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.
You may read his stories at:
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/jiro-maeda/index.html
ALSO:
Don Granberry, for continuing to wade through my
sometimes incomprehensible prose. I apologize for not
making a detailed reply to his C&C, but I've been trying to
implement fixes based on his suggestions and until those 30
hour days I ordered get here, I keep running out of time
before I get everything done. ^_^
Garry Kleppe, Prince of the Punctuation Pixies,
and Grandee of the Grammar Gnomes for
taking still more time with my stories.
And T.H. Tiger, for enjoying my story, and coming up with
some nifty ideas I wish I'd thought of. Perhaps in my next
story. *_O
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Lure the Tiger from the Mountains
************************************************
************************************************
Chapter: 17
Wei wei jiu zhao
(Besiege Wei to save Zhao)
"Do you understand what you are to do?"
The six men looked at one another, then at their
leader who nodded and turned to their employer. "We
understand. It will be done as you command."
Their employer eyed them with carefully hidden
distaste. Looking at their filthy pinched faces, and hungry
feral eyes, he could see that they had all the compassion of
Nazi camp guards and the instincts of sharks in a feeding
frenzy. Best of all, they didn't like the Japanese. But,
working with such people carried certain risks.
Descendants of North Korean laborers left in Japan
after the final bits of the Japanese Empire were broken up,
they were stateless people. Unable to obtain Japanese
citizenship, unwelcome in North Korea, distrusted by the
South, they and others like them lived a shadowy non-
existence on the fringe of Japanese society. Doing jobs the
Japanese did not or would not do, they were 'invisible men'
that even the burakumin underclass looked down upon.
Checking his watch, he made a phone call, waiting
patiently as the phone rang one full minute without an
answer. Satisfied no one was home, he returned the phone
to his pocket.
*****
Panting slightly Kasumi put down her groceries and
grabbed the phone.
"Moshimoshi? Is anyone there?" There was only the
buzz of a disconnected line. Shrugging, she started putting
away the groceries.
Renting a hotel room had done wonders for her
studies. But it had been lonely as well. She missed her
sisters, and father. This morning she'd even found herself
missing Kodachi and her bad poetry. When _that_
happened, she realized it was time to come home, even if it
was a few days early.
Nabiki and Akane had been so good about doing
her chores while she was studying Kasumi had decided to
make them a special dinner and picked up some things on
the way home.
Could it have been father, she wondered, pouring oil
and seasoning into a pan and starting water boiling. He
quite often would go off to visit friends or just to be by
himself, especially each year on the anniversary of-----
especially when under stress.
There _was_ a place from years ago, Tendou
Souun's final refuge from the pain of the world.
Kasumi hadn't said anything to Akane of course,
but she knew Nabiki shared her fear. At the hotel, she'd
picked up the phone seven times, and seven times put it
down, unable to make the call. Not knowing was bad, but
knowing might be even worse. If she called the bar - - if they told
her Souun was drinking again - - Kasumi dashed angry tears
from her eyes, surprised by sudden memories she'd thought
safely buried.
She looked at what she'd bought. She could make
eel. Grilled perhaps? No, better to make yanagawa-nabe.
Kasumi had burdock root and eggs for the mild eel-
casserole that was one of Nabiki's favorites. Her middle
sister had that in common with their father, the thought
came unbidden.
And she'd grill some white-fish for Akane, and make
sure there was plenty of wasabi. She nibbled on her lower
lip for a moment, thinking about their guest. She wasn't
sure what Ranko liked, but the young girl seemed happy
with whatever Kasumi fixed. She even liked Nabiki's
cooking. And Akane's, which might just indicate how
desperately lonely she was.
Poor little thing. No mother and father gone on
business all the time. Kasumi felt a pang of sympathy,
knowing exactly how she must feel.
She'd fix a nice sweet for Ranko, mashed sweet-
potato with chestnuts or maybe pancakes with sweet-bean
filling? Humming to herself she started pulling bowls and
pans from the cabinets.
*****
*****
Performing a last minute check to make sure his men
were in position the leader glanced at his employer, then
gave the signal. Silently, with the expertise of long
experience the 'invisible men' slipped over the wall and
flowed across the ground into the house. Their orders were
specific. The entire operation should take less than half of
an hour.
*****
*****
"Boyfriend?" Nabiki glanced sideways at Ranko as
she and Akane walked home after school. The wind was
swirling cherry blossoms across the road and Nabiki idly
watched the patterns they made. She hadn't seen any
'funny' stuff between Akane and Ranko while in school,
maybe she'd been over-reacting that morning. "Ukyou
threw me down in a ditch, tore my blouse and bruised me all
over. Does that sound like a boyfriend?"
"Sounds like love to me." Ranko grinned.
"Huh . . .then what's left for marriage. A pine-box
and a hearse?"
"I don't think he's right for you." Akane put in
suddenly. "You're too young to be dating, anyway."
Nabiki stifled a laugh. "Well, thank you
grandmother-Akane. Any other words of wisdom?"
"What do you know about his family?" Akane asked
seriously. "Where is he from? What are his hobbies? Do you
even know his blood type?"
She couldn't help it. Dropping her bag Nabiki bent
over, gasping with laughter.
"I'm glad you think it's funny," Akane groused,
hands fisted on her hips. "but you've got to think about
these things before you get into a relationship."
"Oh . . .oh . . .I can't stand it," Nabiki whooped with
laughter. "You've never even held hands with a boy----"
"I have _too_," Akane corrected this base calumny
indignantly. "Kashitzu, at the Nerima semi-finals!"
"And you broke three of his fingers." Nabiki
countered.
"He fell wrong", Akane excused, "Anyway, I was
holding his hand, so it counts." she insisted stubbornly.
"And we're not talking about me. I'm concerned about
you." Akane ended virtuously.
"Ukyou's not my boyfriend," Nabiki repeated, trying
to relieve Akane's fears.
"But, Ranko said-----"
"It was just a joke," Nabiki answered and Ranko
nodded agreement.
Akane only looked bewildered and Nabiki sighed,
picking up her book bag and leading the way home. Akane
had the social awareness of a gladiola. Less, since flowers
were pollinated at least once a year. Akane laughed at
something Ranko said and Nabiki watched them carefully
from the corner of her eye.
They looked . . .right, together. They weren't even
touching, but there was an intimacy . . .
Nabiki felt a surge of something and realized it was
jealousy. There was always a little reserve, a hidden spot
that Akane didn't let anyone touch, not even her family.
And now this stranger! Nabiki hadn't seen Akane so open
since . . . since Thailand. She was briefly amazed she felt
only a twinge at the memory.
A cold breeze seemed to flow past as Nabiki had a
sudden epiphany. Kasumi was head of house in all but
name and she had her studies, friends. Nabiki had friends,
clubs, her own little business empire . . .
What did Akane have? She was captain of the
swimming club, class president. Her grades were always
good.
When was the last time Akane had friends over?
Nabiki thought back over the past several weeks,
months, then - - a year! It had been almost a year since
Akane brought some friends home from school. They hadn't
stayed long, and they'd never come back.
Could Akane be lonely? She would have said
something, wouldn't she? Nabiki and Kasumi always looked
out for her. Her grades were good, she was class president.
Captain of the swimming club.
Just because Akane didn't bring friends home, that
didn't mean anything. She could be going to their house in
her free time. When she wasn't doing chores. Or school
work, or club activities. Or training-----in the doujou before
anyone else was awake, training after school, until the early
morning hours.
Her grades were good, she was class president.
Captain of the swimming club. She had to know lots of
people.
Who knew Akane?
Her grades were good, she was class president.
Captain of the swimming club. She did her chores,
volunteered to help around the neighborhood.
Who helped Akane?
Her grades were good, she was class president.
Captain of the swimming club.
No, Nabiki shook herself. This was silly. Surely she
would have noticed something. Or Kasumi. She watched
Ranko say something to Akane and Akane shake a fist in
mock-threat.
*What do you know about him? Who is his family?*
She'd thought it was hilarious when Akane asked it,
but now it didn't seem so funny. What did they really know
about Ranko, other than what she'd told them. What did
they know about Ranma and Genma, for that matter.
