloody furrows in her flesh, desperate for air. As
blackness closed in, she could see Ranma in even more
desperate straights, his tongue already black and protruding.
"----SHOU PAN JA!" The monks voice rose in
triumph. "SHOU PAN----"
"Mahaprajnaparamita Hridaya Sutra----" Nabiki's
voice cut over the monk's chanting.
"Na Mwou San Man Dwou Mu Twou Nan----"The
monk shouted.
"The Bodhisttva , free and unrestricted seeing
practices the deep wisdom paramita----" Nabiki countered.
"Swou nang nan," the monk's voice was sounding a
little strained.
"At that time he clearly sees all five skandahs are
empty and is delivered from all distress and suffering."
Nabiki was panting slightly.
"Da Jre Twou. Nan. C . . .Chyw . . .e." The monk
was clearly in trouble and Akane could feel a slight easing
of the invisible cord around her throat as Nabiki continued
her own chant.
"Shariputra, form is no other than emptiness,
emptiness is no other than form . . ." Nabiki put one hand
against the trunk of the tree she was standing beside, for
support.
Half fainting from pain and an unnatural fear that
seemed to ooze from the very air, Akane slipped from the
branch to land with a soft thud on the ground.
"DI . . SH . . .SHAI . . ." Driven to his knees, the
monk was laboring for breath, but Nabiki was down on all
fours. Sweat drenched her body as if she'd just been
swimming.
"Fo . . .form. Form is . . .emptiness . . ." Nabiki
gasped, collapsing in a dead faint.
Taking heart from Nabiki's collapse, the monk
slipped a wafer into his mouth and began chanting with
renewed strength from the esoteric combination of drugs
and herbs. Focusing on Ranma, laying unconscious across
the tree branch he started the final chan
"DI SHAI CHA! SHRA LI YE.
SHO WA Heeeeeee!"
The monk jackknifed with a shriek of pain as Akane
staggered up behind him and compressed the last three
vertebrae of his spine with a foot-ball style kick that lifted
him from the ground.
"Jerk!" She croaked, kicking him in the side of the
head, just for insurance. She caught a movement out of the
corner of her eye and lunged forward just as Rama's limp
body slid from the tree. Akane felt something give in her leg
as she took Ranma's weight and they both went down in a
tangled heap.
"Are you alright?" She wriggled out from under and
turned Ranma over. "Hey?" His head flopped limply, like a
broken doll.
*Oh god----He's not breathing!* Akane felt sick and
her vision greyed out for an instant. *What do I do?
What . . .*
**Check for bleeding.**
Her first-aid-sensei's lecture came flooding back.
*There's no blood. What next? What----*
**Check the airway and pulse.**
*Pulse? Pulse?* Akane panicked again, when she
couldn't find a pulse, then forced herself to calm down.
Taking a deep breath she felt along Ranma's carotid very
carefully, but still couldn't find anything. *No Pulse . . . not
breathing.* Ignoring the pain in her leg she shifted until she
was by his head, tilted it back, pinched his nose closed and
covered Ranma's mouth with hers.
*One . . .Two . . .* With her left hand she felt
Ranma's chest rise as she exhaled.
*One . . .Two . . .* she felt the artery in his neck.
Still nothing!
"Start . . .Starting CPR!" Akane wondered if anyone
heard her panicked call, if there was anyone else nearby who
was trained. She positioned her hands slightly below
Ranma's sternum and began compressions.
"One and Two and Three and Four and Five!"
Shuffling forward she blew two quick breaths into his lungs.
"One and Two and Three and Four and Five!" then
two quick breaths. She checked his pulse. Still nothing.
"One and Two and Three and Four and Five!" She
was forgetting something . . .two quick breaths and back to
compressions.
"One and Two and Three and Four and . . ." Fifteen!
You did 'five' compressions if you had someone else to
breath, otherwise it was 'fifteen and two' "Five and Six and
Seven----" Dimly she sensed people gathered around her
now, but no one was offering to help and she dismissed
them as unimportant. Two breaths and check the pulse.
Noth----a pulse! Thready but----Akane forced a calm breath
and checked again. A pulse . . .but he still wasn't breathing.
*One . . .Two . . .* she was starting to get a little
dizzy, trying to be heart and lungs for another person.
*Breath. Please breath.*
*One . . .Two . . .One . . .Two . . .* Akane felt
Ranma shudder.
*Was he - -?* Akane gave a squeak of surprise as
two strong arms pulled her close, and two lips pressed
against hers, taking her open mouth as an invitation. For an
instant she was taken by surprise. That probably explained
why she didn't try to fight back.
"Does this mean you've changed your mind about
the engagement?" Ranma croaked.
"Aaaaaa!" Akane jumped back so quickly she fell
backwards in the dirt. "You jerk!" She rasped, sounding like
she'd been gargling with sandpaper. "I thought you were
_dead_!" She struggled to her feet, then sank back with a
suppressed groan of pain as her abused leg protested.
"Not . . .not yet," Ranma gingerly touched the
massive bruises around his neck. "What . . ." he looked
around and saw the crumpled figure of the monk. "You?"
He nodded in the direction of the smashed-in side of the
basket-hat covering the monk's head.
"Yeee," she squeaked. Clearing her throat Akane
tried again. "Y . . .yeah. But only after Nabiki----" she
suddenly remembered her sister and twisted to look over
her shoulder to see Nabiki leaning dazedly against a tree.
"Are you Okay?" She grated. "What happened? How did
you learn how to _do_ that?"
"Heh," Nabiki pasted a cocky grin on her face as she
tried to rise to her feet, "Tendou Nabiki, Mistress of the
Mystic Arts . . ." Akane shot her a dirty look and Nabiki
shrugged. "I saw the same thing on 'Bride With White Hair
II'." Akane's jaw dropped and Nabiki chuckled weakly,
sinking back to the ground. "I told you, you should watch
'Samurai Night Fever' with me. TV is very educational."
Her eyelids drooped, tiredly. "I'm gonna take a li'l nap,
now." Nabiki's head fell forward while a soft buzzing sound
passed her lips.
"She beat that guy with stuff from a _movie_?"
Ranma hacked, trying to talk past the barbed wire lining his
throat.
"Only Nabiki." Akane sighed. "What are we going
to do about him?" She jerked her head toward the monk,
only to find he had staggered to his feet and was limping
away. "Hey you!" she croaked , sounding like a frog with a
sore throat. "Wait----"
The monk pulled off his rosary and, shouting a word
of power, hurtled it at her. Akane's knee gave way as she
tried to scramble clear and the hissing burning thing would
have hit her if Ranma hadn't grabbed her and rolled behind a
pine as it exploded.
"Tell me," Akane gasped, as ribbons of fire shot up
her leg, "do you know anyone who _doesn't_ want to kill
you?"
************************************************
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