The Best of Times…
By Ozzallos
A Fukufics (dotcom) Production
Part 2
Setsuna
Meiou paced in front of the time gates, clad in functional, yet revealing body
armor that made up her Sailor Pluto persona. Body armor was perhaps too
generous of a term for the short, tight black and white fuku
she now wore, but after centuries of use, she was all but oblivious to the
fact. Even if she were somehow self conscious of the garb she now wore, only
one thing occupied her mind at present.
Ranma Saotome was SO going to pay.
The fact that he was able to gain access to her home was
disconcerting enough, but he shouldn’t have even known she existed, let
alone know where to find her… Or that she was deathly afraid
of cockroaches. The last thought caused a shiver to ripple through her
body and she forced her attention back to the time gates in front of her.
Knowing her most deep seated phobia pointed to a level of knowledge that should
have been well beyond the martial artist’s ability to obtain, especially since
the two people who did know were dead right along with the Silver Millennium.
It also begged the question of exactly how much he did know? Either way, one thing was obvious: Mister Saotome
obviously had too much free time on his hands. An evil smile cracked Sailor
Pluto’s normally emotionless mask. So he wants to play on my fears, hmmm? She
adjusted the time flow of the gates to just the right moment and the evil smile
grew.
Time to teach Ranma Saotome that you don’t screw
with the Mistress of Time.
By any measure it had been a good day for Ranma
Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts. Which
is to say it had actually been a very bad one. He had come to
realize early on that any good day for him meant that there was a woeful
imbalance of karma in the universe and sooner or later his person would be the
conduit to bring it back into balance in a most unpleasant manner. Akane was
happy today, which was a bad sign. She had even been humming on their way to
school, which by Ranma’s standard was the herald to the Four Horsemen of the
Apocalypse. He had not been splashed once by cold water, which probably meant
the seas would be overflowing with blood soon enough, and Nabiki even gave him
a pass today. Ranma was certain that if he looked up into the sky he would not
only find a total eclipse of the sun, but a burning two hundred mile wide
meteor poised to smite all of mankind for its trespasses. Or maybe it was just
all in his head. After all, it’s only paranoia if nobody is out to get you. Which they usually were. ‘They’ being any number of
people, in Ranma’s case.
He was almost relieved to find out Akane was cooking since
Kasumi was on a date with Doc Tofu. Ranma would take his punishment like a man
and karma would be brought back into alignment for nothing more than a
stomachache and a week’s worth of indigestion. It was a fair compromise in his
opinion. Better him take the karmatic
bullet than watch as all of civilization collapsed around him simply because he
couldn’t stomach Akane’s cooking. Of course, sometimes
it fought back harder than Ryoga, but then the life of a martial artist is
fraught with peril, right?
A smiling Akane sat the dish down in front of him and Ranma
knew he was in trouble. She had mentioned that she was making chow mein and what was on the plate actually looked like
chow mein. His sense of dread grew exponentially at
the realization that she had really cooked something that bore a superficial
resemblance to its namesake. All eyes were on him of course, being the official
Tendo sacrificial lamb. He was their canary in the coalmine, because if he
keeled over, the food was undoubtedly toxic and not to be touched under any
circumstances by the rest of the family. In fact, his fits of agony would
probably provide the perfect distraction by which to escape their evil
daughter’s culinary masochism. Ranma steeled himself and took the first bite of
noodles. His life flashed before his eyes and he knew it with certainty…
They were all gonna die.
It would be a sick and painful death, undoubtedly riddled with
screaming torture and anguish. It would be suffering on a magnitude never
before seen, unimaginable in its scope. And just how did Ranma Saotome know
such a hideous fate awaited him? Quite easily, actually.
The food was good.
Akane looked at him with The Question sparkling in her eyes.