An old friend of father's? Nabiki's stomach cramped
at the thought.
It had seemed kind of silly at the time. An arranged
marriage was something out of a bad samurai movie, not
anything to take seriously.
Nabiki suddenly realized what it would mean if her
baby sister got married, and it left her with a cold feeling in
the pit of her stomach. Marriage - -the marriage _bed_ !
Oh hell no! Not her baby sister. Maybe when she
was older, say forty, but not now. Akane was much too
young. For boys or-----Nabiki listened to Ranko laugh again
and cringed, recalling her teasing remarks of the day before.
Surely Ranko hadn't taken her seriously? Nabiki
needed to talk things over with Kasumi, even if she had to
interrupt her studies. She'd call her sister at the hotel once
they got home.
The wind blew Ranko's long hair around and Nabiki
watched Akane brush it out of the other girl's face, in a
gesture that was almost painfully intimate because it was
completely unconscious.
Fifty. Or maybe sixty. Sixty was a good age.
Mature, stable, sensible. Akane could start dating when she
was sixty. In the meantime, she would enjoy living in a
Cloister. In Tibet.
*****
*****
They arrived home, and were just outside of the
gate, when a piercing scream blasted through the tangle of
Nabiki's thoughts.
"What was that?" Ranko's head snapped around,
body quivering with suppressed tension.
"Nobody's home, unless father's back," Nabiki
answered, standing stock still. "but that sounded like a
woman and Kasumi's not supposed to be back for another
three days."
"Oneesama!" Akane hit the gate like a runaway
freight train and rumbled into the house, without stopping
to open the door.
*Cripes.* Ranko thought, as the gate bounced off
the wall and hung skewed on a broken hinge. Sprinting
hard, she was only a couple of steps behind, and bitterly
aware of the damage Akane was doing to her knee and hip.
After all the work she'd done on it, Ranko felt a certain
sense of ownership.
Akane, Ranko and, several paces in the rear and
badly winded, Nabiki skidded to a halt, just outside the
kitchen. The house looked like a war zone. Floorboards had
been ripped up, wall panels knocked out and the televison
lay dying in a hissing, sparking tangle of electronic entrails.
Worst of all was the crowd of filthy ragged
intruders, like rats who had learned to walk on two legs,
crowded into the kitchen, surrounding and pressing against
two taller figures. The tallest was unfamiliar, swathed in
dark concealing robes. The other----
"NEESAMA!" With a scream like a castrated
buffalo Akane plowed through the rat-people, scattering
them like pebbles and slammed into the robed figure who
was holding Kasumi.
*No finesse* Ranko sighed, instantly moving to
back her up. Ranma wasn't about to let some bunch of
street thugs queer his scam. This was _his_ doujou! At least
it would be if nothing happened to it or the Tendou sisters
before Ranma could consummate the deal.
Using a variation of 'Drunken-Monkey-Steals-an-
Apple' Ranko 'accidentally' knocked Nabiki clear of the
action, then turned to the ragged men blocking her path to
Akane. If they were just good, she could take them out with
'Drunken-Monkey' style and not blow her cover. If they
were better than good? Ranko had to think about that for a
moment.
There a couple of spare Tendous, so Ranma
supposed he could afford to lose one. 'Course, he didn't
want to wait around until the end of a mourning period
before gettin' married, gettin' the doujou and heading back
to China. And, he _had_ put in a lot of time, as both Ranma
and Ranko, getting Akane trained. It really made more
sense to take care of Akane. It was just good business.
Sighing, Ranko moved to face the thugs-----wishing
she were male right now. Then Ranma could really score
some points playing the hero-----only the thugs weren't
there to face, anymore. Like a morning mist, or more like a
covey of startled quail, they vanished. Spinning quickly to
cover her six, Ranko discovered she was alone in the
room, except for Nabiki, Kasumi, Akane and-----
"BASTARD!" Akane growled.
-----the new guy.
Akane drove a short jab to her opponents heart and
her fist crunched against something hard under his robes.
Her fist was harder.
Akane knew she was slow. When she managed to hit
someone, she wanted it to count. Smashing an iron plate
ten-thousand times in the morning and again at night made
sure that when she connected, it counted.
Her opponent was no weakling though and
blindingly fast. He twisted with her blow to rob it of power
and countered with a Cobra-Fang strike that should have
shattered Akane's fore-arm like cheap pottery.
Instead his strike bounced, as if he'd hit an iron pipe,
and he cried out in pain. During his instant of confusion
Akane grabbed him by the throat with her left hand and
began punching with her right, each blow ringing like a
hammer on an anvil.
Ranko watched Akane, a sour look on her face, then
shrugged fatalistically. Akane was too linear in her attacks,
and that was going to be her downfall one day.
That day was now, as her opponents hands darted
inside his robes and came out with two scythes attached to
chains.
"AKANE!" Kasumi saw it first, and lunged to
protect her sister. The robed figure twisted in Akane's grip,
reacting to the perceived threat, and Kasumi crumpled,
bleeding from the temple.
Akane had merely been mildly aggravated before.
Her opponent realized the difference when she tore his
weapons from his body, hardened steel links parting like
soft aluminum, forged steel shafts crumpling like tinfoil.
There was madness in her eyes and death in her hands as
Akane reached for him and he suddenly decided he had
business elsewhere.
A slashing blow across Akane's eyes broke her
concentration, a swirl of robes made Akane think he was
moving left, when he was actually going right and he was
free.
Almost.
For a one-legged girl, Akane moved incredibly fast,
her good leg launching her like a missile at her foe.
If the robed figure had made even a slight zig-zag,
Akane's leap would have missed, and she would never have
been able to catch him in the open.
But he didn't, and she did.
He was actually out of the kitchen door when
Akane hit him like a striking panther. She jerked him back
into the room and the blows she landed were jack-hammer
hard. If Akane had only a fraction of self control, she'd have
ripped his head from his spine and been done with it, instead
of continuing to try to smashing through his armor and
crush his chest.
"Stop her!" Nabiki cried from where she cradled
Kasumi's head in her lap. "She'll kill him."
*Stop her?* From where Ranko stood, it looked like
Akane was doin' pretty good. Her heart had almost stopped
when she'd seen those damn knives and she cursed herself
for being caught out of position. Knowing she going to be
too late to stop the intruder, Ranko had started a killing
move, anyway. It would have pulped the intruders spine like
a bunch of grapes, when Kasumi had jumped in front of
Ranko, in her attempt to protect Akane. Looking at the
eldest Tendou's bloody scalp, she only sorry Akane wasn't
going to leave anything for her.
"No," Kasumi roused feebly from where she lay.
"Don't let her . . .please . . ."
Akane looked like she was having fun, and Ranko
didn't see any sense in stopping her from pounding the son-
of-a-bitch like a bowl of rice, but . . .Kasumi's eyes begged
her to do something.
*Oh hell," Ranko thought in disgust. *Pop would
sure get a laugh outta this* There was no percentage in
getting involved now - - except the look in Kasumi's eyes.
*I ain't even gonna get kissed!* These dammed Tendou's
were like an itch he couldn't scratch.
"Okay, Akane-chan, that's enough." Ranko put a
hand on her shoulder and Akane growled at him like a wild
animal. She could _feel_ it down in her bones.
*Uh oh.* Moving so she could see Akane's face,
Ranko rocked back in shock. Foam flecked Akane's lips,
which were drawn back from her teeth in a death's-head
snarl, and her eyes were filled with blood.
*Whooops!*
With every blow the robed figure jerked and
flopped like a rag-doll and it wouldn't be much longer
before Akane punched through whatever armor this guy
was wearing under his robes. Ranko thought about her
_own_ little problem and what sometimes brought her out
of the madness, and decided to take a chance. She only
hoped to hell it worked - - or she was fast enough to get
out of the way if it didn't.
Trying not to think about how stupid she was being
Ranko threw herself at Akane, knocking the other girl clear
of the idiot-in-robes, wrapping around Akane like a living
straightjacket.
