----- Original Message -----
From: "Allyn Yonge" <allynyonge0000@netscape.net>
To: <ffml@anifics.com>
Sent: Monday, January 13, 2003 4:24 PM
Subject: [FFML] [fanfic][ranma][lime?]Lure the Tiger from the
Mountains22-24/30
Okay, you know the drill ^_^ Anything I say is MY OPINION ONLY, take it or
leave it as you please. I'm going to concetrate on story-based C+C, and
mostly leave the grammar and spelling to others (such as the Grandee of the
Grammar Gnomes) who will likely do a better job of it than I could.
I would also like to thank all the people who wrote to me about
my wife's eye-surgery. I'm sorry it's taken so long to reply to each
of you, but shortly after her surgery she contracted bronchopneumonia. :(
She's doing much better now, but things have been a little hectic.
Glad to hear she's doing better.
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Lure the Tiger from the Mountains
************************************************
************************************************
Chapter: 22
Da cao jing she
(Beat the grass to startle the snake)
"Would you quit following me!" Nabiki glared at
Ukyou, sauntering alongside her as they left the gates of
Furrinkan.
"Hey," Kimoko chirped from Nabiki's other side, "if
you don't want him, I'll take him."
"Yeah," Noriko seconded, "he's cute."
"Kinda skinny," Moeko opined. "I like a little meat
on a man."
Ukyou's ears turned pink, but he otherwise ignored
the discussion.
"Ladies, if I wanted a pet, I'd get a dog." Nabiki
groused, irritated that her 'friends' couldn't seem to find
anything to talk about but Ukyou, and 'their' relationship.
"I bet he'd look cute in a collar and leash." Noriko
stage-whispered.
"Trainin' 'em is half the fun." Moeko added
authoritatively. "What!" she said defensively as the other
girls stared at her. "That's what my mom said!"
Nabiki tuned out the conversation when Moeko
started a discussion on her new Doujinshi "Sinful Rose
Garden." Manga about pretty boys doing pretty things to
each other against a flowery background didn't appeal to
her. She supposed she'd been spoiled growing up, since
Akane was almost always surrounded by very athletic boys
in various states of undress.
This is new information. From previous chapters I got the impression that
Akane's "groupies" were mostly female athletes. Perhaps you might want to
allude to the Tendous having athletes of both sexes constantly training
about the house.
"What are you thinking about?" Ukyou asked softly,
startling her out of her reverie.
About Ukyo- So far s/he's taken a mostly adversarial tack when dealing with
Nabs and co. Why the sudden change? Or, if it was the beating s/he took, why
is s/he so complacent about it? Or is s/he pulling another version of
Ranma's dodge?
"Just thinking about you holding a leash in your
mouth for 'walkies'." Nabiki stifled a laugh at Ukyou's sour
expression. He really _was_ good looking, she thought
looking him over with a critical eye. Nice build, not too
bulky, good skin ,beautiful eyes with long curling lashes and
thick, slightly wave hair that made your fingers itch to touch
it. Her eyes strayed lower. Nice butt, small and tight,
powerful thighs. Good calves.
The pretty one's
No apostrophe there, it's not a possessive, just a plural.
were always selfish, though. They
expected a woman to give up her carrier, her life, _, just_ to
take care of them. 'Marriage retirement', the office ladies
called it. Slavery was a better term.
"NOW what?" Ukyou snapped, exasperated at the
way the stupid girl kept going off into a world of her own.
"Nice butt," Nabiki drawled, neither impressed by
his physique nor intimidated by his growl. Especially since
she still had such a vivid memory of him sprawled on the
ground after she slammed him in the head with her book-
bag.
"What?" Ukyou squeaked, then flushed as he
realized they were now the center of attention of Nabiki's
minions.
"I said you have a nice butt," Nabiki replied calmly.
"Small, well defined. Not flabby like a lot of guys."
"Yeah?" Noriko moved to take a closer look at
Ukyou's assets. "Some guys are all gross and wrinkly."
Eh? Has she been checking out the old men at the bathouse or something?
Flabby I can see. Hairy, I can see. But Wrinkly?
"And hairy!" Moeko added, shuddering. "I like 'em
smooth and tight. They make a better sound too."
"Sound?" Ukyou gulped as the girls began to circle
him, like sharks smelling blood in the water.
"When ya spank 'em." Moeko answered with relish,
the 'stupid' very obviously left unsaid.
"Spank?" Kimoko's eyes went wide. "Have
you . . .?"
"Heh . . ." Moeko smirked. "I keep _telling_ you
that Doujinshi are educational.
Funny as this bit is, it doesn't make a whole lotta sense. While much
spanking of bishonen tushie may take place in a yaoi doujin, it's unlikely
that she has much of a basis for comparasion, on- or off-paper; surely no
flabby arses get paddled in pretty-boy doujin?
"Ladies, Ladies," Nabiki took pity on Ukyou and
moved between him and her girls. "You're going to make
Ukyou-chan think you're amoral beasts with insatiable
appetites," she paused a beat, "you _are_ of course. But
keep your energies focused on the _important_ things in
life."
"Compound-interest." Moeko said coming to
attention.
"The house percentage." Noriko chimed in, lining up
beside her friend.
"Never give a sucker an even break!" Kimoko slid
into place and all three snapped a crisp salute.
"You make me so proud." Nabiki wiped away an
imaginary tear.
Ukyou watched the four girls share a laugh, then
separate at the next intersection.
"You're all crazy." He muttered, glancing nervously
over his shoulder as they walked. "Yeeeek!" The young
martial artist seemed to levitate four-feet straight up, his
hands flashing behind his back to cover his fundament.
Nibiki
NAbiki
looked at him guilelessly. "Something
wrong?"
"You _pinched_ me!" Ukyou gasped in outrage.
"On the BUTT!"
"On the ass" might make a better emphatic use of slang in this instance,
since a) you've used a great deal of "butt" so far, and b) it has been my
experience that "ass" is more "male" a euphemism.
"Moi? You must be imagining things."
Ukyou glared and Nabiki stifled a grin as the martial
artist fell back into step with her, well beyond arms reach
she noted. If Ukyou wanted to swim with the sharks . . .
Nabiki whistled a cheerful pop tune while Ukyou
maintained a stony silence all the way back to Nabiki's
home. Rolling her eyes as Ukyou followed her into the
house, she decided to ignore him for the moment. Punching
a button on the answering machine, Nabiki turned to
rummage through the refrigerator.
"This is Fujimoto," a gravely voice came from the
machine. "Uhhhh . . .I think I can use another machine after
all. Uhhhhh . . .if you don't mind. Sorry . . .sorry about
what I said about . . .bratty snot nosed, . . .uhhhh, what I
said. Please call me. When it's convenient."
The machine beeped and a light blinked, waiting for
the erase or save command.
It'll be convenient when hell freezes over, Nabiki
thought savagely to herself, burning with anger as she
remembered the condescending way the old fart had treated
her. She only wished she could afford to give up his
business.
"Do you hate all juice?" Ukyou asked gravely, "Or is
it a personal grudge against grape?"
Nabiki stared in confusion, then looked down at the
plastic bottle she was crushing in her hands. "Sorry," she
flushed at being caught in an unguarded moment.
"Ummm . . .would you like something?" She discreetly
shoved the mangled bottle to the back of the refrigerator
and decided on a can of tea instead.
"Some of the same," Ukyou accepted a can of
Oolong and popped the top, drinking from the can while
Nabiki opted for a glass. Taking a sip she walked to the
machine, hit the save button, and waited for the second and
last message.
"Hello?" Kasumi's breathless, almost sultry voice
came slightly distorted from the small speaker. "I . . .stop
that!" A loud smack coincided with a muffled squeal. "I'm
with a friend," - -
Did neesan just _giggle_ ? Nabiki wondered,
- - "so don't worry - - Don't do that, you'll just
make the knots tighter - - don't worry about me. There
should be plenty to eat in the pantry, and Nabiki knows
where the checkbook is," another thump and a sound as if
something were bouncing . . .hopping frantically? across
the floor, "Ohhhhh, _naughty_ girl. When I get my hands - -"
Poor Kodachi... Paying of the karmic debts of a thousand alternate versions
of herself...