The Question, if answered incorrectly held the promise of swift and painful
retribution, as to insult her cooking was akin to insulting life itself… Which it sometimes was, as Ranma had observed from her past
attempts to bend and twist the very fabric of culinary reality whenever she
manned the kitchen. The rest of the family also looked upon him with The
Question. Their responses, however, would be quite different if Ranma keeled
over within the next five minutes; Probably along the
lines of taking iodine tablets and breaking out the biohazard gear that was
normally left collecting dust in the hall closet. Even Kasumi was not so
foolish as to take a bite on the promise of Akane’s
good will alone. No, it wasn’t an acquired taste. It was as if the youngest
sister’s cooking mutated like a virus to ensure that it would not only continue
to taste bad, but inflict severe hemorrhaging on the unfortunate victim who
managed to ingest it. Few realized that was, in fact, the real reason Kasumi
Tendo studied medicine as a hobby. Finding a cure to Akane’s
cooking would be worthy of a Nobel Prize in and of itself.
“Well?”
Ranma considered his fiancee’s
question as he swallowed. “Um, it’s good.”
The family blinked. Impossible. “Then
what’s the matter?” Akane asked with a perturbed edge in her voice. It was all
but impossible to miss the pigtailed boys anxiety.
Normally it would have been directed squarely at her masterpiece, but today her
assumption was totally incorrect. Ranma was about to answer when a knocking at
the door was heard. Ranma’s sense of dread deepened. He knew what was at the
door.
Karma.
And it had just come home to roost.
“Oh, I’ll get it.” Kasumi stated happily, rising from the
dinner table. Ranma really wished she wouldn’t, and his eyes tracked her with
nervous apprehension. It was like some sadistic game show, and Ranma knew
exactly what was behind door number one. Not its contents per se, but given how
well the day had gone so far, it just couldn’t be good. In fact, it was
probably the embodiment of all life consuming evil at this point, especially
with Akane’s cooking having been palatable. Whatever
it was, her cooking actually being edible was like pulling the pin on a live
grenade. Kasumi opened the gateway to karmatic
balance and a new voice was heard.
“Um, hello. Would this happen to be the Saotome
residence?” The speaker might have easily been a relative of Dotor Tofu, save the cigarette hanging from his mouth and
disheveled white lab coat draping across his person. He adjusted his round
glasses absently.
“No, this is the Tendo residence,” Kasumi corrected with a
smile. “but the Saotomes are
currently staying with us.” She then looked around the man and found a small
boy and a teenage girl standing behind him. The boy she wasn’t sure about, but
a teenage girl with dark pink hair and a grin the size of
Doctor Kyuusaku Natsume
blinked. “As a matter of fact…”Kasumi nodded and led them in as if it
were an everyday fact of life, which it was. Another fiancée in Ranma’s life
was as natural as the dawn of a new day to the residents of the Tendo Dojo. At
least this particular fiancée appeared to have some sort of modesty. After all,
most of his fiancées seemed to arrive in various states of undress, not
conservative school uniforms.
“Ranma, there’s a new fiancée here to see you.” The trio
stopped short behind Kasumi and Ranma sighed standing up from the table. He
cast his own withering sidelong glance at the panda before turning back to
their new guests.
“Alright, what’d he sell me for this time?”
The mangled cigarette in the doctor’s mouth twitched slightly.
The fact that Nuku Nuku
would be a “new” fiancée wasn’t lost on him. Still, it hardly mattered. This
would be an excellent social experience for the android designated NK1124,
which was the entire point of the engagement to begin with. “Hmmm, if I recall
correctly… Wait, let me check.” Kyuusaku dug a folded
piece of paper from the lab coat and stared at it. “Ah! I cleared his bar tab
for the engagement to one Ranma Saotome. Is that you?”
Ranma stared at the doctor, then the smiling girl who was
practically jumping out of her skin. The boy at the doctor’s side simply
watched with wide-eyed curiosity as the events around him continued to unfold.
His eyes flicked back to the girl. There was something vaguely disquieting
about her. “Yeah, it’s me.” He took the contract and studied it for a bit
before handing it off to Nabiki.
The middle Tendo studied it herself and nodded. “Yep. It’s legit.” As if that was her cue, the new fiancée
in question squealed in delight as she bounced past her father and pounced onto
Ranma with glee.
“Yay! Nuku
Nuku has husband now! Reow!”
Nuku pinned her husband to be onto the floor and gave
him a lick on the cheek. Now up close and personal, Ranma stared into her eyes
and it all snapped into place.