It was like riding an earthquake. One that screamed
as it tried to batter you to death. Slamming into furniture
and walls, watching floor and ceiling swap places, Ranko
made a mental vow to _never_, under any circumstances,
grapple with Akane again.
At least not in a fair fight.
As her head slammed into the wall for the fourth, or
was it sixth time, Ranko sent a brief prayer for help to the
Christian god, adding Allah, Buddha, Vishnu and a couple
of obscure Micronesian deities to the mix for added
insurance.
Feeling ribs begin to separate Onna-Ranma swore
to burn incense at the Itsukushima warrior's shrine for the
next twenty years if the kami would just get him out of this
alive and reasonably intact.
Despite the beating, Onna-Ranma held on,
maintaining an endless stream of nonsense sounds used to
sooth a frightened child or a wounded animal. With
shocking abruptness, the storm died and there was only
silence.
"R . . .Ranko?"
*who?* Onna-Ranma wondered, watching the
pretty flashing lights.
"A . . .Are you alright, Ranko?"
*Who th' hell is . . .oh yeah, _I'm_ Ranko.* If only
the rooms would stop spinning. Why would someone build
a house on a roller-coaster, anyway?
"I'm fine," Ranko lied, in a hoarse whisper. "How're
you doin'."
"Okay." Akane rasped in a small voice.
With a groan Ranko unclenched cramped muscles,
giving thanks for the extra padding of her female form, and
creakily got to her feet. She hurt in places she was pretty
sure hadn't _been_ places a few minutes ago. Reaching to
help Akane up, Ranko was shocked to see tears streaking
her face.
"I . . .I did it again, didn't I?" Akane whispered, eyes
dark with some unnameable emotion.
"It's Okay, sis," Nabiki assured her shakily, "see,
Kasumi is fine. I'm fine. Even ----LOOK OUT!"
Incredibly the robed figure had gotten to his feet.
Even as he reached inside his robes, Akane threw Ranko to
safety and launched herself at him. But her berserker rage
had drained her and without it, Akane was too slow to stop
him. She was just fast enough to block his attack, catching
the glass balls he threw on her forearms. They exploded in a
cloud of dust and Akane's scream of agony covered his
escape.
*Amazons!* Something about the figure's
movements brought an instant's shocked recognition to
Ranko. That meant-----
"DON'T BREATHE!" Covering her face with one
arm Ranko yanked Akane out of the cloud, dragged her to
the sink and ripped off her clothes, being careful not to
touch any of the tiny spines embedded in Akane's clothing
and skin with her bare hands. "Hot water, quick!"
"What?" Kasumi gasped, bewildered.
"Crap! Call an ambulance!" Ranko yanked a pot off
the stove and poured the steaming water over the screaming
girl. "Dammit----MOVE!" Ranko yelled. "Tell them it's
Stone-Fish poison."
****
******
"That was quick thinking, young lady," Dr. Chou
addressed Ranko in the waiting room. "You saved her from
a very bad time by neutralizing a lot of the stonefish toxin
before it entered her body."
"Uhhh, glad I could help." Ranko muttered. At the
time, only Akane's screams had mattered. Only now did it
occur to her that if Ranko had gotten splashed by the hot
water, _Ranma_ would have had a lot of explaining to do.
"How is she doctor?" Kasumi asked, having a
horribly clear idea of what the cloud of poisoned nettles
could have done to her baby sister. "Her eyes?"
"There is some involvement." Kasumi whitened at
the doctors bland statement, "But, her hands and arms took
the worst of it," Chou patted Kasumi on the shoulder. "and
our chief of ophthalmology thinks there's no permanent
damage."
"Her hands! "Nabiki exclaimed jerkily. "Will she . .
.I mean will there be any problems?" She was worried sick.
If anything happened to Akane's hands. If she were
crippled----she didn't know how Akane would handle that.
"Stone-Fish toxin causes a great deal of pain, but we
got anti-venom into your sister very quickly.
Unfortunately, there were other toxins mixed in as well,"
The doctor, grimly furious with vivid memories of treating
victims of the Doomsday Cult, had whipped the Tokyo
police into a frenzy to catch a dangerous lunatic, "and those
are still causing some problems."
"P . . .problems?" Nabiki felt the room start to spin.
"But, she's going to be Okay? I mean you can give her a
shot or a pill or something?"
"Oh, yes." The doctor assured in the breezy manner
of someone who'd never been seriously ill. "She has an
excellent constitution and there is every reason to believe
she will make a complete recovery. Unless there are
complications." He cautioned, whipsawing Nabiki's
emotions to the point she felt ill.
"But that ain't likely, is it doc?" Ranko interjected
quickly, starting to get worried by Nabiki's lack of colour.
"Akane can come home today, right?"
"Not quite that soon. We want to observe her for a
few days, but there is every reason to be optimistic. The
pain should subside relatively quickly, but she's going to
itch very badly for several weeks, I'm afraid. And she's not
going to be able to use her hands at all until the swelling
goes down and the outer layer of skin grows back----"
Nabiki had steadily grown paler as the doctors list
grew. Kasumi even paler, if that were possible.
"We've covered her eyes to protect them while they
heal. And you've got to keep her from scratching the
affected areas or there's risk of scarring or infection." As he
talked the doctor gave them a list of instructions and several
prescriptions to be filled.
************************************************
Chapter: 18
Jin chan tuo qiao
(Slough off the Cicada's shell)
"Ummm . . .it's none of my business," Ranko took a
sip of tea, "but, what exactly happened. With Akane, I
mean." The girl in question had been left under sedation at
the hospital and now Ranko and the two eldest
Tendou sisters were sitting around the kitchen table.
"Who were those guys, Kasumi? What did they
want?" Nabiki demanded.
"I don't know," Kasumi replied a little shakily,
gripping the mug of tea for warmth. "I was starting dinner
when I heard noises in the other room. I thought it was
Akane at first-----you know how enthusiastic she gets
sometimes," Nabiki nodded and Kasumi continued. "Then
these funny looking men came in the kitchen and----- "
"Kami-sama!" Nabiki sat bolt upright, spilling some
of her tea. "I forgot," She moved to her sister, running her
hands over her, "are you alright? Should we call the doctor?
Are . . . did they . . .did they _hurt_ you?"
"Hurt?" Kasumi raised a hand to the bandage that
covered the right side of her head. "No, I'm fine,"
"Not that, the scream." Ranko explained and Nabiki
nodded vigorously.
"You can tell us, 'neesama."
"Oh," Kasumi looked down embarrassed. "That
wasn't me."
"Wasn't? Then, who?"
"Well, I was heating oil to cook the eel - - oh, I had
such a lovely dinner planned." Kasumi frowned slightly.
"We'll get take-out," Nabiki dismissed dinner. "The
scream?" she prompted.
"Oh, well, I had the pot of boiling oil in my hand . . .
and he startled me!" Kasumi blushed daintily. "I'm afraid I
spilled it on a . . .a rather delicate region."
"Oh man," Ranko guffawed, "I'd scream too - -
ummm I mean I can imagine he would scream," Ranko
covered hastily as the two sisters looked at her strangely.
"Errrrr . . . what happened with Akane," Ranko
repeated her original question, hopping to distract the
sisters from his slip while trying to force herself back into
character. "She looked very . . .strange."
"Strange?" Nabiki said blandly. "I don't know what
you mean. Did you see anything strange, sis?"
"N . . .no, not a thing."
Ranko closed her eyes for a moment, then looked
directly at the two sisters. "Thank you for the tea." She
made as if to leave. "If anything 'strange' does happen,
please let me know. Maybe I can help."
"Wait!" Kasumi put out a hand to stop Ranko, then
looked questioningly at Nabiki.
"You're the eldest." Nabiki said resignedly. "I'll go
along with whatever you want."
"Akane was very frail as a child," Kasumi began,
seemingly apropos of nothing. "It's true," she smiled at
Ranko's snort of disbelief. "she nearly died of Scarlet Fever
and it affected her joints and her heart."
"Her heart?" Ranko paled. There wasn't anything
wrong with Akane's heart, was there?