Kasumi's voice cut off and the answering machine
blinked, asking [save]/[delete]. Automatically Nabiki hit
save, staring at the machine in fascination. What in the
_world_ was neesan up to?
"Junk, bill, bill - - JMAJ . . .must be for Kasumi,"
Ukyou tossed the Journal of the Medical Association of
Japan on the table.
Nabiki looked over her shoulder to see Ukyou
flipping through their mail.
"Junk, another bill, Toyama Prefecture Power
Lifting Monthly . . ." he started to toss that aside, then did a
double take. On the cover, under a banner that shouted 'We
Have the POWER!', Akane held a can of 'Ginko Super
Complex' in her right hand. With her left, she straight-
armed a small-block V8 engine. Thick cords of muscle
bulged in her arm and the cut-out midriff shirt framed a
granite-hard abdomen. But it was her eyes that caught and
held Ukyou's attention; the look of grim, almost fanatical
determination, to never let go.
"And they called _me_ crazy for training against the
raging sea?" He muttered to himself, tossing the magazine
on the table.
Okay, this is as good a place to bring it up as any; you don't really need
to keep re-emphasizing how scary Akane is in this timeline. At least once a
chapter, she seems tp perform some feat of strength or discipline that
shocks and/or horrifies one of the other cast members, who then groan about
how crazy and/or scary she is. Enough, already. By chapter 22, we the
readers know she's a juggernaut. (And if we didn't by now, the fight scene
later on in this posting would clue us in.)
"An an, Josei Jishin, WITH, Hanako, MORE! "
Ukyou shot Nabiki a sly look, waggling the thick bundle of
women's magazines. "Yours?"
"Give me that!" She lunged for the mail which he
held tauntingly out of reach. "You have no right - - "
"Hmmm . . . nothing from Genma or Ranma," he
finished looking and tossed the mail on the table, except for
a copy of the best selling Non Non. On the cover was a
young model posed with right leg flexed at a perfect ninety
degree angle, left arm pointing to the sky, right hand under
the chin. She looked like some bizarre sculpture; so
perfectly coiffured, outfitted and accessorized that the
human underneath was almost incidental. Merely a
convenient rack to hang the latest trends in clothes, watches
and bags. He glanced at the dozen or so weekly and
monthly women's magazines spread across the kitchen
table, then back at Nabiki.
"I get the feeling that Akane-san's idea of high
fashion is matching barbells, and your big sister seems to be
neat and tidy, but I don't see her as a fanatic about house-
keeping, " Ukyou paused, appearing to ponder a complex
problem. "So, unless your father . . .?" Ukyou smirked at
Nabiki's fulminating look. "Hmmmm . . .does that mean
Yendou Nabiki has a secret homemaker fetish?"
I don't know if that's a spelling error or a pun...
The skin around Nabiki's eyes tightened, but that
was the only sign of strain as she stared coldly at Ukyou.
"The subscriptions were my mothers." she said flatly,
holding out her hand for the magazine.
"Oh, hey I'm sorry," Ukyou sounded genuinely
contrite as he handed the magazine to Nabiki. He watched
as she ran a finger over the glossy cover, a sad smile on her
face.
"Your mom, huh?"
Nabiki glared at him, prepared to peal a strip off his
hide if he were being sarcastic, but saw only honest
sympathy.
"She must have been the perfect homemaker," he
commented, looking at the array of magazines covering
everything from gourmet cooking to home-crafts and
sewing your own clothes. "What's so funny?" Ukyou asked,
as Nabiki began to laugh.
"Y . . .you have _no_ idea!" Nabiki gasped, tears of
laughter streaming down her face as Ukyou's words took
her back in time. She could almost see her mother standing
at the stove . . .
@@@@
@@@@
"Now, this is the critical part . . ." Little Kasumi
nodded solemnly as Tendou Kimeko stared at the page in
her notebook with the same concentration Enrico Fermi
might have had in the Chicago University squash courts in
1942 when he tamed nuclear fire.
Damn! Work that metaphor! ^_^
<snip very funny scene>
I hate to say it, but with this and the comment Nabs makes below, I wonder
if the late Mrs. Tendou was perhaps insane. A pleasant, generally harmless
sort of madness, but crazy all the same. Nabiki might not be 100% off in her
bitterness. It must have been very tough for all of them.
"You're kidding?" Ukyou sputtered, trying to
repress a laugh.
"The first chapter in her housekeeping notebook
was 'How to boil delicious water'!" Nabiki sighed. "Not
exactly 'Iron Chef' caliber."
"Then . . ?" Ukyou pointed to the vast array of
women's magazines.
"Mama . . .lived in her own little world . . .she
_created_ worlds, and invited you to live there with her."
Hands jammed in her pockets Nabiki paced the kitchen.
"She couldn't cook, but read all the cooking magazines.
Couldn't balance a checkbook or keep house. But she
devoured the women's journals. I use to _dread_ the mail,
because I never knew what she'd try next."
Martha Stewart Living *is* the tool of the devil...
"Mama would celebrate your birthday three time in a
month - - the _wrong_ month," Nabiki emphasized, "and if
you told her it was a mistake, she'd say you were too
special for just one day." Nabiki's tidy book-keepers mind
revolted at that kind of thinking.
"If it was a hard winter she'd say how pretty the
frost looked, if the roof leaked, she'd make up games about
the rain-drops. Every _damn_ thing in the world made her
happy!"
"If the weather was bad, she'd interrupt class at
school to take everyone on an _indoor_ picnic. If we were
out shopping, she'd stop in the middle of the street to watch
a ssstupid butterfly." Nabiki dashed angry tears from her
eyes.
"You miss her, don't you?" Ukyou said
sympathetically.
"She never grew up!" Nabiki snapped. "She got sick
because she liked splashing in the puddles when it rained."
"She probably didn't get sick deliberately." Ukyou
comforted, not really sure why, except he understood loss.
His mother was alive in body, but dead to him unless he
could restore the family honor.
"She never grew _up_!" Nabiki's voice cracked.
"She died and Akane got sick and almost died because she
was a little kid." Her whole body trembled with barely
suppressed emotion. "What the hell business is it of yours!"
she suddenly lashed out, needing something to vent her
emotions on.
"None," Ukyou began, embarrassed at intruding
where he shouldn't. "I just thought - - "
Nabiki wrenched around at the crashing sound of
something falling upstairs.
"What - - ?Hey, wait!" Ukyou shouted as Nabiki
dashed from the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Kunou! What the hell?"
Ukyou hit the top stair to see Nabik framed in the
doorway to her father's room. His hand went to the hilt of
his uber-spatula as he heard Nabiki's shocked exclamation.
"Okay," he slid to a stop beside her. "What's goin - -
GENMA!" Ukyou was halfway across the room, weapon in
hand, before his furious shout died out.
Somewhere, either in or above that paragraph, you need to describe the scene
Nabiki sees upon opening the door to her Father's room.
"DIE, you son-of - - -"
Genma was amazingly quick for such a big man.
"Get back here you bastard!" Ukyou shouted as he
followed Genma out the window.
"What's going on Kunou?" Nabiki's voice was icy
as she stomped across the room. "What the hell are you
doing in my house?" She waved a hand at shredded bedding
and overturned furniture. "What - - "
"None of your business, Tendou Nabiki," Kunou
replied, coldly. As if Nabiki were intruding in _his_
bedroom, not standing in the middle of the wreckage of
Tednou Souun's room.
"None - - " Fury choked Nabiki so that her mouth
worked soundlessly. "L - - listen to me," Nabiki stuttered,
"you arrogant son of a pigs arse!" She poked him in the
chest, so fast and hard that he took a step back. "All the
little fascist-sons-of-Nippon at Furinkan might goose step
in your shadow, hoping for a chance to kiss your royal
behind, but I remember when you were seven years old and
making puddles on the floor."