“Cu-Cu-Cu-…” Ranma studdered
as Nuku Nuku’s smile
widened, revealing a cute pair of fangs. For Ranma, they were far from cute.
They merely severed to complete the illusion he was absolutely terrified of.
“Cu… CAAAAAAaaaaATTTT!” Ranma squirmed in an attempt to break free of the girl,
which took some effort as she weighed several times his body mass. Free himself
he did and the chase was on, Ranma bolting out of the house with a
super-powered android cat girl in hot pursuit. She was more than happy to
oblige her new husband, who obviously enjoyed his playtime as much as she did.
There was a dull crash from outside the house and the Tendo’s winced. More property damage. More fiancées.
What else could go wrong?
They really shouldn’t have asked.
It was one of Ranma’s worst nightmares come to
life. Somehow he had avoided falling into the influence of the Neko Ken; only barely and only because a new nightmare came
to take its place. Ranma eyes flicked around nervously. It was one of the more
worst-case scenarios he could have possibly imagine.
He was surrounded.
That in itself was nothing to a martial artist of his caliber.
He had been surrounded by ninja, phoenix people, demons and the like. That
wouldn’t come close to shaking his ever-present confidence. But the current
situation had. Badly. To his left
stood the Okanomiyaki Master herself, combat spatula
at the ready. To his right, one purple haired Chinese
Amazon, heiress to the Joketsuzoku Amazon tribe and
part time cat. Ranma shivered involuntarily. In front of him was Akane
Tendo, who like the other girls, just happened to
track him down at the most inopportune moment. Ranma had an answer for that
little bit of coincidence.
Pluto.
Behind him was the newest fiancée, the pink haired cat girl
that not only reminded him of a feline, but of an Amazon as well with her
simplistic command of the Japanese language and pinkish hair. A very, very bad combination. To round it all off, Kodachi
was balanced lightly on the rooftop above him in her rose embroidered leotard,
gymnastics ribbon floating lightly in evening breeze. Akane was there to exact
retribution for his two timing perverted ways. Shampoo was there to claim the
fiancée rightfully hers by Amazon law. Kodachi stood by as the only women regal
enough to claim the Soatome’s heart. Nuku Nuku was absolutely sure
this one was hers because he even reminded her of a cat, while Ukyo was on
scene because of her childhood friend and fiancée to be. Of course, they all
had one thing in common besides Ranma… Genma Saotome. Well, not Kodachi.
She was just plain insane. The pigtailed martial artists made it a mental note
to put his father on the list right behind Setsuna Meiou… That is if he ever
got out of the situation alive.
He couldn’t have known that Sailor Pluto picked this new
fiancée for a specific reason. Sure, she was a new fiancée, which would stir
the pot even more. Yes, there was the fact that she had the brain of a cat and
would terrify Ranma to no end. But that wasn’t the entire reason she went with
Atsuko Natsume as Ranma’s newest torment. Being a
cat-girl didn’t make her special. After all,
“I’ve aquired the target!” Kyouko confirmed from her tactical position behind the
pilot. “This is Poison Eight, requesting attack clearance!” The blonde flipped
a few switched on control board in front of her, anticipating the answer.
A feminine voice laced with steel crackled across the open
channel. “Is Ryu-chan nearby?”
“Negative!” Poison Eight’s weapon’s officer returned with
certainty.
“Then eliminate the NK 1124 with extreme predjudice!”
her boss’s voice was practically shrill now.
A sadistic grin slipped across the pilots face. “With pleasure, boss! Going weapons hot!” Not that Arisa would have needed attack clearance to loose copious
amounts of high explosive ordinance, Kyouko noted as the
brown haired pilot flipped her visor down in anticipation. Still, it was always
better to have the approval on record for both their sakes. And
careers.
Arisa shoved the throttle forward into the stops
and cackled manically as the fresh-off-the-line Poison Eight shot through the
night sky, descending onto its target. The gunship was the newest in Mishima Heavy Industries line of Close Air Support attack
aircraft. Held aloft by twin turbofan propulsion, the Poison line had the
distinct honor of having racked up more combat hours than any other production
aircraft built by Mishima, despite the fact that it
had never seen either mass production or a major conflict. It was also a
dubious honor that prototypes one through seven had been destroyed in the care of
corporate officers Arisa and Kyouko
while trying to neutralize the android designated NK 1124. Suffice to say, Arisa’s bloodthirsty tendencies concerning her target had
been honed to a fine edge.