"She went from a very active, healthy little girl, to
being bed-ridden and in constant pain."
"But, she got better, right? I mean, she's healthy as a
bull now." Ranko said insistently. *A really bad tempered
bull.*
"It was a very hard time. Mother died, Akane almost
died and father was . . .unwell." Kasumi's eyes were
unfocused, looking at something only she could see.
"I tried to . . . _we_ tried to take care of her,"
Kasumi looked at Nabiki, who ducked her head. "but Akane
was so young. She didn't understand how sick she was.
Only that mama was gone. Papa was . . . 'sick'. And she
couldn't leave her room anymore . . .
@@@@@@@@@@@
"I want to go see Ayumi," Akane pleaded, panting slightly
from the slight exertion and resorting briefly to
the oxygen mask beside her. "She's got a new puppy!"
"Maybe latter," Kasumi replied, feeling a little
harassed. "I've got to go get Nabiki from school and then
fix dinner." Not quite ten, Kasumi was already
accomplished in the kitchen and at household management,
thanks in part to her mother's example and her detailed
notebooks. "Why don't you read for a while, and if I have
time later we'll see about sitting in the garden after supper?"
But it was too much to expect a child to raise two other
children, especially if one was a very sick child.
"I want to see the puppy," Akane repeated, almost
in tears. "Ayumi drew a map and-----"
"NO!" Kasumi snapped, snatching the map from
Akane's hands and crumpling it in her pocket. "You're too
sick to go anywhere by yourself, and I don't have time to
take you. I've got to get Nabiki from school, shop for
dinner, clean the house," Kasumi dashed angry tears from
her eyes. "and take care of you! Stop being so selfish. I have
to do all the work! Now, read your book quietly or I won't
let you sit by the pond after dinner!"
Akane sat, stunned, in the middle of her bed as the
door slammed and her sister's foot-steps pattered down the
stairs. As the shadows crept across the bed covers, her
book lay untouched, where Kasumi had flung it.
*****
*****
"Nabiki," the middle Tendou daughter looked up
from her homework. "Please go up and help Akane come
down to dinner." Kasumi watched her sister leave the family
room, twisting her hands beneath her apron. She had been
tempted, shamefully, to have Nabiki take a tray up to
Akane's room. She'd made some bean-jam buns as a treat,
but she still dreaded facing her little sister. Maybe Akane
would be asleep and she could avoid-----
"Neechan? Akane's not in her room." Nabiki was
aggravated at having climbed the stairs for nothing. "Can I
have a bean-jam bun while the rice is cooking?"
"You'll spoil your dinner," Kasumi said
automatically. "Go out to the garden and bring Akane in.
It's to chilly for her to be out." Kasumi felt a guilty sense of
relief. She could 'forgive' Akane for going out without
permission, which would allow her to avoid the whole
'puppy' situation. She had a happy thought. In fact, she
would take Akane to see the 'puppy' tomorrow. Maybe
they could even get a puppy or at least a kitten. That would
be company-----
"She's not out there." Nabiki sounded a little
puzzled.
"What?" Kasumi snapped out of her daydream.
"What do you mean? She's got to be out there."
"I looked!" Nabiki said, indignantly. "She's not in
the garden."
"Of course she is . . .unless she's playing a trick,"
Kasumi's earlier thoughts of treats for her sister vanished.
"Nabiki, go look upstairs. I'll check outside."
"Oh boy. Akane's in trouble, ain't she?" Nabiki said
gleefully.
"She is as soon as I find her."
Thirty minutes later Kasumi stood white-faced in
the kitchen while Nabiki munched contentedly on a bean-
jam bun. The house and grounds weren't that big and the
two girls had searched twice, even checking the tiny crawl-
space and attic, under the beds and in the closets, the
doujou and the roof. Akane was gone. Her portable oxygen
bottle as well.
Pots and pans and containers of thawing food lay
scattered around the kitchen, proof of blind desperation as
Kasumi had emptied the cabinets and cupboards and ripped
everything out of the refrigerator, unable in her fear to
dismiss any possibility, no matter how absurd.
Her body shivered uncontrollably and tears streamed
down her cheeks. Akane was gone. She'd yelled at her.
Akane was gone. Over and over that single thought chased
itself around her mind. Akane was gone.
Papa was out getting more 'medicine'.
She'd yelled at Akane.
Could the neighbors help . . .she cringed,
remembering how Papa had shouted at Mrs. Oson when
she'd tried to talk to him about his 'medicine.'
Akane was gone.
The police . . .Kasumi knew what papa would say if
she called the police and her tears fell faster.
Akane was gone.
Mama was gone.
Papa was gone.
Akane was gone.
And Kasumi didn't know what to do.
"Can I have another bun?" Nabiki had learned to
grab what was in front of her.
Mechanically Kasumi moved to get another bun and
something crinkled in her pocket. Reaching inside she pulled
out a crumpled paper. Smoothing it out revealed a map.
The puppy!
"Get your coat," Kasumi commanded, reaching for
her own. Nabiki shrugged and grabbed her coat, pausing to
stuff the remaining buns into the pockets.
"Where we goin'?"
"To get your sister." *Please Kami-sama.*
*****
*****
It wasn't a very good map, done in a childish scrawl
on the back of a scrap of clinic stationary, but it was all she
had. She didn't even know Ayumi's last name. Only that she
was a girl Akane had met at the clinic, and she had a puppy.
"I'm tired," Nabiki whined, again. "I want to go
home."
"Not until we find Akane," Kasumi said patiently.
Nabiki was too young to be out this late, she thought
guiltily, never considering she was only two years older.
"Wait here a minute," she walked across the street
and bought a strawberry crepe and some tea, describing
Akane to the vendor and asking if he'd seen her. Getting a
promise from the man to have Akane wait by his yatai if he
saw her, Kasumi re-crossed the street and handed the treat
to Nabiki.
"Wrr eee tmk buff?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full." Kasumi said
automatically, desperately scanning the streets.
"Why don't we take the bus?" Nabiki asked,
washing down the last of the crepe with some tea.
"Because the map isn't drawn with bus directions."
And because Akane had never traveled by bus before.
Kasumi fingered her own transit-pass nervously. The system
was confusing, even for seasoned travelers, which is why
she had to take Nabiki to and from school. If Akane _had_
managed to get on a bus somehow, she could be anywhere.
She might not even be in Nerima, anymore.
"We just have to keep walking, until we find her."
Or find someone who had seen her. A little girl pulling a
bottle of oxygen shouldn't be hard to remember. But even if
someone _had_ seen her while she was walking (if she was
walking) they were long gone. Kasumi's best chance was
someone who would be on the streets and in one spot, like
the man with the yatai. But those old-fashioned vendors
were few and far between.
"I wanna go home." Nabiki dragged behind Kasumi,
really tired now. Kasumi was getting tired herself. Maybe
she should have left Nabiki at home, but the thought of
letting Nabiki out of her sight was too terrifying to even
think about.
"It's not much further now," Kasumi coaxed, not
really knowing herself far it was. "There will be puppies and
cakes and tea . . ." she enumerated all the treats in store.
"I'm tired." Nabiki said simply, not even caring
about snacks and Kasumi knew she was in trouble.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. But just a little farther," she
pleaded, almost in tears. "Just a little bit, I promise." A chill
ran through her body as she caught a movement out of the
corner of her eye.
Across the street a samurai-in-miniature pulled a
green bottle of oxygen in a cart.
Step-drag-step-pause.
In her other hand she dragged a mesh grocery bag,
almost as big as she was, and much too heavy for her to lift.
Step-drag-step-pause.
A small step, drag the mesh-bag a pace, a tiny step,
then pause to rest.
"Akane?" Prayerfully.
"Akane!"
Dragging Nabiki by the hand Kasumi raced across
the street, heedless of traffic or pedestrians. "AKANE!"
"N . . .nee . . .sama?" Akane gasped, smiling in glad
surprise. "I . . .got . . ." her face was grey with exhaustion,
and the small bottle of oxygen had run out hours ago. " . . .
gro . . . ceries." She smiled hopefully. "I . . .help . . .too?"
