You have to believe we are magic;
Nothing can stand in our way.
You have to believe we are magic;
Don't let you aim ever stray.
And if all your hopes survive,
Your destiny will arrive
And bring all your dreams alive
For you.
I'll bring all your dreams alive
For you.
Magic
Part 2 - Family and Friends
by Richard Lawson
Comments & Criticism Welcome!
sterman@sprynet.com
The opening of the dojo door saved Nouma from further thoughts on how to
balance his obligations. The door was opened by a very serious-looking man
in a dark suit and sunglasses. Why he was wearing sunglasses in the gloom of
the early evening was lost on Nouma. The man gave the screened off area at
the back of the dojo a hard look, and Nouma realized that the sunglasses must
have infrared and other capabilities built in. With seeming reluctance, the
man stepped back and let other people enter the dojo.
The first was someone Nouma didn't immediately recognize. He had last seen
her over ten years ago. When he did, he blinked in amazement. He bowed deeply
to her. "We are honored by your presence, Ambassador."
The woman snorted. "It is we who are honored to be here." Her Japanese was
much better than Nouma remembered. "Please, call me Shampoo."
"Shampoo-san." Nouma bowed to her once again, slightly. Talk about ageless;
Shampoo looked as beautiful as when he had last seen her ten years ago, and
back then everyone had said she still looked the same as she did when she was
sixteen. In her case, it *was* genetics and conditioning; the Amazons were
known for their longevity, and Shampoo kept herself fit and trim. Even then,
Nouma could see crow's feet on her face, and slight folds on her neck that
were on their way to becoming wrinkles. She could not be mistaken for a
twenty-year-old.
Nouma turned to the man next to her. "Mousse-san, it is a pleasure to meet you
again." He, too, looked quite well. He wasn't wearing glasses, but very few
people did these days, with laser surgery being able to correct most people's
vision problems. "Please, enter."
They did, bowing to the center of the dojo as they did so. Nouma kept himself
from blinking in surprise; bowing was not something Chinese did. Still, as
diplomats they had probably learned to conform to the customs of many different
countries.
Mousse smiled at Nouma. "I wanted to congratulate you on your Gold Medal."
"Yes!" Shampoo's voice became excited. Her speech lapsed back into the
heavily accented Japanese he remembered from the past. "Shampoo remembers
semi-final match, against Chinese martial artist. Ambassador roots for her
country's representative. Shampoo's secret heart is overjoyed when Nouma
wins, goes on to win Gold. Shampoo so proud!"
Nouma couldn't help but smile in the face of Shampoo's enthusiasm. He still
felt embarrassed by his Olympic victory. He'd felt rather like an adult
beating up on a room full of children. He was glad, however, that it made
everyone around him happy. "Thank you, Shampoo-san. I am only fortunate
that you yourself did not enter the competition."
Shampoo laughed. "You flatter this old woman, Nouma-san." Shampoo turned to
the door, frowning slightly. "Allow me to introduce our daughter." She
raised her voice slightly. "Khu Lon!"
Nouma looked past Shampoo. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe.
A young woman stepped into the dojo. She had her mother's attractive figure
and her father's piercing, soulful eyes. Dark red hair flowed down her
shoulders and halfway down her chest. She must dye it, Nouma realized with a
start. He tried to remember how old she was; he thought she was two or three
years younger than he was. Perhaps nineteen or twenty. She frowned sullenly
at him.
Nouma floundered for a greeting; his composure seemed to have deserted him
completely. "Cologne?"
The young Amazon's eyes flashed. "Khu Lon!"
Shampoo reached up and placed her hand on Khu Lon's shoulder. Khu Lon flushed
and looked down. Shampoo looked at Nouma with a trace of apology on her face.
"I know you meant no offense, Nouma. That is how everyone in Japan referred
to my great-grandmother when they used her given name. Nevertheless, it was
an incorrect pronounciation. My daughter's name is Khu Lon."
Nouma ducked his head. "Then perhaps I should call you...."