Poison Eight had seen numerous enhancements since the mark one
originally rolled off the line, and its repeated losses to the android girl had
taught Mishima’s engineers a thing or two. Eight’s
primary armament had been upgraded significantly, opting for thirty decawatt plasma cannon instead of the traditional twenty
millimeter gatling gun
mounted under the nose. The designers figured that after watching the 1124’s
damage absorption abilities, they needed something that ensured whatever got
hit stayed down. Sure, it didn’t have the rate of fire the gatling gun had, but it was sledgehammer to be sure.
Likewise, every missile on the craft had been swapped out in favor of guided
fragmenting warheads, as direct hits with the armor piercing types had proven
impossible against such a nimble target. The logic was simple enough—carpet an
area with the new AX-15s and whatever you were trying to hit was bound to come
out peppered with fragmentation damage, hopefully slowing it down enough to get
in a few good shots with the plasma cannon.
None of this really mattered to Arisa
as she thumbed the orange guard that protected the trigger on her flight stick.
She was now one with Poison Eight and it was time for some long, long
overdue payback. “Multiple targets detected!” the blond called out as her scope
lit up with new energy readings. The pilot hesitate a moment, finger caressing
the weapons release trigger. “Six new signatures, one has a power level as high
as Kyusakuu’s android!”
“Another damn robot!” Arisa
snarled and thumbed the weapons select button over to the AX-15s. Her battle
cry roared through the cockpit.
“No survivors!”
Nuku Nuku heard it
first, a dull thumping that echoed through the night sky. Ranma hear it next
while the remaining fiancées remained oblivious in their standoff. He turned to
find Nuku no longer focused on him but at some point
in the distance. For her part, her cybernetically
assisted cat brain knew exactly what it was and she took up an attack stance to
counter the threat. Ranma, however, was at a loss. First, she was a cat girl,
the stuff of nightmares. Second she was reacting to a threat, no longer paying
attention to the escalation of fiancées. He hated cats with a passion and
fiancées were a pain, but through the panic churning within he knew that even
his cat-self intrinsically knew good from evil, even
if he wasn’t all their in thehead at the time.
Ranma’s 20/20 vision picked out the spec in the night sky, identifying it as
some sort of high tech aircraft.
The argument continued around him and the aircraft drew closer.
There was no mistaking where it was heading either. Nuku
tensed and puffs of smoke began pouring from the approaching gunship. Ranma
wasn’t the most technologically savvy, nor was he up to date on the latest
military hardware, so the term “guided missile” meant absolutely nothing to
him. The fact that there were now multiple high-speed
projectiles inbound for there position was not lost on him however, and
it didn’t take a genius to imagine their effects. Nuku
Nuku certainly wasn’t a genius, a fact that bode well
for the Saotome’s own mental process concerning the
inbound ordinance.
“Moko Takabisha!”
The feuding fiancées about fell over as the first ki bolt roared out and Nuku Nuku was already airborne and out fifty feet, landing
lightly on one of the streaking missiles before hoping onto the next one down
the line as if they were stepping stones to the new threat. Each hop
strategically knocked a missile off course, sending it harmlessly into a field
or abandoned building. Another ki-shot blasted out,
vaporizing any missile the cat girl had missed on her way to the gunship. Even
as panicked as the fiancées were by the sudden activity, it didn’t match what
was going on in the cockpit of Poison Eight at that exact same moment.
“Anti-aircraft fire, break right!” The blond screamed
and her pilot yanked the stick all the way over as two bright blue balls of
energy streaked by. Kyouko was expecting a lot of
things from this particular mission. Property damage?
Sure. A busted up Poison Close Air Support gunship? Probably.
An angry cat-girl android? Definitely.
But the last thing she was expecting was to actually have to power up the
Poison’s state of the art electronic countermeasures array to evade incoming
fire. “ECM online! Popping chaff and
flares!”