Kunou flushed angrily at the reminder of their shared
child-hood.
Chaildhood is one word, no hyphens. (So saith my spell-checker)
"What's going on? What are you doing here? With
Saotome Genma?"
"I do not know any Saotome Genma," Kunou
replied, honest confusion in his eyes.
"Dammit, the fat, fast, bald SOB that just did a
"Son of a bitch" is abbreviated S.O.B.- gotta be careful with that,
especially when your characters emotions are running high- it might be
assumed that they are actually sobbing.
header out the window."Nabiki stamped her foot angrily.
"What were the two of you doing?"
"The affairs of 'The Society of Patriotism' are none
of your concern." Kunou replied haughtily, heading for the
door, the lightweight walking-cast on his leg making him
move somewhat stiffly. Nabiki moved to stop him and
discovered anger and guts didn't make up for mass and
skill. One instant she was reaching for Kunou's sleeve, the
next she was watching the floor and ceiling swap places
until she slammed into the wall.
Her vision grayed out as her brain slammed into the
back of her skull, then bounced forward, bruising and
tearing delicate tissues. Nabiki did not - - quite - - lose
consciousness, but hovered in a twilight state filled with
bursts of sound and surreal images as the complex
interlocking control system of her brain lost cohesion, like a
smashed china plate.
With a groan, Nabiki rolled over onto all fours, then
paused, feeling dizzy and sick, wanting noting more than to
collapse on the floor.
<snip vivid and fascinating new stuff added since the last draft>
Nice. A neat, comphrensive little digest of Japanese pop culture.
With a series of musical tones the phone made a
connection and she sank to the floor, leaving a smear of
blood on the wall. Leaning back, Nabiki closed her eyes and
listened to the phone ring.
"Noriko," she whispered as her friend came on the
phone. " 's N'biki. Stuff's hit the rotary impeller. Got t' do
it now. Plan Nine."she chuckled weakly at Noriko's
response. "Yeah, from outer space. Jus' do it. An' No-
chan?" she strained to hear Noriko, who sounded as if she
were shouting from the bottom of a well. Why couldn't the
girl speak up? She started to ask Johnny Sokko, but he and
Giant Robo were playing shogi with Ultraman, and she
decided not to bother them.
One thing, though- "Johnny Sokko" is the name of the protagonist in the 1968
translated version; any version of Giant Robo that a girl Nabiki's age and
nationality would be familiar with would be controlled by Daisaku Kusama,
Johnny's "real" name.
"Doub . . .double th' reward too." Two- hundred
free plays would have every Pachinko player within three
hundred kilometers looking for Genma and the others like
flies on garbage. " 'riko-chan? Call 'mbulance," she slurred,
"think K'no broke my head."
Slowly Nabiki slid along the wall to rest on the
floor, receiver falling from nerveless hands. Noriko's frantic
voice was a tinny buzz from the receiver as she hammered
questions at Nabiki.
*Death . . . is even more of a shock when it comes
unexpectedly and without warning.* Criswell intoned
solemnly, riding Mothra across the sky.
Okay, Where the heck did Nabs see Plan Nine from Outer Space or *anything*
featuring the amazing Criswell? From other story cues, this predates Tim
Burton's "Ed Wood", which, like all Burton's flicks did well in Japan. It
seems out of place, compared to all the other pop culture icons in her
hallucination.
************************************************
Chapter: 23
Jie shi huan hun
(Raise a corpse from the dead)
Akane's frantic voice on the phone had been like an
electric shock, blasting away the residue of the blind-monk's
drugs and chi. Coming out of her erotic haze, the eldest
Tendou daughter was momentarily paralyzed with shame
and humiliation.
Moving with speed and efficiency that amazed
Kasumi, who was used to thinking of her as a spoiled,
irritating butterfly, Kodachi forced black coffee down
Kasumi's throat, arranged for someone to take notes at her
cram school, replaced her ruined clothes, bundled them both
into a car and had Kasumi walking into the clinic in under
an hour.
Kasumi loved medicine, the intricate workings of the
human body, gaining the skill to ease suffering. She was
paradoxically less enamored of hospitals, and felt there had
to be something better than peeling green-painted walls, the
smell of fear, blood and stale urine mixed with moans and
tears.
Making her way down the mildewed corridor of
Nerima Plum-Street Clinic, she edged past a woman
obviously in labor, lying on a bed alongside the wall, only
to find her path blocked by two elderly men in blue-striped
hospital pajamas playing kaiawase.
"Pardon me," Kasumi murmured politely.
Without looking up from his contemplation of the
array of small white shells, one of the men pulled his IV
stand out of the way. Tapping the back of one shell, his
opponent turned it over. The small picture painted inside
didn't match the one already exposed and the second man
cackled in victory.
"Thank you." Kasumi squeaked through the small
passaged, followed closely by Kodachi and her servant
Sasuki, leaving the two old men to continue playing the
Japanese version of Memory.
"Akane!" Seeing her sister huddled in the corner
next to a blanket wrapped figure laying across several chairs
Kasumi hurried forward, pushing through the increasingly
dense crowd in the waiting room.
"I got here as quickly - -," she stopped short as she
recognized the bruised features of her middle sister. The left
side of Nabiki's face was swollen to nearly twice it's normal
size, and she was alarmingly still, her breathing fast and
shallow.
"Nabiki?" Gently Kasumi touched the ugly
yellowish-black swelling. "What happened?" Kasumi asked.
Under her fingers the pulse in Nabiki's neck was rapid and
thready, her skin cool and clammy.
"I got home," Akane looked blindly at Kasumi,
never letting go her death grip on Nabiki's hand. " - - there
was an ambulance. Neechan was - - and they took us - -"
Tears welled up in Akane's eyes and her body shook. "The
doctor said she only has a firs . . .first-stage concussion. To
just wait and she'll be better. But in the ambulance they said
she had a ruptured vertebra, and internal . . ."Akane was
shaking so badly she could hardly speak. "And she won't
wake up - - " Fear choked her voice and Akane's mouth
worked soundlessly.
Hiding her own fear Kasumi ran expert hands over
Nabiki's head, wincing at the large lump, hidden under hair
matted with blood. More frightening was a soft-spot in her
skull, the size of a hundred-yen coin. Pealing back Nabiki's
eyelids she hissed in shock.
"What is it?" Kodachi asked softly, placing a hand
on Kasumi's shoulder, not liking the way the blood had
drained from her face.
"Her pupil is blown." Kasumi said grimly. Kodachi
looked and could see Nabiki's right pupil was completely
opened, leaving only a tiny ring of white showing, in marked
contrast to the left, which was closed tightly against the
harsh hospital lights.
"W . . .what does that mean?" Akane croaked,
throat sore from crying.
"It means I want to talk to the doctor that looked at
her," Kasumi smiled, hiding her fear. "I'll be right back.
You stay with Nabiki-chan in case she wakes up."
"My lady, what . . .?" Kodachi hurried to keep up
with Kasumi's determined stride."
"Not now!" Kasumi dismissed harshly.
Not at all perturbed, Kodachi followed silently as
Kasumi searched for one of the many doctors that should be
making rounds.
"Sensei!" Kasumi stopped a white-coated figure as
he hurried across the room, clip-board in hand.
"What! I'm very busy, young lady."
"Please sensei," Kasumi said, almost stuttering
under the effort to control her emotions. "I believe my sister
has a subdural hematoma. She may need emergency
surgery."
"Thank you for your diagnosis, _doctor_," the
balding man snapped sarcastically, eying the young girl in
the ill fitting mismatched clothing distastefully, "but this is
not a televison drama. Let the doctors do their work and
you stay out of their way." He turned to go and Kasumi
grabbed his sleeve in desperation.