"Shampoo." Her voice was firm. "I allowed everyone to call me that, and even
referred to myself that way when speaking Japanese." She smiled widely.
"It's a little comforting, actually, to be called that. It reminds me so much
of the good times I had here all those years ago." Her gaze drifted over to
Mousse, and they smiled at each other, sharing memories of days before Nouma
was born.
He took the opportunity to try and make amends with Khu Lon. "Please forgive
me, honored guest, for having upset you. I am at your service; command me,
and I will do as you say." That was going a little overboard, but he couldn't
help himself. She was doing things to him.
Khu Lon lifted her eyes and glared at him. Nouma noticed that Shampoo
tightened her grip on Khu Lon's shoulder. It might appear to be a simple
squeeze, but Nouma's training allowed him to recognize the way Shampoo's
forearm bulged and the slight tightening in Khu Lon's eyes. Shampoo was
applying a powerful, painful hold to Khu Lon's shoulder. Nouma was impressed
by how impassively Khu Lon took it, and her voice seemed mild and without a
hint of strain. "There is nothing to forgive, honored host. If you are to
accept any of my commands, than I command you to allow me to humbly beg for
your forgiveness for treating you so direspectfully."
The flat way she delivered the words and the way her eyes glinted let Nouma
know that nothing was truly forgiven. Still, she had gone through the motions,
with remarkable diplomatic skill. This spoke volumes for her self-control and
intelligence.
Nouma shook himself mentally. He knew that he was trying to interpret
everything she said and did as favorably as possible. He couldn't help
himself. She was beautiful, and there was just something in the way she held
herself, something that showed in her dark brown eyes. He didn't know what it
was, yet. He certainly knew that nothing of what he felt was being returned
by the angry young woman in front of him.
Somehow, he didn't care. There was a part of his brain that was letting him
know in no uncertain terms that he would be making every effort to get to know
Khu Lon better.
The tableau was broken by the arrival of more guests. Nouma murmurred his
apologies and moved to greet them, not missing the appraising and slightly
amused look Mousse was giving him.
Familiar faces smiled at him. "Aunt Akari. Uncle Ryoga." Technically, they
weren't a part of the family, but they were such good friends that he and his
sister had taken to calling them Aunt and Uncle. "Thank you for coming."
Ryoga bowed. "Nouma, it is good to see you again. How's the new job?" Unlike
Father, Ryoga had understood Nouma's desire to do something besides martial
arts.
"It's great. I love the work." Nouma turned to Akari. "How's life been for
the Savior of the World?"
Akari flushed; she was still embarrassed by the title accorded her by most
periodicals. "Life at the lab has been very exciting. We're getting closer
and closer to a strain of pig that can grow to adulthood in less than a month,
and at the same time produce meat that is free of many of the things that
make meat unhealthy." She frowned slightly. "Of course, the animal-rights
protesters picket the lab almost daily. I feel like the last of the
gas-powered automobile makers, trying to convince everyone how great my car is
while they all buy electrics."
Nouma smiled. "Don't feel that way, Aunt Akari. You still make the best
BLT's I've ever tasted. I'd hate to have to live in a world without them."
Akari smiled back at him, showing a touch of gratitude for Nouma's
reassurance.
One of the two boys behind Ryoga and Akari stepped forward and punched Nouma
in the arm. "Hey, you don't come around the dojo no more. I've been aching
for a chance to take that medal away from you."
Nouma chuckled. "In your dreams, Mitsuaki. You'll have to go out and win it
for yourself the hard way." He turned and faced Kouichi. "How about you?
Ready for another fight?"
Kouichi winked. "No, I know that I'll never be able to beat you. And I don't
enjoy getting my face beaten in as much as my idiotic older brother does."
"Boys, please." Akari chided them gently. "Another time."
They all grinned at each other. Nouma had had a lot of fun training with the
Hibiki boys in the dojo. They were his good friends, too.
Nabiki entered with Uncle Tatewaki. Nabiki nodded, while Tatewaki gave a
very formal bow. Nouma bowed back, then grinned. "It is good as always to
see you again, Uncle."