Arisa cursed profusely as she yanked the stick
back, lining the nose up for another shot. As if the super-powered 1124 wasn’t
bad enough, that damn scientist was now equipping his androids with
anti-aircraft weaponry! What was all that crap he spewed about not creating a
war machine, then? The heads up display began to sync up for a lock on the
anti-aircraft battery when a massive thud shook the craft
THWaaM!
“Are we hit!” Kyouko
squeeled then turned to see what Arisa
was already seeing—one highly annoyed cat-girl clad in a school uniform,
plastered against the canopy bubble. The deja’vu of
the situation didn’t go unnoticed by either corporate officer. Nuku Nuku apparently didn’t
notice as she began to head-butt the bulletproof glass, creating a sizable
crack on her second attempt. Nuku Nuku
reared her head back for a third strike when an even larger crash shook the
gunship. Arisa turned just in time to see a blue arc
lance through turbofan number two, shredding half the nacelle and destroying
its ability to generate lift. Arisa’s copilot saw it
as a mixed blessing. On one hand, the shock knocked the cat girl off their
nose. On the other hand… “Losing
power to number two! We’re on fire!”
Ranma Saotome stared at his handiwork as the aircraft burst
into flames. He hadn’t actually meant to hit the damn thing, but then it was
directly in line with the missiles. He was just wondering where the cat girl
went when she fell from her ballistic arc and landed hard, skidding across the
open ground, between the fiancees and strait into him
where her mass carried them fifty more feet before being rudely stopped by an
apartment building wall. Nuku Nuku
shook the rubble off her and stared at her new fiancée, who was also recovering
from the shock. He had caught her! What a nice husband!
“Reow!” She twiddled with delight
and crushed her fiancée in a hug. Between a new fiancée, a fiancée cat-girl,
the fiancée wars and a hostile aircraft, Ranma finally snapped as said cat-girl
applied her entire body to the martial artist, purring in the process.
The fiancées had recovered enough of their wits to tear
themselves away from the flaming gunship to the trench created by Ranma and Nuku, following it back to the pair. Needless to say, none
of them were too pleased by what they found. Akane gaped, finding the newest
fiancée hanging all over her fiancée. “What the hell do you think you’re
doing with her, Ranma?” The answer was unexpected.
“ReeeeeewwwOOOOOWWWWW….”
It was a testament to Arisa skills as
a test pilot that she was able to put Poison Eight down in one piece, tearing
up a Nerima street and several cars in the process. With Kyouko
having cut off fuel to fan number two, the flaming pylon had been reduced to an
angry smolder by the time the gunship had skidded to a full and complete stop.
She unbuckled her safety harness, only to find Arisa
already up and out of the grounded aircraft.
“Damn androids ruined ANOTHER gunship!” She fumed, wrenching a
latch and tearing open the cargo door. She began to pull pieces of composite
armor that vaguely resembled body parts out of the hold. “I will NOT have
another one these come out of my paycheck, dammit!”
She came back into Kyouko’s view wearing full power
armor, mounting wrist plasma devices, point defense weaponry on the shoulders
and blisters of mini missiles straddling her ribs and thighs. All and all, the
seven foot tall crimson red suit was quite an intimidating sight…
…Almost as intimidating as the one slinking into a crouch
twenty feet from her. Neko Ranma’s eyes glittered as
he stalked forward on light feet, eager to test out the new toy in front of
him. What else could it be? It certainly wasn’t human or something that Ranma’s
cat brain classified as a friend. It looked too crunchy to be food, which left
only a few options open as to its classification. Arisa
gave the command and the suit unfolded its full arsenal of weaponry. She
watched as her heads up display placed a red glowing ring around Ranma and
locked on. The woman was just about to unlock the safeties when a pink blur
flipped through the air, landing beside the crouching boy. Neko-Ranma
noted his feline friend’s displeasure with the toy in front of him and decided
to adopt that displeasure as his own.
Despite the climate controlled power armor, Arisa
couldn’t help but to sweat as foot long glowing talons suddenly sprang into
existence along the android boy’s hands, while his face took on a countenance
similar to that of their original target. She now had two very pissed androids
facing her… One was insanely strong while the other was apparently quite well
armed… And she only had one suit of armor to go around. Arisa
looked at the irritated expressions on both cat-androids and nearly cried.