"Sensei, Please. I am a student - - "
"Get your hands off of me," the doctor pushed her
away roughly, making her stumble. "Security!" He called
sharply. That was the problem with working in a small
clinic. Just anyone could walk in.
"Incompetent piece of dog shit." Kodachi steadied
Kasumi with one hand, the other fisted on her hip. Her tone
was so conversational that it was an instant before her
words registered.
Flushing angrily the doctor stepped forward. "Who
do you think you are!" Where was security, he wondered.
He'd take great pleasure in having these two hauled out in
handcuffs.
"I think that I am Kunou Kodachi," she smiled thinly
at the doctor, a thousand years of Samurai tradition glinting
in her hard eyes. Tradition that she commanded and
peasants obeyed. Or died. "And I think that you are no
longer employed here."
"The Kunou Endowment?" Blood drained from the
doctors face, leaving him the color of rice-bran. "Kunou
Import and Export? The Kunou Trauma Center . . ." He
swallowed hard, quailing at the look on her face. "Kunou
Holding Company, Limited? That Kunou?" He felt a sharp
prickling at the nape of his neck and shivered, expecting to
feel the sharp edge of a katana at any moment.
"Sasuki," Kodachi squeezed Kasumi's waist
reassuringly, never breaking eye contact with the doctor.
"Call 'Uncle' Matsukuro at Tokyo Medical."
If possible the doctor went even paler at the mention
of the director of Japan's premier research center.
"Tell him what has happened and ask him to send
whatever resources are needed to treat Tendou Nabiki. No
expense is to be spared."
Kodachi thought for a moment. "Call the airfield and
have the Boeing readied for immediate flight to America or
Europe. Outfitted with whatever 'Uncle' Matsukuro says is
required for medical transport if Nabiki-san can get better
treatment overseas."
"And have the helicopter put on five-minute
standby." That meant flight checked, pilot and co-pilot
strapped in and engine turning; at ninety-five thousand yen
per minute just for jet-fuel. The tiny retainer didn't raise an
eyebrow but began speaking rapidly into a satellite phone.
"And you," Kodachi's voice cracked like a whip and
the doctor flinched. "Go get a real doctor."
Ouch. There's a lot of rage in this scene, not all of it from the
characters. I take it you and yours have had some bad experiences with
Doctors with God Complexes? Still, all-in-all, a nice scene; I hate to
suggest it, but it might be excised or streamlined to speed up plot
development- after all, is the initial misdiagnosis going to affect the
story later one? If yes, then keep it. If not, you might want to trim and/or
cut it out entirely. Just my opinion.
To quote the dishevelled detective, just one more thing- Akane and Kasumi
might take note later that Kodachi discharged (or was prepared to discharge)
her family's debt to the Temdous over the beating in the above scene...
<snip>
Akane got out of the cab and shoved some bills at
the driver. Carelessly stuffing her change in a pocket she
started walking purposefully down the street.
It was misting slightly, not enough to wash clean the
streets, but enough make the air thick with the smell of
sweat, automobile exhaust and refuse waiting to be picked
up from corner bins.
Limping slightly, the damp and strain of he day
making her joints ache, Akane made her way through the
throngs of salary-men, school-girls in sailor-fuku and
mothers with tired looks and tired babies on their hip, into a
darker area of town. One populated by goth-girls in gold-
lame and patent-leather, androgynous figures dressed like
characters in JUMP and a couple of motor-cycle
Motorcycle, all one word
punks in
white jump-suits with Elvis side-burns and dark-glasses.
They were trying to pick up girls to the sound of 'Blue-
Suede-Shoes" blasting from a state-of-the-art digital stereo
lashed to the back of a Suzuki sport bike, whose ownership
was problematic since a drill bit was still sticking from the
ignition.
I was under the impression that Elvis and Fifties music were passe with
Yanqui teens by the mid-eighties. Did they come around again, or is this an
error?
A group of men and women in orange-robes banged
Indian tambourines, chanting Hari-Krishna as they handed
out bowls of rice-curry to a long line of homeless men. In
the midst of this foaming river of humanity
Once again, your descriptive skills boggle the mind. Nicely painted.
lay an
oppressively sterile space in front of a plastic and steel
fronted building. A large sigh proclaimed that this was the
headquarters of the
CHERRY BLOSSOM SOCIETY
below that a smaller sign read:
Youth Patriotic Assembly:
Today at 4:45
Kunou Tatiwaki.
Topic: Inoculating Japan against Foreign Infection
<snip rest of chapter>
Hoo-boy, the rumble at the Sakuranbo Society... You've certainbly picked an
easily-despisable group to use as your antagonists. Question- this is the
second story of yours in which the "Patriots" are the villains. (Bloodfist
comes to mind) Any particular reason you picked them twice?
************************************************
Chapter: 24
Shing dong ji xi
(Make a feint to the east while attacking in the west)
Akane was trembling so violently by the time they
got to the street that only Ranma's arm around her waist
kept her on her feet. He could feel the pulse in her wrist
skipping beats, it was going so fast and her skin was cold
and clammy.
*Dammit, this is why girls got no business with a
doujou! You didn't see a guy going into shock every time
he hadda beat th' crud outta some idiot, didja?*
Akane gave a kind of gasping half-sob and collapsed
bonelessly against his side. Ranma turned Akane so he could
see her face.
*Crap!*
Akane's lips were blue-grey and her face was the
colour of curdled-cream. She was in serious trouble. No
time for a taxi and she'd never make it on the train. He had
to get her warm and dry _now_!
The cinderblock wasteland of downtown Tokyo was
lightened by a flash of colour a few blocks away and Ranma
could make out 'HOTEL' in flashing neon. Scooping
Akane's limp body into his arms he dashed toward a
possible refuge.
This can't be good...
******
******
Ten years of martial arts training had hardened
Ranma's body to almost inhuman perfection but Akane was
no lightweight and sprinting three blocks with her in his
arms left him winded. He paused a moment to catch his
breath before he took a good look at his surroundings.
*WOW!*
Either Ranma is nowhere *near* as jaded as he likes to act, or you need to
re-evaluate his rweaction to the Love Hotels. As I understand it, Love
Hotels are tacky and colourful all over Japan, not just Tokyo.
Feeling like he'd wandered into another world
Ranma gawked at giant fairy-tale castles, replicas of the Taj
Mahal and two Statues of Liberty. Across the street stood a
replica of the Imperial Palace in miniature and a Giant
Panda in top-hat-and-tails. And, no matter where Ranma
looked every visible surface was covered in neon and
mirrors that turned the street into a blaze of pink, green,
purple and orange.
Touts in shark-skin suits stood on every corner
extolling the virtues of their particular 'Leisure Hotel'.
'DIXY INN: The Real American Experience',
Ranma read, puzzling out the confusing mix of romanji and
kanji 'Have a good time from me.'
Is the misspelling of "Dixie" deliberate, here?
'Hotel Chezi Moi.'
'Body Sonic in each bed for a natural night.'
The flourescent ocean-scape that rippled across the
giant-TV wall began to make him a little nauseous.
Right next door was 'Little Chapel Christmas' hotel.
He figured Akane would like the free Santa Claus pajamas
and stuffed elf with glow-in-the-dark halo that came with
each room. But the robot Santa Claus in fishnet stockings
singing "Don't Dream it, Be it!" while nailed to a cross,
gave him the creeps and his eyes darted around looking for --
@_@';... That is hideous. Please tell me that you made that up. PLEEEZE!
(Lie to me if you need to!)
'Hotel J-Girl'
Tastefully covered with faux front of wood and
brick giving the rustic look of a mountain retreat, assuming
a mountain lodge would be outlined in flashing pink and
yellow neon, counterpointed with red and green airplane
strobe lights. That would have to do, and he darted into the
hotel, with Akane flopping limply in his arms. Against one
wall of the lobby was a bank of pictures, some dark, most lit
up, indicating a free room.