Dazed, Kasumi looked in the shopping-bag, which
she recognized as her mother's. Inside was a package of
rice, two cups of instant ramen and an onion. And Akane's
Lucky Kitty purse.
"N . . .neesama?" Akane's hand went to the little
wooden sword at her waist as Kasumi fell to her knees,
sobbing. "Don't . . .cry . . .eesama. I . . .tect . . .you."
*****
*****
****
"Why can't I go too?" Akane complained.
"Because it's too dangerous," Tendou Souun, said
patiently. "And you're too young.
"I'm almost nine," Akane objected, indignantly.
"And Kasumi----"
"Kasumi is heir to the Musabetsu Kakutou
Tendou-ryuu," Sound explained, not for the first time. "It is
her duty to compete in tournaments."
"But I want to watch! Nabiki gets to go."
"I'm the manager," Nabiki replied with the lofty
superiority of an older sister. "I have to take care of
equipment and hotels and paperwork and stuff."
"The trip would be too stressful for you," Souun
worried, "and this is a major competition. There will be a
very rough crowd there."
Nabiki rolled her eyes. Kasumi was in a girls twelve
and under competition. They wore padded armor, strikes to
the head and below the waist weren't allowed and the
rounds lasted three minutes with a one minute rest between.
The roughest fighters there would be some of the parents,
and they weren't allowed onto the mat. But Tendou Souun
thought his girls were made of spun sugar. When he was
sober, at least.
"There really isn't much to see," Kasumi offered
softly.
"I want to watch you win, 'neesama." Akane
cajoled, hoping to win over the real head of the house.
"Oh, I'm afraid you would be disappointed. You've
won many more competitions that I have." She waved a
hand at the trophies lining the wall.
"Swimming," Akane dismissed scornfully. "Power-
lifting. I'm a martial artist too!"
There was a moment of silence, then Souun
exploded.
"NO! Absolutely not. I forbid it. Martial arts are too
dangerous for you." He would have said more, but Kasumi
intervened.
"We have to go now," She kissed Akane on the
forehead, "but Mrs. Oson has promised to look in while
we're gone. There's food in the kitchen and the emergency
numbers are pinned to the message board." A quick hug and
she hurried her father and Nabiki out the door, before they
could agitate Akane further. It wasn't good for her to get
excited. Kasumi had been reading about a new therapy in
the magazines at the doctors office that might help the
inflamation in Akane's hip. She'd have to make a trip to the
library when they got back and do some more reading.
Akane watched them walk down the street toward
the bus stop until they were out of sight. "They treat me like
I'm a baby," She muttered, limping back upstairs to her
room where she dragged her backpack from the closet.
Patting her pocket to make sure her money was secure she
headed out the door, ignoring the oxygen cylinder gathering
dust in the corner.
*****
Looking around the huge auditorium Akane
swallowed a little nervously. The train ride had been
exciting, although she'd missed a stop and had to double
back, but that meant she'd arrived late. It was so noisy and
so big she couldn't even see the other side. And there were
two other buildings! How was she ever going to find where
'neesama was competing?
"Doujou?"
"What?" Akane jumped as a man sitting behind a
table spoke to her.
"What doujou are you with?" He gave a friendly
smile to the broad shouldered boy in jeans and sweat-shirt.
Kid looked like a weight lifter.
"T . . .Tendou. Musabetsu Kakutou Tendou-ryuu!"
Akane stuttered.
"Tendou . . .Tendou . . .oh, here it is." He looked
down the list. "You only have Tendou Kasumi registered,
though." He pulled out a thick packet of papers. "You'll
have to fill these out first." He eyed the kid, estimating his
weight class with an expert eye. "Boy's Middle Division is
in building two-west."
"B . . .boy? But I'm -----" then the rest of his
sentence registered. "Competition?"
"You are here to compete?" He hesitated, the brown
envelope poised half-outstretched.
"Oh . . .oh YES!" She practically snatched the
envelope from his hand. "I'm here to compete!" Wouldn't
papa be surprised. He wouldn't teach her, but she peeked
through the door when 'neesama was doing kata and then
she'd practice on her own when no one else was around.
This would be her first chance to actually try out what she'd
been learning.
Akane looked at the papers in the envelop and
frowned. It had a lot of kanji that she hadn't learned yet.
She shrugged and carefully printed her name at the top,
filling out the parts she understood and guessing at the rest.
Akane really _meant_ to ask someone to explain all the big
words to her, but in the excitement of her first ever martial
arts competition, she forgot.
*****
*****
"You did very well, daughter," Souun told Kasumi
gruffly. "I am very proud of you."
"She was eliminated in the sixth round," Nabiki
complained, a bit peeved since she'd placed bets on the
assumption Kasumi wouldn't make it past the fifth round.
"But she didn't get hurt," Souun replied. "That's the
most important thing. You didn't get hurt," he asked
anxiously, "did you?"
"I'm fine papa," Kasumi assured him, a little sadly.
"I'm sorry I didn't win. I'll try harder next time."
"It's the fault of those judges," he complained. "I
don't know where they get these people."
"Yes, papa." Kasumi was too dutiful a daughter to
contradict her papa. But she just wasn't very good at
sparring, it was too noisy and competitive. She much
preferred the gentle quiet of 'Forms', especially with
naginata.
A sudden roar attracted their attention.
"Hey," Nabiki looked at a sign on the wall. "Boys
Full Contact, Middle Division. Let's go take a look."
"Full contact," Souun said doubtfully. "I don't think
it's very proper for you to be seeing something like that."
Kasumi tended to agree. But Nabiki would like it,
which Kasumi always thought strange. Her sister couldn't
be coaxed onto the mat under any circumstances, but she
enjoyed watching martial arts. She saw Nabiki pull out her
wallet and check the contents. Of course, it might just be
the betting she enjoyed.
"I'm going to check out the suck . . .errrr . . .the
competitors. You get some good seats and I'll meet you in
a few minutes." Putting on her most innocent little girl face,
Nabiki prepared to hustle some proud, yet undiscriminating,
parents.
Edging their way down the isle Kasumi and her
father found two seats together and one across the isle,
which Kasumi claimed for Nabiki by resting her gym bag on
it.
"This isn't good," Souun measured the competitors
with an expert eye, forgetting his earlier objections. "that
smaller boy's stance is all wrong." He pointed to a dark
haired boy in a plain cotton gi. "His weight is too far
forward, and the placement of his left foot is all wrong."
"He does seem a little awkward," Kasumi agreed.
"but he _did_ make it to the finals." She watched a tall,
whip-cord lean boy in metallic-gold silk, glide forward with
panther-like grace. His opponent shuffled sideways like a
lame bear. There was something vaguely familiar about that
clumsy movement, and she wished they weren't sitting so
far back.
"It's a disgrace," Souun muttered. "having someone
so obviously unskilled competing. Probably political
connections. Just like your opponent."
"Oh, father."
"The only connection that guy has is at the fist at the
end of his arm." Nabiki showed up, arms full of snacks. At
Kasumi's chiding look she reluctantly shared some of her
bounty with father and sister.
"That guy screwed up all the odds," she informed
them disgustedly, around a mouthful of chips. "No one's
taking any bets on anything now. Don't know much about
him, name's Kandou or Aiko or something. Latecomer,"
she washed down the chips with some cola, "not on the
program. But he's been blasting through the competition.
Not much style, but he's supposed to have a hell of a left."
Souun gave her a dark look, and Kasumi mouthed
'language', both of whom she ignored.
In the ring, the boy in gold lashed out with a
spinning high-kick which caught the dark-haired boy on the
shoulder, tumbling him across the matt.
"Not going to do him any good now, though."
Nabiki tapped her program with an index finger. "That's
Yamoto 'Super Foot' Kenjiro. Age sixteen and he's won
the championship every year for four years. This is his last
year in the Middle division and he's a chinch to win this
one." She hated being at the mercy of 'wild cards' when
she was betting.
And indeed it seemed it would be over quickly, as
Kenjiro controlled the fight completely, hitting the other boy
when and where he willed. In a few short moments his
opponent was a battered, bleeding wreck and the referee
halted the fight.