There’d be nothing left of her paycheck by the time tomorrow
morning rolled around.
Ranma Saotome stumbled down from the guest room as
the dawn’s early light filtered through the Tendo household. He rubbed his
temples as his head throbbed, and he silently wondered how big of a truck hit
him and how fast it was going. He slowly made his way into the living room,
guided only by the smell of breakfast. The martial artists finally looked up to
find his newest fiancée helping Kasumi set the table.
Nuku Nuku noticed him
and broke out into a wide smile. “Good morning Ranma-san!” she cheered brightly
and most last night’s adventure came to the forefront of his memory. He
shivered. Not that he remembered anything after the Neko-Ken,
but he distinctly remembered hitting the attacking aircraft. And
Nuku in his arms. After that…?
He was about to sit at the table when he noticed Akane’s wide eyed stare. “What?” She remained silent,
staring. It was enough to make him temporarily forget that there was a cat girl
across the table from him scooping double helpings of breakfast onto his plate.
Nabiki chuckled and his head swiveled onto her. “She’s just
recalling the how you carved up a suit of Mishima
Heavy Industries Mk 308 power armor... In addition to one of
their elite gunships.”
“You SAW that?” Ranma asked in disbelief.
“Of course.” Nabiki confirmed with a smile. “Got it all on tape, too. I could let you watch the parts
you missed for a two thousand yen.”
“Ranma-san make an excellent husband!”
Nuku Nuku piped cheerfully,
recalling the incident clearly. Not only was he a cat, he was undoubtedly an
Alpha male. In short, her feline brain categorized him as the perfect mate.
That statement was enough to snap Akane out of her stupor and favor her fiancé
with yet another smoldering stare. Ranma didn’t even notice as he shook his
head in incredulity. The entire situation had gone from annoying to insane. Fiancees were bad enough. One that turned into a cat with a
curse was a travesty, but a manageable travesty. One that was a super strong
cat-girl all the time… He shivered again as Nuku Nuku favored him with a fanged grin. Funny
how the panda was nowhere to be found this morning. He REALLY needed a
punching bag today. Ranma noticed the double helping of food on his plate and
produced a weak smile for the cat girl, whose own smile turned positively
incandescent.
Denied his normal outlet of aggression when faced with the
weird and bizarre situations created by his father, Ranma turned to the only
thing he had left… Planning his next move against Setsuna.
She was so going to pay.
Ranma crouched on the rooftop and extended his ki sense for a couple of miles, finally confident that he
had shaken off all pursuit. The normal fiancées had been easy. Shampoo was a
bit tougher with her tracking experience. Ditching Nuku
Nuku was positively a nightmare without the Umi-sen-ken, and he didn’t want to use it while there was
the possibility that The Meddler could monitor him or his friends, as it was
truly his ace in the hole. Through careful experimentation, it was becoming
increasingly obvious that that the Senshi of Time couldn’t track his movements
directly and had to resort to monitoring the people around him to discover his
activities. Once he was alone, he could do damn near anything he wanted without
her knowledge. Sure she knew he was up to something. After all, if finding a
few thousand roaches in your own bedroom didn’t tip you off, nothing would. But
knowing something was up and doing something about it were two different
things. Unless she wanted to force a direct confrontation- which would suit him
just fine –she would just have to remain in the dark until he made his move.
He also had a sneaking suspicion that she had no knowledge of
his girl type, which gave him a supreme, if unwelcome tactical advantage. Ranma
wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe it was because he had played Ranko
Tendo so many times as to be overlooked. Maybe it was because of the magic
imbedded within the curse. Maybe she just hadn’t put two and two together like
so many other people in his life. Whatever the reason, it was leverage he
couldn’t pass up, if only because he was at his wits end concerning her
activities in his life. At this point, he would take any and every advantage to
convince Pluto to stay off his back, even if it meant time in his female form.
Regardless, he couldn’t afford “maybe’s” or “probably’s” if
his next offensive measure was to succeed. He had to know for sure and that’s
why he was on this rooftop at this very moment. Ranma pulled out a small
canteen from weapon space and unscrewed the cap.
It was game time.