_Mermaid Room_
Nostalgically, Ranma recalled teaching the French
Ambassador's daughter to play the midnight flute in a hot
tub in Oman. Now _there_ was a girl who understood
breath control. With a sigh he rejected that choice. Being
around a couple of thousand gallons of _cold_ water from
the in-room swimming pool didn't seem like a good idea
right now.
It would bode ill for his scheme. Might be fun for the readers, though! ~_^
_First Place Indy Race_
Checkered-flag wall painting, formula-one bed - -
*Hey! Bumper Cars!*
Heeheehee! He's such a kid!
Ranma started to select that room, then noticed a
lighted picture two rows down, below the 'Big Bed' and
'Vietnam' rooms, showing a large heated spa in a room
made of chrome, leather and mirrors. Looking longingly at
the bumper cars he selected the spa-room instead, punching
the 'stay' button, rather than 'rest'. It was more expensive,
but Kunou was paying, he thought, walking to the bank of
elevators he could feel the fat bulge of the kendoists wallet
in his pocket. As the elevator took them up Ranma
wondered what the romanji 'Stylish SM' meant.
****
****
"Quit fight'n me, ya stoopid - - " Ranma winced as
another flailing fist caught him on the shoulder. Twisting
her arm behind her back with one hand he managed to
unfasten the last button on Akane's blouse and pull it free,
leaving her clad in panties and bra. "If we don't get ya
warmed up, you're gonna go inta shock!" Ranma stumbled,
sliding on the water slick floor as she shrugged him away.
"BAKA! You could die."
"Let me die," Akane moaned," Wrapping her arms
around her stomach and rocking back and forth. "Just let
me - - "
"Now, why do you want to say something stupid
like that?" Ranma asked in a soothing voice, changing his
speech to a smoother diction that invited confidences. With
his thumb and forefinger he moved the skin around her ear-
lobes in small circular patterns. Reacting to Ranma's
stimulation of her pressure points Akane's racing pulse
slowed and her blood-pressure dropped. Suddenly sleepy
she leaned back against Ranma, who subtly moved to
another nerve meridian.
"Now, why do you want to die?"
"I hurt him," Tears streamed down her face, cutting
a path through a mask of grime. "I _wanted_ to hurt him,
like he hurt . . .like he hurt . . ." A sob choked her.
"Like he hurt Nabiki-san?" Ranma asked softly,
making small circles on her back with the heel of his hand.
Dumbly she nodded, not noticing when he undid the
clasp on her brassier
"brassiere" you forgot the last 'e'.
and tossed it on the floor with the rest
of her clothes.
"Why does that make you feel bad?" He rested his
chin on her shoulder in a motion that looked romantic, but
whose purpose was to detect subtle variations in her Ki.
"It was _wrong_,' she wailed, broken hearted. "A
martial artist is supposed to p p protect."
"p-p-protect". forgot the dashes
"Well," Ranma remarked judiciously, "I think you
got that part down."
Akane twisted in his lap to look at him in disbelief.
"Well, Kunou . . .senpai isn't going to be causing
any trouble for a while," Ranma drawled, "and I'm pretty
sure his gang of samurai-wanna-bee's
"wannabees" or "wanna-bes"
are going to be
pissing themselves wondering if the next time they try to
push the 'New' Japan, the old Japan is going to turn around
and bite them on the behind." He grinned at her
openmouthed look and, taking advantage of her confusion,
whipped her panties down and off.
"Waaaaa," Akane squalled, hands flashing to cover
herself in the classic pose of a woman surprised. Before she
could recover and rip his head off, Ranma lowered her into
the hot water and turned on the bubble-jets.
"Aaaaaaa," Akane hissed in pleasure as the hot
water closed around her. "So," she said after a moment, not
able to meet his eyes, "you . . .don't think I acted
dishonorably?"
"Hmmmm . . .," Ranma propped his chin in his
hands, recalling the bleeding, sobbing, broken Kunou laying
in his own filth. "Nah. Kunou shouldn't have touched
Nabiki in the first place. And he shouldn't have just gone off
and left her." From the corner of his eye he watched some
of the tenseness leave her eyes and decided he was on the
right track.
"But I _enjoyed_ it," Akane protested, wanting
assurance she wasn't a monster. "I went after him and - - "
"All Kunou had to do was apologize," Ranma
stopped her, "and maybe give a little 'gift' to Nabiki,"
maybe not so little, Ranma considered, recalling the smear
of blood he'd seen on the kitchen wall, "but Kunou
_wanted_ to fight. Hell, he threatened to go after Kasumi-
san and your pop. And when he drew steel on you," Ranma
shrugged, "he deserved whatever he got."
"I . . .I said an awful thing," Akane said meekly.
"Well, yeah," Ranma grimaced, "You can't go
around calling people bura. . ." his mouth twisted sourly.
"you just can't _do_ that."
Akane nodded miserably.
"You're going to have to apologize to Kunou for
that, probably a full temple ceremony."
While this may well be realistic, as a Westerner, I've gotta say-
"Priorities, people!"
Akane nodded again, downcast.
"Well," Ranma squeezed her shoulder comfortingly,
"just let this be a lesson to control your temper before you
get into real trouble."
"Anyway,"Ranma decided to change the subject,
"where did you learn the Meteor-Hammer? That was a nifty
trick to pull. Something your father taught you?" he asked
casually, hoping to find out if Akane had any other little
surprises tucked away, like poison-darts or a sleeve cannon.
"Oh, that," Akane leaned back till the bubbling
water came up to her chin.
"Yeah, _that_!"
"Well, Nabiki was making me watch this awful
kung-phooy movie, you know the kind," she gestured with
her hands, "where they swordfight standing on the backs of
galloping horses and run along the sides of walls?"
Ranma nodded, then realized she couldn't see him
with her eyes closed. "Uh-huh."
"Well, she balked at the stuff an actor was doing
with a chain, and I said she was the _only_ one doing real
martial arts, and one thing lead to another . . ." Akane
shrugged, palms out.
"So you showed her how it was done?"
"Not exactly. I got a chain from the doujou. And
destroyed the sitting room." She winced in memory. "It was
years before Nabiki forgave me for destroying the TV in the
middle of Godzilla vs. Monster Zero." Akane shifted to a
more comfortable position. "But it made me mad that she
wouldn't believe me, so I started practicing until I was as
good as the movie actor."
That made sense. Of a sort. Then something
occurred to him. "Uhhh . . .how old were you when you
started practicing?"
"Hmmmm," Akane said drowsily, "about seven."
"Why don't you compete in weapons?" Almost
eight years with the Meteor-Hammer? He wondered what
else he didn't know about her.
"I'm too slow on my feet. But I demonstrate the
'Fire-Hammer' at festivals." Akane's body relaxed in the
hot water and a soft buzz slipped from her lips as she fell
asleep.
*Oh joy!*, Ranma thought darkly, imaging Akane
swinging flaming iron pots on the end of a chain. *Do you
want your baka mashed or extra crispy?*
Once again, Ranma's constant horrified surprise at Akane's skill level
grates a little bit. Shouldn't he have reconciled himself to it yet?
He suddenly
recalled Kasumi and the street-rats who'd broken in while
she was cooking.
*Ouch!*
What th' hell was up with these Tendou women and
burning oil?
More than he'd know, bearing in mind the incident with Mrs. Tendou and the
Vice-Principal...
Ranma made a firm mental note to keep Akane
away from weapons in the future. Recalling her improvised
trick with belt and scarf, he considered the possibility of
keeping her naked, but rejected that as impractical. Besides,
if today worked out as it should, he wouldn't have to worry
about her temper, for a while at least. Making sure she was
dozing, he scooped her clothes off the floor and tip-toed
into the main room.
He pressed a button and a few minutes later there
was knock at the door. At Ranma's assent, the door
unlocked, to show a young man in the mustard-yellow
uniform of the hotel staff.
"Take these," Ranma shoved the bundle of Akane's
clothes into the man's hands. "and get 'em cleaned an'
pressed."