"My pleasure as well, Nephew. Too long has it been since we had you over to
the mansion. Needs must we rectify that, and soon."
Nabiki smiled. "He means come on over for dinner any time, Nouma. You're
always welcome."
Nouma looked into Tatewaki's eyes. As always, they were noble and serene.
The only thing that could shake Tatewaki's poise was his wife. This time,
however, she didn't succeed; he assumed a pose of noble suffering. Nouma
smiled at him, to show that he was on his side this time.
A woman about Mikanma's age stepped between Nabiki and Tatewaki to bow to
Nouma. "Good to see you here, Cousin. Do you know what the story is this
time?"
Nouma bowed back. "I'm glad to see you, Tachi. Father will explain
everything when we're all settled."
Nabiki put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "That's what we call a
'subtle hint', Tachi. Come on."
Tachi chuckled, and moved away with her parents.
The next group of people had been waiting patiently for the doorway to clear.
They stepped into the dojo, and the whole place seemed to become calmer as
a result of the peace they seemed to radiate. Nouma smiled; he remembered
Ranko's observation that doctors didn't need to prescribe anti-depressants
any more, they just sent their patients to live in the Ono house for a week.
"Aunt Kasumi. Uncle Tofu. Thank you for coming."
Kasumi's voice drifted pleasantly across the space between them before
drifting into his ears and settling down in the most tranquil part of his
brain. "It is always a pleasure to return here, and even more of a pleasure
to see you here with your family."
Nouma smiled, basking in her kind words and hearing the subtle message in
them, that he needed to spend more time with his parents. Kasumi had taken
parenting and refined it to a high art form, somehow managing to discretely
guide the lives of the entire Tendo clan. She was the heart of the whole
family, and was revered for her calm wisdom and gentle guidance.
Tofu bowed to Nouma. "You seem to be doing very well for yourself, Nouma,
if all I hear is true. You've become a very fine young man."
Nouma flushed; as nice as that was, it wasn't what he needed to hear right
now, in the face of his father's request. "Thank you, Uncle."
Kasumi turned slightly to allow her middle child to step forward. Three years
younger than Nouma, Kikuko was the spitting image of her mother. She was also
an exceptional martial artist, easily the equal of Kouichi or Mitsuaki and
even approaching Nouma's level in certain areas. Yet, despite the violence
inherent in taking martial arts so seriously, she had as calm a nature as her
parents. Very often during training sessions she would take her opponents
by surprise by her sudden attacks, which seemed so out of place coming from
someone as sweet as Kikuko.
She bowed to him. "Thank you for your hospitality, Nouma. I look forward
to being able to talk with you again. I may have some prospects for you."
Nouma laughed. Kikuko wasn't nearly the matriarch her mother was - not yet,
anyway - but she had taken up an interesting hobby, that of matchmaker. She
considered it a major crime that he didn't have a girlfriend, and had been
suggesting dates for him for the past couple of years. He had yet to agree
to meet any of the women she tried to push off on him, but that only seemed
to make her try harder. She had successfully found Mitsuaki a girlfriend,
and he seemed happy enough. Still, that wasn't something Nouma was ready to
try for himself.
Besides, he had a prospect of his own to cultivate.
He mentally shook himself away from that train of thought. "We'll see,
Kikuko. Please, make yourself comfortable."
Kikuko smiled, somewhat mischievously, before following her parents into
the dojo.
His next guest was alone. He bowed to her deeply; she was another one of
his favorite people. "Thanks for taking time off to come here, Aunt Ukyo."
She laughed brightly. "Oh, I have lots of time now, Nouma. I no longer
have to do everything to keep the company running. I actually have people
I can trust doing a lot of the things I used to do. Now, when I cook, it's
because I want to cook."
Nouma chuckled. "That's good. What're you up to now, fifteen, twenty
restaurants?"
Ukyo tsked at him, still smiling. "You are so far behind, Nouma. Thirty-six.
Four more opening soon, including the one in Paris."