"Is it over?" Kasumi asked hopefully, eyes closed
against the carnage.
"Only if he quits, can't continue or is knocked out,"
Nabiki replied ghoulishly. But, even when this guy got his
head broken, it wouldn't put money in her pocket.
Gambling on sports was profitable, but she wanted
something that would pay off no matter who won or lost.
She wanted more _control_!
The smaller boy shook his head at something the
official said and the referee held up his right hand, indicating
the fight was to continue.
Kinjiro lashed out with a bewildering combination of
kicks and savage strikes, some of which his opponent
caught on his forearms, but many of which he blocked with
his face.
Six times the dark haired boy went down, and six
times he got up. Twice the fight was stopped, and once a
doctor came into the ring to check his condition. His nose
was mashed to one side, his lips were split and bleeding and
he peered through two eyes that were black and swollen to
mere slits, but he wouldn't quit and he wouldn't stay down.
Kenjiro, untouched as yet, was feeling the effects of
his continuous all-out attack. He was drenched in sweat, his
uniform was disheveled and he was smeared in blood, albeit
all his opponent's. Worse, some of the audience were
beginning to boo him. Why wouldn't that stupid kid stay
_down_!
But Kenjiro hadn't progressed as far as he had by
being careless. Centering himself, he started his slashing
attacks, once more. It would take time, but eventually his
opponent would go down, and _stay_ down, or the officials
would stop the match and award it to Kenjiro on points. It
was less satisfactory than a submission or knock-out, and
there was a reluctance to decide a full-contact match on
points. But right now, he'd take what he could get.
Half an hour later, Kenjiro was getting worried.
He'd never fought a match that lasted longer than fifteen
minutes, and fatigue was slowing him down. His opponent
was still slower, but the difference between them was
narrowing rapidly. Because Kenjiro's opponent continued
to move in exactly the same awkward but powerful manner
he'd started the match. Time was working against Kenjiro.
Putting some distance between them, Kenjiro
considered his options. He was nearing the end of his
strength and starting to get sloppy. A mistake could cost
him the match. He had to end this quickly.
Contrary to his trademark spinning high-kicks, he
went in fast and low, feinting with a savage side kick to his
opponents leg to force an opening, following with a spear-
hand to the belly that should have collapsed the dark haired
boy like a burst balloon.
Instead, it was as if he'd hit a bag of wet clay. The
other boy looked at him for an instant, as if to ask 'is that all
you've got?', then a rock hard fist hit him just below the
heart.
A fireball exploded and Kenjiro felt as if his chest
had collapsed into his spine. The mat spun crazily and then
he was looking up at the ceiling while his brain bounced
around in his skull. Moments later blurry shadows blocked
his view of the ceiling tiles as the referee and doctor bent
over him, mouths moving. But he couldn't hear anything
over the thunderous pain, couldn't breath, couldn't scream-
----
"Wow!" Nabiki came out of her seat, along with the
rest of the spectators, as 'Super Foot' flew through the air,
limbs flopping like a rag doll, hit the edge of the mat, and
bounced. There was a moment of stunned silence, then a
roar from the crowd as the doctor and referee ran to the
fallen boy.
A few more moments and the referee held up his
hands for silence.
"Yamato Kenjiro, being unable to continue - -" he
glanced questioningly at the doctor, who shook his head,
giving the official an 'are you crazy' look, "- - being unable
to continue, this match has been decided by a knock-out!
The winner of the Boys, twelve to sixteen Full Contact
Martial Arts Competition" he took a deep breath " . . .
representing the Musabetsu Kakutou Tendou-ryuu" He held
up the dark haired boy's hand----
"Tendou!" Souun shot out of his seat like a samurai-
in-the-box "What is this," he stormed down the isle, toward
the mat. "I am the Head of the Tendou-ryuu and this
imposter----
"-----Tendou Akane!"
Souun skidded to a halt, a shocked look on his face,
similar to that of a toad under the wheels of a truck.
"My baby!" He whirled on the referee. "How could
you let this happen to my little girl!" he wailed.
"G . . .girl?" the official fell back a pace, stunned.
Looking at the powerfully built figure who had blasted his
. . . uhhh . . ._her_ way through the entire division, he stifled
an urge to ask Souun if he had any proof this was a girl.
After two quick wins by knock-outs, followed by a
hasty forfeit, the referee had decided the name Akane was
some bizarre training gimmick, like that American song
about a Boy Named Soo.
"Hi papa!" Akane's battered face lit with a broad
grin. "Didja see me?" she slurred through puffy lips. "That
was _fun_! Neesama?" Her face fell. "Oh no! Is your match
over already? I wanted to see you win."
"That's alright, Akane-chan," Kasumi said faintly.
"Your match was much more . . .interesting."
"So . . ." Nabiki's conversational tones carried over
the murmur of the crowd as she spoke with one of the
judges. "I'm thinking of writing this essay for Asian Martial
Arts Quarterly, about a nine year old girl who whips the
boy's middle division champion." She smiled cutely. "But, I
thought I'd offer you first option to buy it."
*****
*****
*****
"Are you alright, Akane?" Kasumi looked worriedly
at her baby sister. At almost twelve years of age Akane's
body fairly glowed with energy and her densely packed
musculature was more powerful than many grown men.
Despite these outward signs, Kasumi still saw a frail child
who was left weak and gasping after a walk up the stairs.
"Hmmm," Akane's head swivelled excitedly back
and forth, afraid she might miss something. "What did you
say?"
"I wondered if you were feeling ill. You look a little
flushed. Maybe I should take your temperature." Kasumi
put all her weight on one crutch so she could reach into her
pocket for the small medical kit she carried anytime Akane
was traveling.
"She's just excited," Nabiki drawled, wondering if
she could sneak away long enough to lay down some sucker
bets. It was a sure thing that she could find a lot of people
who'd never seen Akane fight and would take long-odds on
her sister. "There are weapons to buy, bones to break,
sweaty, muscular half-naked boys to wrestle into
submission."
"Nabiki!" Kasumi scolded. Sometimes she didn't
know what to do with that girl.
"Yeah, it's great," Akane enthused. Nabiki sighed as
Akane, once again, missed the point entirely. "I've seen
some really strong looking fighters. There's even an expert
in Thai Boxing."
"Well, this is Thailand," Kasumi murmured.
"Oh, yeah," Akane grinned sheepishly. "Anyway,
he's amazing, I watched him balance a stick on his foot,
snap-kick a twelve-inch thick oak plank in two, then catch
the stick with his toes before it hit the ground. He broke
three bones in his last fight!"
"His, or the other guy's?" Nabiki asked, suppressing
a shudder. Blood was barely tolerable, as long as it was
someone else's and she couldn't smell it. But breaking
bones - - she had to clench her teeth against sudden nausea.
"His opponent's," Akane replied, seriously. "Thai
Boxing was supposed to be invented by King Naresuen of
Siam, that's modern Thailand," she said, face alive with
enthusiasm. "and it's got really strong high-kicks, but I'm
not very good at those," she admitted.
Shifting her weight, Akane lifted her right leg
parallel to the ground, pointing to a line of yellow callous
just forming along her shin. "And you build up your bones
by smashing them against trees and things until you can
shatter your opponents bones with-----"
"That's alright," Nabiki held up a hand. "I don't
need to know all the gory details."
"Oh," Akane sounded disappointed. "But it's a
really, really neat technique."
"Are you going to have to fight this . . .neat
person?" Kasumi asked, faintly.
"No," Akane kicked at the floor in frustration. "He's
in the senior heavy-weight division and they won't let me."
Kasumi hid a sigh of relief, knowing Akane wouldn't
understand her worries. "But he said he'd spar with me
tomorrow afternoon." Akane added, not noticing the
sudden shadow that darkened Kasumi's eyes.
"Sorry I'm late," Tendou Souun came puffing up, a
large duffle clutched under his arms. "But the airport finally
found Akane's bag and I got us checked into the hotel."