"Yes sir," the boy, whose ID read 'DAIKI',
answered crisply. He looked at the wisp of white cotton
peeking from the bundle, then at Ranma, with a knowing
leer in his eyes.
Ranma pulled a 100 yen coin from his pocket and
flipped it in the air. "You like workin' here?" he asked,
while the coin was in the air.
Daiki started to nod, then froze as Ranma caught the
coin and bent it in half between his thumb and forefinger.
"You like walkin' upright?" Ranma asked conversationally,
tucking the coin in the boy's shirt pocket.
"Then don't be thinkin' no dirty thoughts." The look
in Ranma's eyes could have cut steel and Daiki felt his
knees start to buckle. "Never mind," Ranma said abruptly,
"Trash that stuff," he dug Kunou's wallet out of his pocket
and peeled off a wad of Yen.
"Go buy all new stuff," Ranma didn't want Akane
wearing anything this little pervert had touched. "Good
stuff," he ordered, stuffing the currency on top of the coin.
"Take the old stuff to a good store an' get a sales lady to
pick out the best they got an' use this for size. An' keep
your hands off it. Have 'em double wrap it in th' store.""
He pulled some bills off the roll and showed them to the
pale young man. "There's fifty-thousand Yen, if you do a
good job."
"Y . . .yessir," Daiki snapped, greed overcoming
fear. "I'll be back in less than an hour."
"You'll be back when I ask for you," Ranma
corrected.
"Yes. Sir." the boy answered faintly, standing at
attention until the door clicked shut, then dashing off.
That was one problem taken care of, Ranma
thought. The door locked from the outside until you paid
the bill. Akane couldn't leave, or even get dressed, so he
had a captive audience. Now, for step two.
Rummaging through the well stocked closet he
picked out a ruffled pajama-shirt that he judged should fall
just below the curve of Akane's buttocks. Judiciously he
popped off a couple of buttons, then pulled it from the rack.
A beeping light announced the garment had been added to
his bill. Discarding the pants as useless he jammed the door
shut, in case Akane decided to look for other clothing.
Tossing the bit of silk on the bed he headed for the
small en-suite kitchen and began the next phase. Heating
water in the microwave he added sugar to make simple-
syrup to which he added club-soda, juice from a whole lime
and a jigger of vodka which he got from an ever-present
vending machine set into the wall. All of this he poured over
crushed ice, then tasted. Perfect. Unless you were a regular
drinker, you'd never taste the vodka.
Thoughtfully Ranma added another half-jigger of
spirits. Coupled with the stress of the day and the soak in
very hot water, this would leave Akane relaxed and
suggestible. Finished with his preparations Ranma took time
to look around the room carefully, and discovered why this
was the 'Stylish SM' room. Consideringly, he hefted a set of
silver- plated leg-irons, mink-lined for comfort.
Safe sex...
****
****
"Time ta get out, sleepy head."
Akane mumbled something, then roused slightly.
Opening her eyes she squealed and jerked back to see
Ranma looming over her, holding out a glass.
"Oh . . .oh, sorry," She blushed at having acted like
a silly girl.
"Drink this, ya need the electrolytes."
"Thanks." Greedily she downed the contents in two
big gulps. "That . . .that was good," Akane started to get
up, then sat back down, feeling a little woozy.
"Ummm . . .if you'll hand me my clothes I'll get
dressed."
"You're stuff was a mess," Ranma said, handing her
a towel mater-of-factly. "I sent it out to be cleaned." He
watched Akane's face carefully, as she realized she had no
clothes and no money, then added casually. "I got th' hotel
to lend you a robe while you're waitin'." He jerked his
thumb at the garment he'd tossed over a chair. "I got us
sumthin' to eat. Maybe there's a movie or something on TV
while we wait."
Rule forty-four: *Seduction is less fatiguing than
rape, plus they fix you breakfast in the morning.*
I don't know whether to laugh or cry...
Akane relaxed at Ranma's matter-of-fact attitude, as
he knew she would, and cautiously got out of the tub, still
feeling a little dizzy, but wonderfully relaxed after her long
soak. Drying quickly she pulled on the robe, but was
dismayed to find that it was so short that the ruffled hem
just tickled her bottom. And if she pulled it down, the
gaping top exposed the curve of her bosom. With some
trepidation she walked into the other room, forced to take
short mincing steps to keep from exposing herself.
"Uhhh . . .hi," she said softly, feeling suddenly shy
and vulnerable.
"Foods over there,"
"Food's", since you're contracting "The food is". Rule of thumb for the
apostrophe: use only for possessives and contractions.
Ignoring the ting of pink in her
cheeks Ranma jerked a thumb at a tray of cheese and
crackers by the bed. He made a final adjustment to the
television controls and Akane gasped as the walls of the
room seemed to vanish, replaced by breakers rolling onto a
beach at twilight.
"This is all I can find, right now," Ranma lied,
knowing the soothing, seductive beach scene would play
until he changed it.
"Uhhh . . .that's fine," Akane stuttered, looking for a
chair. Ranma would have been very surprised if she'd found
one after he went to the trouble of hiding them in a closet.
After a moment Akane gave up, settling on the edge of the
bed. A little experimentation showed her the only safe way
to sit was with her legs curled to one side. As long as she
didn't take any deep breaths, she should be alright.
They sat in companionable silence for a while,
Akane nibbling on treats that Ranma off-handedly fed her as
he talked about training under Genma, making her laugh
with some of the stories he told on himself. Occasionally his
hand brushed against her bare skin and the first time this
happened she jumped as if hit with an electric shock. Since
Ranma never seemed to notice, she gradually relaxed,
finding she liked this casual intimacy. She'd never had a
'pal' before and despite being a jerk sometimes, Ranma was
nice to be around. He shifted in the bed, his thigh accidently
brushed her leg and she could feel the heat of his body
through the thin silk of his pants.
Maybe 'nice' wasn't quite the right word. She felt
uncomfortably warm and took another sip of the wonderful
drink he kept pouring for her; Nimbu Pani Punch he called
it.
"Is it me you hate? Or marriage in general." Ranma
asked casually, handing her a bit of cheddar as he lounged
beside her, eyes closed.
"Whaaa . . .?" she gasped, choking as she tried to
swallow and breathe at the same time. "What are you
talking about?"
"Jus' wonderin'," he remarked, snagging a cracker,
hiding a grin as she washed down the cheese with another
slug of 'fruit punch'.
"I don't hate you," she said finally, feeling a little
woozy. It was so hot. She undid a button on her robe,
fanning her heated skin with the edge.
"That's good."
Ranma lay there in silence until Akane felt forced to
speak. "What . . .what made you bring up marriage?"
"Nuthin'," Ranma replied. "I just guess I've been
thinkin' . . ." he trailed off and shifted away from her.
Unfortunately this caused the bed to dip and rolled Akane
against him, until the entire bare length of her leg was
pressed against him. Dimly she realized the hem of her robe
had ridden up, but she couldn't quite figure out what to do
about it.
"Thinking?" She prompted, opening another button,
slightly aggrieved that Ranma didn't seem to be feeling the
heat.
"Yeah," Ranma rolled toward her and she gulped as
she realized that his shirt had come open. Maybe he was
feeling the heat she thought, looking at his hard masculine
chest. "I been thinkin' that you were probably right, not to
want to marry me."
"I was right?," Akane said, feeling a little dazed as
she breathed in his warm masculine scent. "About what?"
"About me bein' a loser. An' a jerk."
"You're not!" she cried, dismayed that she could
have said something so cruel. She tried to shake some sense
into him, but her muscles seemed to have turned to butter
and she only succeeded in falling on top of him.
"You're not a jerk," she mumbled against the side of
his neck as she tried to push upright.
"Ya don't need me," he remarked calmly, helping
her until she lay snuggled against his side. "You're a good
martial artist an' ya learn quick. You should wait until you
find some nice college boy. Someone who dresses nice and
talks good."