Nouma raised his eyebrows. "Paris? Wow. You got 'em all over the place,
don't you?"
Ukyo shrugged. "Not all of the international ones do so well. I had to
close the New York restaurant, but I've still got one in San Fransicso, as
well as Hong Kong, Sydney, Singapore, Seoul, and Bangkok." She counted them
off on her fingers, them beamed at Nouma. "I didn't really need to open
them all over the place. I kind of stretched our resources, took a lot of
risks, to do that. It was just a dream of mine, to one day have restaurants
all over the world."
Nouma smiled warmly at her. "One you could not fail to accomplish, not with
the dedication you and your partner have shown."
"Thank you, Nouma. That means a lot, from you. I finally forced Konatsu to
take an extended vacation last year with his wife and children. He'd never
stop working if I didn't threaten him with bodily harm."
Nouma looked around. "If you'd like to wait a moment, Aunt Ukyo, you can
sit with me."
"That's okay, Nouma. I think I'll go visit with Ryoga." She walked over
to the Hibikis, reaching out to grasp Ryoga's hand. Soon they were deep
in conversation. Nouma watched them for a few seconds. He hadn't realized
that Ryoga and Ukyo knew each other that well, although he really shouldn't
have been surprised, since they had both been intimate parts of Ranma's life
twenty-five years ago.
The rest of Nouma's immediately family entered. Ranko and her parents,
Nouma's grandparents, Nodoka and Genma. Nouma's other grandfather, Soun,
was with them, along with Akane and Mikanma. There was a bit of hugging
that Nouma had to endure, which he actually didn't mind.
Nouma was worried about the one person missing until she showed up, right at
the last minute. Nouma smiled at her, relieved. "Hello, Aunt Kodachi.
Thanks for coming."
"Ah, Nouma-chan, you are the one person who is always glad to see me." Kodachi
smiled sadly. "It warms my heart."
Nouma shook his head, laughing. "Don't play the stricken maiden with me,
Auntie. I think your husband and daughter are just as glad to see you as I
am."
Kodachi lifted her hand to her forehead in mock dismay. "Alas, they do not
appreciate me as much as you do." She smiled, then turned serious. "There
are still people in this room who are not completely comfortable around me.
I thought it best to limit my exposure to them as much as possible."
Nouma thinned his lips, understanding if not accepting the attitudes she was
describing. He had, of course, heard about the exploits of the Black Rose.
He had found those tales difficult to believe of the intelligent, rational
woman who had taught him so much. She had, on occasion, told him of some of
the demons that had driven her to madness. Nouma accepted her for who she
was, not who she might have been, and didn't much like it that others could
not. She really was one of his favorite people.
Nouma reached out and took her hand. "Well, I am very glad to have you here.
I think I'm going to need your help before the night is through."
"Indeed." Kodachi looked around the dojo. "I wonder what your father is up
to. He's made a lot of people very nervous."
Silence suddenly descended on the room as Ranma stepped from behind the
screen in the back of the dojo. Nouma blinked; Father had become female for
some reason. She looked around the room, moving her gaze from group to group
seated on the floor or leaning against the walls. She shared smiles with each
individual, at the same time giving each of the a piercing appraisal. She
ended with Kodachi, and did not look into Nouma's eyes. That disturbed him for
some reason.
"I want to thank you all for coming, as I'm sure my son already has. I
apologize for disturbing your lives in this way. I fear I have some terrible
things to ask of you.
"All of you here know about my curse." She looked down at herself. Nouma, of
course, didn't think of his father's female side as being attractive, but all
of his friends had commented on it. Once his parents had come to visit him at
college, and a thuderstorm had struck just before they entered his dorm. For
weeks afterwards, Nouma had had to fend off his dorm mates, asking if his
'sister' was available, and could they have her phone number? Nouma had put
up with it as best he could.
Ranma looked up again. "To reiterate, there are at least four aspects of the
curse that we know about. One, I turn into a woman when splashed with cold
water. A side effect of this aspect is that cold water finds ways of
splashing me as much as possible.