The Senshi of Time was in a good mood. For one,
Crystal Tokyo was holding at a probability of ninety-seven point one percent,
the highest she’d achieved in several hundred years. Second, her plans to
further complicate Ranma’s life were a complete success. Not that she was done
by a long shot, just that she loved it when a plan came together. This plan had
been especially enjoyable, however. Setsuna Meiou handed a few bills to the
grocery store clerk and collected her bags as she doled back her change. Not
only was Ranma now saddled with a nuisance and phobia, he also had the
entire resources of Mishima Heavy Industries directed
against him as well, thinking he was Doctor Natsume’s
next generation humanoid cat robot after Nuku Nuku. Setsuna couldn’t help but to snort with laughter as
she exited the grocery store, bags in hand. The entire situation was priceless.
She hadn’t had this sort of fun in at least a century.
She stepped out onto the sidewalk. Had she been paying a bit
more attention, she might have not walked into the path of a fellow pedestrian,
promptly causing the pair to collide with one another. Setsuna managed to
retain her balance though she lost her grip on a bag. The girl she had run into
wasn’t quite so lucky, finding herself deposited butt first onto the pavement.
“Ow!” the girl exclaimed then looked
up into the green haired woman above her. “OH! I’m sososososo
sorry!” She scrambled to her feet and retrieved the Senshi’s lost bag of food. “Oh my! I hope I didn’t break anything!”
The Senshi couldn’t help but to smile at the redhead’s gushing.
“I’m sure everything is okay. Speaking of which, are YOU okay?”
“Mmm, I think so.” The redhead
answered somewhat indecisively. “Yeah. I’m okay!” She
looked as if she were about to say something else but then her eyes widened. “Oh no! I’m late!” With that, she gave a curt bow to the
green haired lady and ran off around the corner.
Setsuna couldn’t help but to chuckle. The bubblehead would be
lucky if she didn’t run down five more people getting to wherever she was going
to.
Ranma watched the Senshi of Time continue on her
way from her rooftop perch, all but invisible courtesy of the sealedUmi-sen-ken technique. She watched until she was out
of site, observing her every movement and body language. Everything she saw
from the encounter up to now led her to one decisive conclusion… Setsuna Meiou
didn’t have a clue as to who she had just run into. Ranma grinned ferally. With that confirmed and Pluto having vacated the
area, Ranma emerged from the cloaking technique and hopped down to the street
below, picking out a nearby tailor.
The woman at the counter was about forty and the portly sort,
one Ranma could easily associated as being the
motherly type. The seamstress adjusted her thick glasses and smiled at her new
customer. “What can I do for you, Miss?”
Ranma smiled, switching back to full bubblehead mode and laid a
magazine out on the woman’s counter. I need you to make one of these for me.”
The seamstress blinked, then smiled. “The full costume?” Ranma nodded, maintaining her own smile.
“You do know you can go to any store and pick up one of these at a much
cheaper rate then I’ll have to charge you…?”
The redhead in front of her nodded. “I know, but I need
something that looks absolutely authentic and you came highly
recommended.” As if to underscore her point, Ranma pulled out a sizable wad of
cash. Highly recommended by a certain Tendo, who also
happened to be her source of funds. Better the devil you know, Ranma
snorted mentally.
The woman nodded. “Quite a bit of money for cosplay,
but I’ve seen stranger. I’ll have the full ensemble ready in about a week, is
that acceptable?” The redhead nodded. “Have you decided on a color? If not, I’d
say a dark red and white would match your beautiful hair perfectly.”
Ranma shrugged. “I’ve never had much of a fashion sense, so
I’ll take you word for it.” The two worked out a few other minor details
concerning the design and Ranma left with a mischievous smile on her face.
One more stop to make.
Not much happened around the suburb of Nerima at
two AM in the morning, which was why the shadowy figure chose that time to
penetrate the Chinese sanctuary of the Neko Han Ten.
Of course the doors were locked and the noodle restaurant closed, but that
served next to no deterrent to the shadow, who easily found a way in, slipping
quietly through a back door and into the kitchen. It stalked the premises for a
few moments more before a sound stopped it dead in its tracks.