"Never!" She exclaimed, hating this unknown boy
already. "I like . . .I like you!" She tried to kiss him,
showing a great deal of enthusiasm, but little technique.
"No ya don't," he gently pushed her away until he
could look her in the eyes. "I'm not a good guy."
Rule Seventy-one: *Confess how 'bad' you are, and
they'll think you're a saint.*
Question: Have you been keeping track of these? Wouldn't want to duplicate
the numbers on 'em...
"Yes, yes you are!"
"I planned this," his hand swept the room, "your
clothes weren't that bad, An' I bribed the boy ta not let ya
have any clothes until I said different."
"You did?"
"Yeah. An' I ditched th' pants to that," he nodded at
her half unbuttoned shirt, "and popped off a couple o'
buttons."
"Why?" Her slightly unfocused gaze held honest
puzzlement.
" I hadda crazy idea that I could make ya fall for
me."
"How?"
"Well," he pulled a set of restraints from under the
bed. "I was gonna tie you to th' bed and . . .uhhhh . . ."
Akane watched in fascination as a tinge of red crept
up from under his collar and slowly suffused his face. Then
she realized what he dangled from one hand and felt her
face heat.
"What were you going to do?" her voice came out a
squeak.
"Uhhhh . . ." Ranma fiddled with his pigtail. "I was
gonna . . ." he jiggled the mass of leather and metal in his
hand. "an' . . .uhhhh . . .I was gonna . . .
teasyauntilyabeggedtomarryme," he got out in a rush.
Akane licked suddenly dry lips, staring at the
bondage equipment in fascination. "Can you . . .is that . .
.how . . .?"
"Heh," Ranma gave a nervous laugh. "Well, uhhh . .
. when ya' can't move I can sorta . . .uhhhh . . .using
pressure points an' . . . .uhhhh . . .after a while ya can't
stand it no more. And then . . .uhhh . . .I was gonna," he
gulped, his face turning a fiery red, "I was gonna . . .I was
gonna make love to ya until you passed out. An while you
were all kinda sleepy and confused I was gonna take us to
th' wedding chapel downstairs and marry you." He pulled a
slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and thrust
it at Akane. "You probably better keep this."
"It's a marriage license," she peered at the paper,
which seemed a little blurry.
"Yeah, your Pop and mine got it right after we got
there. I kinda been holdin' on to it . . .well, I just been
holdin' on to it." He rolled off the bed and went to the
phone. "I better call about your clothes and we can go.
Sorry about all this. It's not right of me ta' take advantage
of ya just 'cause you're a girl."
"Wait!" she squeaked. It was so warm it was hard
for her to think. She gulped down some more fruit punch.
Things were happening too fast. She wasn't sure what she
wanted to do, but . . . "Just wait a minute," she begged,
holding her head in her hands. Something peculated through
her sluggish brain. "Wha . . .what do you mean jush . . .just
a girl!" She lurched to her feet, then fell back on the bed.
"I'm a mar-shal . . . mar-shel . . . I can fight!" She glared
blearily at Ranma. "I accept your challenge!"
"What challenge?" Ranma said easily.
What challenge? Akane blinked, mind working.
"Uhhhh . . . what makes you think I'd fall for _you_!" She
snapped her fingers at him, but they slid soundlessly across
one another. She stared, puzzled, at her fingers, trying
several more times before giving up the effort. "You've
have a lot of nerve," she enunciated carefully, "think . . .ing
that you can beat me so easily."
"What are you saying?" Ranma asked, his voice very
neutral.
Rule eighty-eight: *Always make them think it was
their idea to give you the deed to the ranch and their virgin daughter.*
"I . . ." what was she saying? She wished he
wouldn't lean so close, it made it hard to think. She took a
gulp of punch in an effort to clear her head. "I . . ."
"You think you wouldn't fall for my technique? That
you could resist me, no matter what I did?"
"That's rike . . .right!" she said brightly, glad that
she'd taken the time to explain it all to him. "No matter
what you did."
"Okay."
Okay!" she agreed. "Uhhhh . . .Okay what?"
"If you lose, you have to marry me."
"Marry . . .what?" She wanted to lie down. The
room was spinning and she couldn't quite figure out . . .
"I'll try to seduce you." Ranma said softly, his
breath against her skin making her shiver. "If I win, you
have to marry me. Now. Today."
"But . . ." her mind felt squishy and it was hard for
her to think. But one very important thing did come to
mind. "How . . .how do we know who . . .who won?"
"Well," he trailed the back of his fingers along the
outside of her leg, "How about this. I have to make you beg
me to make love to you."
"Wh . .what?" she gulped the last of the punch.
"You're right. That's too easy."
"Why you - - " she was momentarily paralyzed with
outrage. That was the only thing that saved his life. She
couldn't believe she had ever thought she lo - - liked this
. . . this _boy_!
"You've got to beg three times. I think that's fair."
Akane could hear the 'even for a girl like you' in his tone of
voice and her blood began to boil.
"Why you . . .I accept your challenge."
Ranma looked at her a moment, then burst out
laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"If you could have _seen_ your face!" he sobered at
her look. "I'm sorry. I was just kiddin'."
"Kidding!" She was so angry she thought she was
going to explode. "Kidding!"
"Yeah. It ain't fair to ask you ta do something like
that. Just because I lo - - it ain't right to ask you to get
married just because you lose a bet."
Akane caught his almost slip and flushed, feeling
whipsawed by her emotions. "You lo - - what makes you
think I'd lose?"
"It ain't your fault. Girls are just . . .they can't resist
mushy stuff, that's all." he explained, not unkindly. "They
just ain't built for it like guys are. It wouldn't be fair."
"Not built . . .resist . . .girls . . ."Akane stuttered in
her fury. "Alright. What do I get if - - when I win?"
"Huh?" Ranma seemed stunned for a minute.
"Alright, what do you want?"
"Uhhhhh . . ." Akane froze, unable to think of
anything. She stared at him, trying to come up with
something he might have. But the more she looked, the
more she
wanted . . . she shook her head violently, trying to rid
herself of an unwanted image of licking Ranma like an ice
cream cone. "I . . .when I win, I'll want you to do
something for me."
"What?" Ranma asked interestedly.
"I don't know. Something."
"Alright. If you win, I'll do whatever you ask me to,
if I can."
"Alright." Akane paused. "Uhhhh . . .Now what?"
"Now?" Ranma smiled and Akane shivered at the
look in his eyes, wondering why she felt this funny little
flutter in her tummy. "Just lie back and relax."
Akane did as requested and felt something go
around her right wrist with a click. She jerked away, only to
be brought up short by the manacle securing her to the wall.
While she was distracted Ranma quickly pulled her left arm
taut and secured it to the opposite eye-bolt.
"Just relax," Ranma said soothingly as he slid down
the bed to take both of her ankles in his hand. Gently he
separated her legs, buckling a broad leather band attached
to a chromed steel bar to each ankle. A similar bar was
fastened to her knees, and a final, thicker if shorter bar
secured her thighs.
"Comfortable?" he asked solicitously.
Comfortable wasn't the word she would have
chosen. She gingerly tugged on the chains holding her arms.
There was tiny metallic rattle, but it felt like the other end
was bolted to bedrock and she couldn't budge. The cool
leather around her ankles had quickly warmed and softened,
but the steel bars held her powerful legs apart, as if she were
imbedded in concrete, making her feel helpless and
vulnerable.
"Uhhhh . . .sure. Not a problem." she hoped there
wasn't a quaver in her voice. She was going to show him - -
"What are you _doing_!" she shrieked, jerking up, going
only a fraction of an inch before being yanked back down
onto the mattress by her bonds.
"Just testing," Ranma replied blandly, running a
finger-nail lightly around the tender skin under her knee.
"You can't move at all, can you?"
"Uhhhh . . .no," she replied in a very small voice.
She was beginning to think this had been a mistake. When
Ranma pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, she was sure
of it.