"Second, I can't get cured. During the first year I was cursed, I tried many
different ways to rid myself of it. They inevitably ended in disaster. I
learned not to fight it.
"The third aspect is this ageing thing." Ranma hung her head a second, and
Nouma could see again how much it bothered her. "We didn't really notice it
until about five years ago. I don't think I've aged since I was twenty. I
don't know why it works this way.
"The last aspect is the most important one. I've been cursed for a reason:
to fulfill some destiny." Ranma grimaced. "Destiny doesn't mean one battle
against some ultimate monster, but lots of little battles against all sorts
of enemies. It hasn't always been fighting; I've played many different roles.
In those instances, it's usually been necessary that I become a woman. So
the curse has found a way to put me in situations where my skills are needed.
"A side effect of this last aspect is my sense of danger. I can tell when
something bad's about to happen; it's a kind of warning system that lets me
know when to get ready. It's not always reliable, but mostly it is.
"So, okay, you're wondering why I've asked you to come here. About a week
ago, I got a call from a friend of mine in the United States, a police
detective I helped out a few years ago. A colleague of his had gone on a
hiking trip in the Canadian Northwest. They found his body along with those
of nine other people in the woods. There was no obvious reason for their
deaths, except that they all had terrified expressions on their faces.
"As he started telling me the details of the case, my sense of danger began
to kick in. It grew as he asked me if I could look into it. He has no
jurisdiction in Canada and he feels that there is more to the deaths than the
Canadian police are willing to admit.
"I agreed, and the sense of danger went into high gear. It's stronger than
it's ever been, and I haven't even left Japan yet. I told you that my destiny
didn't involve fighting some ultimate monster. In this case, it might. The
danger is so overwhelming, I can't make any comparisons, and you all know how
dangerous some of my battles have been."
Ranma lowered her voice, her face very grim. "I fear that this is one
adventure I might not come back from."
There were some murmurs from the people present, and Nouma looked over at
Akane. She didn't look surprised - Ranma had obviously already told her
this - but she was very pale and clutching Grandfather's arm very tightly.
Mikanma did look surprised, but she also looked determined and angry, as if
she wanted to take on the fear and fight it hand-to-hand.
Ranma waited for the murmurs to die down. "For the first time ever, I thought
about getting some help. Immediately, my sense of danger got a little less
intense. The more I thought about the people in this room, the lesser it
got." Ranma looked from face to face again, this time also looking in Nouma's
eyes and holding her gaze there a little longer than she had with the others.
"I need your help." Ranma lifted her eyes away from Nouma and looked around
the room once more. "I'm asking that as many of you as possible come with me
to Canada. I don't need all of you. In fact, some of you shouldn't come.
But you do need to know what's going on. I have no idea what we're going to
face, and I can offer no guarantees that any of us will return."
Ranma closed her eyes. "I'm sorry to ask this of you." She opened her eyes
again and looked determined. "There is something very wrong, and we need to
set it right. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. I need to know how many of you
will be coming along. I wish I could give you more time, but I need to know
tonight." Ranma looked suddenly sad and tired. "Feel free to ask me any
more questions. And don't be ashamed to say no. I am ashamed enough for
asking. But I do ask for a definite answer of some sort before you leave
tonight."
With that, Ranma went over and sat down next to Akane, talking to her quietly.
Mother hugged Father fiercely, tears streaming down her face.
Kodachi began to say something to Nouma, but for some reason his attention was
focused on an intense debate in Chinese taking place a few feet away. Nouma
had minored in Asian Languages, and spoke Mandarin decently, if not exactly
fluently. He was able to follow their conversation.
"I must go." Shampoo looked quite determined. "He has done so much for us,
honor compels me to accompany him."
Mousse looked unhappy. "I agree as well. Yet the negotions with the US are
at a critical stage right now. We were barely able to fit in this visit to
Japan. Do you know how much face we'll lose if we back out of the talks now?"
Shampoo blew out an angry breath. "That cannot be helped. I don't care if it
means the end of my political career. I am going to help Ranma."