“Ahem.” The shadow turned to find an old woman balanced neatly
on a staff as gnarled as she was. “Do you really think you could sneak around
my home and not be noticed, Son in-law?”
Ranma stepped out of the shadows, producing a thin smile. “Not at all. I was counting on it, in fact.”
“This isn’t private enough?”
The martial artists shook his head. “No. We need to talk
somewhere that can’t be penetrated by… other methods.”
The Amazon matriarch led him down to the lower level, past
several door and over to a plain wooden one. Ranma took careful note of it as
it was designed in such a way as not attract undue attention to itself, like a
broom or janitorial closet. The two stepped inside and she closed it, first
locking the deadbolt, then warding it with a complex series of finger signs.
Ranma looked around the bare room, which was furnished only by a simple table
and four chairs. The walls, however, were plastered with every imaginable
warding seal and the pigtailed boy had no hope of even deciphering a fraction
of them.
“Remember the wishing sword?”
“That there is an unwelcome force meddling with my
life and those of my friends. I intend to put a stop to it.” Ranma stated evenly
and
“What is this force? And how do you intend to stop it?”
Ranma shook his head. “Right now, the less you know the better.
In fact, my biggest advantage at the moment is the total secrecy concerning my
actions in the matter.”
Ranma nodded with understanding. “Right.
No offense, but I’m not here to enlist your help. I’m here to retrieve
something of mine.”
“The Gekkaja and the Kinjakan.” Ranma’s reply was totally devoid of emotion and this
time
Indeed, it was a secret honor for
And now he was taking them back in response to a mysterious,
unseen threat. That alone spoke volumes on so many levels as to what he was
facing. First, there was the fact that he was actually willing to take up a
weapon against the threat. Second, the weapons he was using could very
conceivably take out a god. Third, he was taking both weapons, not simply
one. Finally, there was the fact that they were in the very room that would
prevent nearly every known form of surveillance, magical and otherwise. In fact
the only thing that could possibly scry through the
warding she had erected was a full blown god, and
After that brief period of thought, the Elder nodded grimly and
reached into her own weapon space, pulling out a small dagger and a rectangular
seal. Like the others, its symbology was completely
incomprehensible to Ranma. His eyes widened as she took the dagger to her tumb and slit it, then proceeded to drag the minor wound
across the paper itself. The blood soaked in and she chanted something complete
intelligible to Ranma. The effect, however, was obvious. The seal glowed
briefly, then lit into open flame. Within seconds,
there was nothing left but ash.
“Think of it as a combination locked weapons space.” She
explained. “Under the right circumstances, a normal pocket such as the ones Moouse uses can be forced and broken into. They are
unlocked doors that can be breached. Not easily mind you, but it isn’t total
security.” Ranma nodded and the elder continued. “This technique, however,
requires the willing life force of the user. There is virtually no method by
which it can be forced. Even psychological techniques such as brainwashing are
not guaranteed to work.”
With that,
“Indeed, Son in-law.” The Kinjakan
was first as she set the large, ring-tipped staff onto the table. The ambient
power in the room increased greatly simply through its presence. Ranma traced
the silver shaft and
Ranma nodded and stored the ancient keys into his own weapon
space. He addressed
“I know exactly what I’m doing. It’s payback time.”
Author’s Notes:
I had fun with this chapter as it allowed me to deepen the plot and engage
in some foreshadowing, not to mention the insanity that Nuku
Nuku will bring to the table. Trust me, the pissing contest is only just getting started. Since
it’s nearly 7am here, I’ll cut right to the notes.
Gekkaja- The crescent tipped staff of ice Ranma
used to help defeat Saffron in book 38. It’s primary
power is to turn chunks of matter into solid ice. The original condition book
38 leaves this weapon in is with the crescent blade bent at an unnatural 90
degree angle. Ranma had returned it to its original state before storing it
with
Kinjakan- The large ring-tipped
staff wielded by both Ranma and Saffron, the latter of which uses this weapon
against Ranma in book 38. Its primary effects are two fold—First,
the ring can be flung at an opponent and will easily carve through dense
material, magically returning to the staff. Second, it is the polar opposite of
the Gekkaja with the ability to produce mass
quantities of fire and heat.