Ranma propped himself on one elbow beside her,
the grin fading from his face as he took in her look of deadly
serious concentration.
"Ummmm . . .you should have gone before we got
started." he said after a moment of contemplative silence.
"I don't have to - - -just get on with it Akane
snapped." glaring at him fiercely. Well, as fiercely as
possible when you're tied naked to a bed and have suddenly
realized that perhaps you shouldn't have had that last glass
of punch.
"Yes you do," he teased, "fortunately this bed has a
rubber mattress cover." He took advantage of her gasp of
outrage to lower his mouth over hers for a teasing kiss. She
didn't seem to have any idea of what to do with her lips or
teeth or tongue. And she almost bit his tongue off by
accident. What he hoped was an accident.
"Ummm," he pulled back, eying her narrowly, "you
_have_ done this before?"
"What? Kissed?" She laughed, scornfully.
"Certainly, dozens of times. Hundreds."
Eying her skeptically he thought that might be true,
depending on how many uncles and maiden aunts she had.
"How many boys have you been with. Kempo competition
doesn't count." He added quickly as she opened her mouth
to answer. There was silence.
"None?" he said weakly. "Just a quick slap and
tickle in the locker room?"
Akane stared stonily at the ceiling.
"Ummmm . . ." how to put this, he wondered,
"when I said I was going to tease you until you begged . . .
what are you going to beg for?"
Akane bit her lip, blushing slightly.
*Oh boy* "When I said we were going to make . . .
uhhhh . . .do you know where babies come from?"
"Oh yes," Akane said, happy at knowing the answer
to a question. "The hospital."
Ranma felt his jaw drop as Akane burbled on, in a
vodka induced euphoria.
"Papa told me all about it. When a man and a
woman love each other Kami-sama blesses them with a baby
that combines their love and then - - -"
"Do you," he stopped her with a finger against her
lips, "Know anything about . . .sex?"
"Ohhhhh," Akane said, understanding dawning. "Of
course. Moeko always lets me read her Doujinshi when
she's through with them."
"Oh, well, that's fine," Ranma started, feeling
relieved. Pornographic manga were great teaching aids.
Then he remembered that Doujinshi were - -
" . . .know all about 'throbbing man-meat' and
'velvet covered steel' and 'going in the back door' and . . ."
- - -homoerotica.
I have dozens of doujin that say you're wrong, or at least, not 100% right.
There are doujin for every kink under the sun, but mostly bondage,
lesbianism and homoerotica. A lot of "straight" sex, too. Now it's
concievable that the only doujin Akane (and Nabiki's friends in the earlier
chapter) might have read would be the gay ones, but Ranma, being a "man of
the world" wouldn't say that all doujin were homoerotica. Perhaps "Then he
remembered that doujinshi, at least, *girl's* doujinshi, were-"
<snip>
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Taking a deep
breath he decided he'd treat this like he was learning a new
technique. Virgin-fu? The Cherry-fist?
Sakura-ken!
<snip>
"I don't!" She wailed, bursting into laughter as he
teased a tender spot under her knee.
"This little fellow say different," he flicked one rock-
hard nipple with the end of his finger and was rewarded
with a full throated scream as Akane's body formed a
perfect bow as she arched off the bed. Picking himself off
the floor Ranma shook his head, a bit dazed, and watched as
Akane vibrated in the throes of a powerful climax.
@_@ Wound a little tightly, isn't she? My, my, my...
<snip>
"Please . . .mmmmphhh . . ." she sucked in her
breath as he teased her navel with the melting ice. "P . . .
pppplease - - "
"Say it, or this is goin' south," he drew a teasing line
with the ice.
Hahaaha! VERY nice.
<snip>
Akane woke with a groan, feeling like the time she'd
discovered that breaking concrete blocks with your head is
harder than it looks on TV. Her mouth tasted like the inside
of a locker room and she ached in places she was quite sure
good girls shouldn't know they had. Making a face she
started to go brush her teeth, only to be brought up with a
jerk.
"What!" She glared at the chains on her wrists, then
fell back with a groan as she remembered. Everything. *I
must have been _crazy_!* A rasping sound, like a band-saw
cutting through sheet-metal got her attention and Akane
twisted around to see Ranma, snuggled up against her, one
arm around her chest, the other nestled between her legs,
cupping her possessively. She felt her body burn as more
and more details returned.
He had . . .and then she had . . .but then they both . . .
*Oh boy.*
Uh-oh...
Then she remembered what had happened next - -
*Oh BOY!*
Uh-oh!
<snip>
"Time to wake up sleepy head," a gentle voice
cooed in his ear.
"Five more min's Pop," he mumbled into his pillow,
batting at the voice.
"If you do this sort of thing with your father, you're
more perverted that I thought."
Ranma jerked up, like he was spring operated.
"And I think you're pretty perverted." Akane
handed Ranma a cup of coffee, her face expressionless, then
retreated to the far side of the room.
Looking at the foot of the bed Ranma could see bent
and twisted aluminum bars, one snapped in half, laying in a
tangle of torn leather bands. Wildly he looked for the
manacles, finding them twisted into ruin, chunks of concrete
and rebar still attached to one short length of chain. Were
those _teeth_ marks? He looked up to see Akane smiling at
him, showing a row of small, white _strong_ teeth, and he
gulped nervously.
"You put something in my drink, didn't you," Akane
asked, rhetorically. "When I woke up I felt like I did after I
got into daddy's 'medicine' when I was little."
"Urrrrk!" Ranma replied, intelligently.
"Drink your coffee," Akane ordered and he gulped
the scalding brew, wondering briefly if she'd mistaken
furniture polish for the coffee. Over the rim of his cup he
watched her stretch, then move forward with the ponderous
grace of a tigress, muscles rippling like corded steel under
her skin.
"You got me drunk," Akane took a step and Ranma
scooted back on the bed, trying to marshal his sleep fuddled
thoughts. "Got me naked," another step, and her eyes
narrowed measuringly. For a burial shroud? Ranma
wondered shakily. "Tied me to the bed," her voice was a
husky growl, "made me _beg_," Ranma saw his life pass
before him and realized it was much too short. Especially
the last couple of hours. "BEG," she hissed, and he could
smell mint on her breath, "Call you _master_, - - "
"I can explain," Ranma said weakly, trying to think
of something that would buy him time to get to the door.
Then remembered it was locked from the outside.
*oh shit*
Akane leapt, her naked form a blur as she tackled
him and he wondered if it would hurt much when she ripped
off his arms and legs.
"And I LIKED it!" She grinned an _evil_ grin. And
as she straddled his trussed form Ranma realized Nabiki and
Akane had watched at least one movie featuring Hojojutsu,
the feudal art of restraining prisoners, quickly, with rope.
<claps hands twice> Poor Ranma, we hardly knew ye...
<snip>
Daiki's eyes snapped open, forcing him from a
beautiful fantasy where a muscular goddess forced him to
kneel, naked except for a puce rubber shower cap with
yellow daisies, and lick fish paste from her vinyl-boots.
@_@
<snip>
"Hmmmm," Akane rummaged through what she'd
dubbed the 'toy chest', pulling out what looked like a tiny
plastic phallus, ignoring the little beeping light that charged
the cost to the room account. Turning it over in her hands
she jumped with a little squeak when it started vibrating
with a musical buzzing sound.
"Oooooo, now what can we do with this?" Akane
asked rhetorically, since all Ranma could do was
'mmmmph' frantically through his gag, shaking his head as
Akane moved to stand over him.
Oh, gods... Y'know, the little shit deserves this...
Interesting chapters, and it's nice to see some progress being made in
Ranma's scheme- I was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to make a
move. Nice to see you writing again, and I'm glad things have calmed down a
bit in RL. Hope this was helpful!
Dave Menard
"I Haven't Had This Much Fun Since The Pigs Ate My Brother!"
-Ootaki, OMG
New Website!
http://members.rogers.com/spghome/index.html
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