Khu Lon interrupted, sounding more than a little acerbic. "Really, Mother.
When was the last time you were on the Battle Tree? How much help could you
really be?"
Shampoo glared at Khu Lon. "Enough, Daughter. I still know enough to be able
to defeat you if I needed to."
"No you don't, and you know it." Khu Lon glared at Shampoo fiercely.
"Ranma said that not everyone is needed. You have to go back to New York;
that is where you are needed."
"That's right." Mousse spoke earnestly. "I will go and represent our
family."
"Oh please, Father." Khu Lon spoke in an exasperated tone of voice. "You're
marginally better than Mother, but you know she won't be able to function
at the talks without you. You've always worked best together." Khu Lon
looked at each of her parents angrily. "It's obvious that I have to be the
one to go."
They stared at her. She glared back at them, as if daring them to prove her
wrong. After only a few seconds, Shampoo and Mousse looked at each other, and
Nouma could see in their faces that they found her arguments convincing. They
were going to let her go in their place, no matter how much the thought
terrified them.
Shampoo turned back to Khu Lon and nodded. They made their way over to Ranma.
"...and then, after I've your mother as happy as possible, I'll take Ranma and
marry him in her stead. Then I'll marry you, Nouma, because you've always
been such a sweet boy. We'll go together with my first husband and live in
the United States. I understand they're a lot more open about that kind of
thing. While I'm at it, I'll marry your sister. I'm not really into that
sort of thing, but we musn't play favorites, must we?"
Some of what Kodachi was saying began to percolate through Nouma's
consciousness. He turned and gaped at her. "Aunt Kodachi!"
She smiled at him sweetly. "Oh, do I have your attention? I feared that you
were too busy drooling over that sweet young woman to pay any heed to your
poor old ugly aunt's senile ramblings. Still, I had so hoped that you would
agree to my plans; life would be much more interesting that way."
Nouma looked into her eyes, bringing his eyebrows slightly closer together.
"Enough, Aunt Kodachi." He had always enjoyed bantering with her, but she
went too far this time. He was letting her know that there were some lines
she shouldn't cross.
She raised an eyebrow. "Have I got your dander up, Nephew? I *am* sorry."
This was said in a mostly sarcastic voice, but Nouma did detect traces of
genuine apology. She had gotten the message.
Nouma was forced to admit to himself that he had been behaving rudely as well.
"Please forgive me, Aunt Kodachi. I intended no disrespect. Your words are
valuable to me."
She smiled again, this time warmly. "I understand, Nouma. I've seen that
look in enough young men to know that if I were set ablaze, you might have
commented on the smoke in your eyes. Then again, you might not have." Her
eyes twinkled. "She *is* an attractive creature, is she not? Full of spirit
and fire, I can tell. Reminds me of a certain rhythmic gymnast I knew decades
ago."
Nouma couldn't help but chuckle. "If only I could have known you then, Aunt
Kodachi."
Kodachi's eyes clouded over, and pain flitted across her face. "It is best
that you were spared that version of myself." She focused on Nouma once again,
and her demeanor turned business-like. "It appears that your father expects
something from you, Nouma. I saw the way he was looking at you. What did
he say to you earlier?"
Nouma grimaced and looked down. "He wants to retire from the world-saving
business in favor of me."
He heard Kodachi draw in a sharp breath. "Does that mean...?"
Nouma nodded. "I think so." He looked over at Father, talking quietly with
Shampoo, Mousse and Khu Lon. "I'm not sure what to think about his request."
"Well, I know what *I* think." Kodachi's voice was quick and angry. "You
weren't around during some of the worst of it, when he was first cursed. It
made his life and the lives of those around him quite frenetic. Everyone
nearly lost their lives a dozen times over, it seemed like. Maybe it had
something to do with the concentration of all those curses in close proximity,
but either way, it was no kind of lifestyle I would wish on my child." She
folder her arms across her chest, clearly fuming. "Why he would want to
afflict you with the curse is quite beyond my ability to comprehend."