"That's alright, father," Kasumi answered, gifting
him with a large smile. "Akane has had fun exploring.
Would you like some help with that?" She shifted one of her
crutches to her other hand and reached for the bag.
"NO," Souun flushed slightly as several people
looked his way, then said again in a more normal voice. "I
mean, no, I'm fine, Kasumi." He smiled, but couldn't meet
her gaze, his eyes instead straying in horrified fascination to
the lightweight cast on her left leg.
"Are you _sure_ you don't need any help, father?"
Nabiki asked in a carefully neutral voice. "You might slip
and fall down."
The blood drained from Soun's face and he looked
helplessly at his eldest daughter, afraid he would see
condemnation in her eyes, more afraid he would see
forgiveness.
"Are you mad about something, Nabiki?" Akane
asked worriedly, looking between her sister and her father.
"Nabiki is just a little tired from the trip," Kasumi
explained. "Why don't she and I get something for
everyone to eat while you and father go take care of
registration."
"Yeah," Nabiki had the grace to look at her sister a
little shamefaced, "I'm just tired. "but her eyes held no
forgiveness for her father. "I'll see you two in a little while."
She hugged Akane. "Let me know if you see any good
prospects that might have been overlooked." She grinned at
her sister. "There's a new dress I've got my eye on, and if I
can play some short odds, I can clean up." She stood
watching her sister disappear down an escalator. Souun
looked back over his shoulder at his middle daughter, but
she turned away, refusing to meet his eyes.
"You should show more respect to father." Kasumi
chided gently as they started to explore for restaurants.
"Respect?" Nabiki snorted, " _him_!" She saw the
real hurt in Kasumi's eyes and instantly relented. "I'm
sorry."
"He is trying, you know."
"I . . .Okay, he's trying." Nabiki was constitutionally
unable to understand how Kasumi could be so forgiving. At
least Akane got mad at people. Of course she got over it
almost instantly and neither Akane or Kasumi ever held a
grudge.
She, on the other hand, held a grudge until it died of
old age, then had it stuffed and mounted, "I'll try, too."
Nabiki linked arms with her older sister and together they
headed for the office complex. "Why don't we pick up
some beef bowl for Akane and father," she offered, as a
peace offering, to Kasumi, if not her father.
*****
*****
"I think we're lost." Nabiki looked around in
frustration, balancing a stack of Styrofoam containers in her
arms.
"I think you're right," Kasumi searched for
something familiar, but all the signs were in Thai, which
didn't help. "but we'll find our way back eventually," she
added cheerfully. "after all we can see the main concourse."
She pointed over the railing at the noisy throngs, two stories
below.
"Yeah, great," Nabiki said sourly, juggling the hot
food containers. "now if we just had a couple hundred feet
of rope, we'd be in business." She could see tiny lines of
strain around Kasumi's mouth as her broken leg began to
ache. "Why don't you have a seat, while I scout around for
a way out." She'd tired to follow their footprints in the dust,
back to the elevator that had brought them to this floor, but
somehow she'd gotten them all twisted around.
"Oh, no. I'm sure we'll find a working elevator or an
open stairway soon."
"It's my fault," Nabiki said miserably. "I thought I
could save you from having to take the stairs, if we cut
straight across from the other building."
"Just think of it as an adventure," Kasumi patted
Nabiki on the shoulder. "Let's try that way," she pointed
down a corridor "maybe we can find our way back to the
restaurant."
*****
*Oneesama?* Akane watched the figure disappear
into the shadows, two levels above her head. *What are
they doing up there? Maybe they got lost.* she thought,
limping toward the fire-stairs. The door was unlocked, and
the 'Under Construction' sign was in Thai.
*****
"::Well, well, and who are you?::"
"E . . .excuse me," Kasumi said, bowing politely to
the nattily dressed man. "But, we're lost. Could you please
tell us how to get back to the main concourse?" she spoke
slowly, hoping she could somehow make herself
understood.
"Lost?" The man, thin to the point of emaciation,
twitched his coat into line. "Well, that's easy to do in this
maze. All the construction, exposed wiring, blocked stairs,
elevators not working. You could wander around for
months without seeing a living soul."
"Oh, you speak Japanese." Kasumi said in relief,
then blushed at how rude she must appear.
"Also English, Dutch, French, Thai and Mandarin."
he smiled, holding out a business card:
'Rim of Fire Import/Export. J. Pang, Pres.'.
"Jonathan Pang, call me Johnny. Let me help you
with that," he relieved Nabiki of her burden. "I think we can
help you find your way out."
"We?" Nabiki asked suspiciously.
"Just some friends of mine." Jonathan Pang smiled,
green eyes twinkling merrily as three men, one of them a
giant, stepped out of the shadows. "we were discussing
some business, when we heard you talking."
*****
"HaaaaCHOOO!" Gasping, Akane fumbled a
handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her streaming eyes.
The dust was terrible, but at least she had a trail to follow.
She just wasn't positive it had been made by her sisters. She
was trying to decide if she should go right or left, when the
faint murmur of voices made her pause. A sudden terrified
cry hit her like an electric shock and she sprinted down the
corridor toward the sound, ignoring the sudden burst of fire
in her leg.
*****
"Leave me _alone_!" Nabiki kicked futilely at the
giant who held her. "Let me go!"
Johnny Peng was in a good mood. He'd gone from
a shortfall, to being one-up, and his overhead on the deal
was zero.
He liked the looks of Nabiki. About twelve or
thirteen he judged. Young and frightened brought good
prices. Pity she was Japanese, though. European and
American brought the best money. Especially blonds. The
other one might be a problem.
The fetish market was difficult to judge and he
wasn't sure if he'd get more from a client who liked to play
with cripples or one who preferred to make them. He
looked Kasumi up and down, uncomfortable with the way
she just stared into the distance, as if he weren't there. If she
went catatonic, she was no good to him.
"::Aaaaa! You bitch!::"
Johnny whirled toward the scream to see the giant,
Qui, jerk away from Nabiki, who had sunk her teeth into his
wrist. One of the two men holding Kasumi started forward
to help him. As soon as he dropped her arm, Kasumi spun
one crutch as if it were a naginata, dropping the man
holding her other arm with a solid blow to the head.
"Nabiki, RUN!"
Kasumi shifted her grip on the crutch and threw it
like a spear, catching the giant in the temple, forcing him to
release Nabiki entirely. Grasping her remaining crutch as if
it were a fighting-staff, she made a halting advance on Peng,
attempting to force him away from the door. Behind
Kasumi the other guard quickly reversed course, pulling a
collapsible baton from under his coat.
"::Crap! I don't need this shit.::" Easily avoiding
Kasumi's clumsy lunge, Pang glanced over his shoulder to
see the giant snag Nabiki by the arm and yank her into the
air, one huge hand drawn back to smash in the teeth that
had drawn his blood.
"::NO, not the face!::" Johnny yelled, seeing his
profits about to vanish under Qui's massive fist. The giant
shifted his target at the last minute and Nabiki folded around
his fist, falling to the ground, gasping and vomiting.
Satisfied that at least part of his profits were safe,
for the moment, he looked back to see Kasumi fall to the
ground as Chong clubbed her behind her good leg.
"NEESAMA!"
::Ah, shit!:: Johnny turned to see a dusty,
disheveled girl-child standing in the doorway, dress still
swirling around her legs from her run. *What is this,
cripples on parade?* he thought, looking at the heavy knee
brace with revulsion. Well, maybe she'd clean up nice and
he could get a few dollars for her. He opened his mouth to
order Qui to grab her, and then Jonathan 'Call me Johnny'
Peng started to have a very bad day.
The first thing Akane saw was Nabiki, curled in a
fetal position on the floor, sobbing. Then a man hit Kasumi.