Nouma curved one corner of his lip down. "I understand. He feels a duty to
the world to help solve their problems. What more does a father hope for than
to have his child take up the duty for him? However, there's a big gap for me
between understanding the reasons for his request, and accepting those reasons
as valid."
Kodachi nodded. "I guess that's what I mean, too. Your father thinks life is
nothing but a fun adventure. It's all he's known, first wandering the world
with his father, then being cursed and having adventures find him one way or
the other." Her voice grew a little sad. "He doesn't understand how other
people could want to lead nice, quiet, normal lives. That's extremely dull
and boring to him. I'm sure he thought you would be overjoyed at the prospect
of leaving the tedium of computer programming behind to delve once more into
the exciting world of the cursed martial artist."
Nouma blinked. Once again, he marvelled at Kodachi's reasoning ability. He
was convinced that everything she had just said was right on the mark.
Obvious, really, once it was pointed out. Nouma was sure that Ranma believed
he was making a tremendous sacrifice in giving up the curse, and was bestowing
upon Nouma a wonderful gift.
Nouma's lips thinned. He would have to make sure his father understood exactly
how Nouma viewed such matters.
All that could wait until after this matter had been dealt with. He looked
around to see how the conversations were going.
Kodachi saw him shift his gaze around and offered her own observations. "If
I were to make a guess, I would say that Ryoga and his sons are coming, along
with Ukyo and Nabiki. I don't know about Mikanma; she'll definitely want to
go, and she'll be valuable as the second-strongest martial artist of the
bunch. It depends on how your mother feels. She'll not want to risk her
whole family on this one dangerous quest. I'm guessing Mikanma will be
staying."
Nouma looked over at Mother and Mikanma. They were having a quiet but very
intense debate. He saw flickers of ki-energy come from them both; they only
manifested when they were both very angry. Usually they were shouting at each
other by this point. In the end, Father would have to play peacemaker, as he
usually did. Nouma wasn't sure which side Ranma would take. He surely
wouldn't want to risk Mikanma either, but if his danger sense told him that
Mikanma was needed, he might insist on her coming.
"Of the others I'm not sure. Kikuko wants to come. Kasumi doesn't want her
to go, but probably will let her because of her sense of duty to the family.
Tofu, of course, will go along with whatever Kasumi decides.
"The debate I find interesting is the one between Tachi and her parents."
Nouma, as it happened, was looking in their direction as Kodachi continued
speaking. "I don't know why Tachi wants to come - she's not much of a martial
artist, and she knows it. Nabiki will be representing their family, so it
can't be because of any sense of duty."
Nouma watched as Tachi spoke passionately in her own defense. "I think I know
why. Tachi has taken it upon herself to chronicle Father's adventures. I
think she's insisting that she be allowed to record the events as they
happen."
Kodachi hmmphed. "I see. A dangerous avocation, that of war correspondent.
I hope they talk her out of it."
Nouma nodded. He turned his head to look at Kodachi. She felt his gaze and
turned her eyes back to his. "What about you, Aunt Kodachi? You'll be
staying, won't you?"
"Oh please, silly boy." Her voice was light, but with a very serious
undertone. "Who else can plan strategies for your sad lot? You're quite
capable of course, Nouma, but you don't have my experience." She drew her
eyebrows together, looking at Nouma fiercely, but with just a trace of
pleading in her voice. "You need me to come with you."
Nouma sighed. "I suppose we do." He pretended not to hear her small sigh of
relief.
More and more people were drifting towards Ranma, and it was going pretty much
as Kodachi had predicted. Tachi had evidently made her case; she was coming,
as was Kikuko.
Nabiki took over the logistical planning, and told everyone to meet at the
airport late the next morning. She would have a charter available, along
with some equipment. She hoped to have the plane in the air by noon.
Ranma nodded and thanked everyone, apologizing once again despite the numerous
protests. Everyone left more or less at once, and soon only Mother, Father,
Mikanma, Grandmother and Grandfather Saotome, Grandfather Tendo, and Ranko
were left in the dojo with Nouma.