She heard the meaty thwack of metal on bone, saw
Kasumi's eyes go dark with pain, the crutch fly from her
hand. In slow motion, she watched her sister crumple and
fall to the ground, like a broken butterfly. A loud screaming
noise was coming from someplace. Then it got very quiet
and a red fog closed in until all she could see was the man
standing over Kasumi with a club. Akane took a step------
With a scream, like a boiler explosion in hell, fifty-
three kilograms of fury burst into the room. Chong lashed
out reflexively at the shrieking thunderbolt, but his steel club
bounced off a rock-hard shoulder. He never had the chance
for a second blow, as a clawed hand grabbed him by the
throat and hurtled him through the wall. Or, halfway
through. Midway, he stopped a four-by-six with his face and
lost interest in the waking world for several weeks.
The giant, Qui, was a master of Musti-Yuddha,
Indian Boxing. Six foot six, two hundred eighty pounds of
meanness, he'd killed nineteen men in single combat and
once wrestled a ton-and-a-half of Brahma-bull for a fifty-
dollar bet, breaking the beast's spine with a single blow.
He casually reached for Akane with a shovel sized
hand, unable to take an elementary-school girl seriously.
Until the school-girl twisted under his grappling hand and
struck a savage one-two combination into the nerve bundle
under his arm, a blow that would have stunned or crippled a
normal human. Qui only bellowed in pain and slammed back
with a Red-Tiger-Fist.
The blow spun Akane into the wall, snapping her
collar bone with a sound like a pistol shot. Qui grinned in
anticipation, waiting for the look of fear and pain he liked so
much. But Akane's look said, *Is that all you've got?*
Qui had a brief glimpse of fierce eyes, red with
blood from capillaries burst under an adrenalin surge, and
then Akane crashed into him like a wave breaking on the
shore. He fought back desperately, slamming her with body
blows that would have killed a man twice her size.
But Akane was caught in the grip of battle frenzy
Norsemen called "Berserker" - - inhumanly strong and pain
only made her stronger. She shrugged off Qui's blows and
came back for more, kicking, punching and even tearing at
his flesh with her teeth, until he felt like he'd stuck his head
in a meat grinder.
Qui had a price on his head in three countries, he'd
killed two knife fighters one-handed, holding his guts in
place with the other, after they'd sliced his belly open. He
still carried three bullets in his chest, from a Pakistani
policeman who'd tried to arrest him, and a two-dollar
hooker in Jakarta had bitten off his right ear when he'd tried
to leave without paying.
He still had his head on his shoulders, his guts in his
belly and he wore the ear on a chain around his neck. He'd
pistol whipped the cop with his own gun.
Three minutes after Tendou Akane entered the room
he was crying for his mother and a minute after that, he hit
the ground, looking like something the cat threw up.
Johnny Peng dragged himself upright, from where
Akane's initial rush had thrown him, wanting nothing so
much in life as to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. He
might have made it too, if in his haste to escape he hadn't
tripped over Nabiki. Her cry of fright attracted Akane's
attention, and Jonathan 'Call me Screwed' Peng's last sight,
before he woke up in intensive care six weeks later, was of
Tendou Akane coming for him like a starving wolf after a
rabbit.
@@@@@@@
"Things got a little . . .hectic after that. They could
hear Akane down in the main concourse----"
"They could hear her in Hokkaido." Nabiki
interjected dryly.
"They heard Akane," Kasumi persisted, as if Nabiki
hadn't spoken. "And some people came. And then some
more people. And then the police and an ambulance-----"
"Photographers,"Nabiki added, "and souvenir
hunters. Don't forget them."
"A lot of people came," Kasumi continued
doggedly, "and took us all to jail."
"Jail!"
"You're presumed guilty until you can prove your
innocence in Thailand. Plus we were foreigners."
"Not just foreigners. Japanese foreigners." Nabiki
added with some remembered bitterness at their scornful
treatment.
"They eventually decided that Akane, Nabiki and I
were guilty----"
"Guilty!" Ranko exclaimed, "Guilty of what?"
"Apparently we lured Mr. Pang and his friends into a
secluded room in order to rob them."
Ranko laughed involuntarily, then stopped at
Kasumi's tortured look.
"It does seem absurd now, but it wasn't very funny
when we went to trial."
"That's crazy!"
"Mr. Pang had some powerful friends. Friends who
would have been embarrassed if our story were believed."
"But, you won the case, right?"
"No," Kasumi said slowly, with remembered pain.
"We were found guilty and sentenced to thirty years, each."
Ranko shook her head in disbelief. "But, you got a
pardon or-----"
"Akane took the blame, for all of it, for all of us."
Nabiki said heavily. "That son-of-a-bitch was going to sell
us like whores, and our baby sister gets ninety years in jail
for saving us."
"Papa started calling in favors from old friends, from
the days before mo-----before he got sick."
"The Kuno's helped" Nabiki added. "Tatiwaki's
grandfather was alive then, and he was a tough, shrewd old
Son-of-Nippon. Plus Tatiwaki's father wasn't about to let a
'pure' Japanese girl rot in a foreign jail."
"Under Thai tradition, the King grants amnesty on
his birthday. Every five years." Kasumi pressed her fingers
against her temples. "We were really quite fortunate. Akane
only had to spend fifteen months in jail."
Ranko wanted to throw up. Ranma once spent three
_days_ in a Burmese jail, which were considered holiday
resorts compared to their Thai equivalents. He'd sworn an
oath to God, to kill Genma and feed his body to wild pigs if
he _ever_ took them within a hundred miles of the Burmese
border again.
"Akane was . . .different when we finally got her
back. She didn't like to be touched."
Ranko gasped, the blood draining from her face.
"NO!" Kasumi correctly interpreted Ranko's
reaction, having had the same nightmare. "She was never . .
.that is we don't think----"
"She wasn't raped,"Nabiki said baldly, and with
absolute conviction. "or they'd still be holding her for
murder, assuming they could find any body parts big enough
to use as evidence against her. But I don't think they were
very . . . nice, to her."
"I think almost the worst part was when they banned
her from competition." Ranko shook his head in disbelief.
"Because of her prison record," Kasumi explained. "But she
was reinstated."
"As long as she stays out of trouble." Nabiki added
bitterly. "I suppose we should all apologize for not letting
ourselves be raped and murdered."
"It doesn't do any good to hate." Kasumi said
gently.
"Oh yes it does," Nabiki disagreed hotly. "And one
of these day's I'm going to cut that bastard Peng's balls off
and make them into earrings."
Kasumi put a calming hand on her sister's arm and
Nabiki subsided, breathing heavily.
"Akane was always . . .well, she really believed all
the stories father used to tell her about Martial Artists
protecting the weak" Kasumi continued, "and heroic
samurai defeating the evil shogun, protecting the oppressed
villagers . . ." Kasumi paused a moment, trying to find the
right words.
"After she . . .after she was home, it was as if
nothing else was _real_ anymore, except the doujou. And
us. It was months before she'd let us out of her sight. "And
she became a little, over protective."
Nabiki's lip curled at that understatement. "A little?
Some salaryman groped me on the subway . . ."
"He was just a little drunk," Kasumi explained.
"He sobered up when Akane broke all his fingers
and three ribs. And what about the gas man?"
"Oh dear. I don't think . . ."
"We weren't able to pay the gas bill one month and
the meter-man tried to take it out in 'trade'."
"I don't think Ranko wants to hear----"
Ranko did, and nodded vigorously for Nabiki to
continue.
"Akane and I walked in the door just as he put his
hand up neechan's skirt."
Kasumi moaned in embarrassment.
"It's really amazing how he learned to feed himself
with his feet." Nabiki grinned nastily.
"But Akane's _much_ better now," Kasumi said,
though Ranko wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.
"She's captain of the swimming team, class president and
she gets good grades."
Nabiki felt a little chill at Kasumi's words.
"Akane has been doing so well lately, and she's so
excited about competing in the next All Japan
Tournament . . ." Kasumi pressed her hands together
beneath the table to still their trembling. "she's been doing
so well. Things are going to be just fine. Just fine."
"Hey," Ranko chirped, using the 'I'm a pal you can
trust' smile Genma had beat into Ranma over a sixth month
period. "I think she's doing great." Kasumi and Nabiki
looked at her with expressions of mixed disbelief and
hopefulness.
"Akane's a martial artist, right? These guys broke
into her home, attacked her sister . . .and she took care of
business. End of story."
************************************************
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