All eyes were on Ranma as she sat slightly hunched, burdened by the knowledge
of the danger she was placing a lot of her friends and family in. She lifted
her eyes. "Akane, my dear wife, I am sorry. I need Mikanma with us. If she
and Nouma aren't with us, I got a feeling that it will end in disaster."
Akane dissolved into sobs and hugged Grandfather Tendo. He did his best to
console her, while Grandmother and Grandfather Saotome moved over to speak
softly with Ranma.
Ranko came over and sat with Nouma and Mikanma. She looked solemn for once,
and she gazed steadily at them both. "I want to come, but Brother won't let
me. As much as we may need Microtechnic Specialists in this world, they
wouldn't be much use where he's going." She smiled briefly before sobering
again. "This is the first time in my life that I wish I had learned some
martial arts; then I might be coming with you."
Nouma lifted a corner of his mouth. "I think that Grandmother would have
disowned you if you had taken up martial arts."
Ranko shook her head. "No, Mother just wanted to make sure that I was given
a choice. I do think, however, that she was happy I showed no interest in
becoming like Father and Ranma." She turned her head to look at her family.
Nouma frowned as he thought about that. Given a choice? He tried to think
back to a time when he chose to become a martial artist. As far as he could
remember, martial arts had been a necessary skill, like learning to read and
write. He remember Father showing Mikanma how to assume the ready position
almost as soon as she could stand on her own. Ranma was likely only doing
to his family what had been done to him.
Nouma shook his head; he shouldn't judge his father harshly. After all, he'd
enjoyed using the skills he'd learned from martial arts. There was nothing to
compare to the feeling he got in the dojo, his mind and body working together
to produce a symphony of motion.
Still, he couldn't help wondering whether or not that feeling would be enhanced
if it had been something he'd chosen to pursue.
Mikanma, meanwhile, was trying to comfort Ranko in her own unusual way. "Just
be glad you ain't coming, Auntie. You'd just get in the way and probably get
yourself killed. Stay here and root for us and that'll be good enough."
Nouma looked at Ranko, and their eyes twinkled in amusement. Nouma was glad
that Ranko understood Mikanma's intent.
Glancing around the dojo, Nouma stood up. "I should be getting home and
preparing for the trip. I'll meet you all at the airport tomorrow."
Father nodded, while Mother looked up at him with a sad, frightened look on
her face. Nouma winced inside; the real parting tomorrow would be very
painful.
He made his way to his apartment, lost in thought. The next few days had the
potential to change his life forever, and that of everyone else in his family.
It also might cost everyone their lives.
He palmed the door to his apartment open. Everything was dark, which suited
his mood. He went into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He was still a
little sore from the beatings he'd taken today. For now, he just wanted to
relax and let all his tension drain out of him. There would be time enough
later to be worried again.
"Tendo Nouma."
Nouma leapt to his feet, assuming a ready stance. He looked around the
darkened bedroom, trying to find the source of the soft whisper. He saw
nothing. "Minmay, lights." The apartment's computer responded, but the
bedroom lights revealed nothing new.
"Tendo Nouma."
He whirled around, but he just couldn't get a fix on the whisper. "Minmay,
list apartment entries."
The personality he'd chosen for the house computer answered in a bright tone.
"Apartment entered today at 9:17pm by Tendo Nouma. Apartment entered today at
5:37pm by Tendo Nouma. Aparment entered yesterday at...."
"Minmay, stop." Whoever was in here had bypassed the apartment's security.
It could be a transmission of some sort, he realized. Someone playing a joke.
He ran through his list of friends, trying to decide which one of them was
the most likely to have pulled this off. Whoever it was sure had a very bad
sense of timing.
"Tendo Nouma. I await you."
"Dammit, this is not funny!" He looked around the bedroom again, this time
seeing if he could find a receiver of some sort. Which was futile, of course;
microtechnics could produce a receiver the size of a grain of dust. Of
course, it would need something slightly more substantial to produce the sound
he was hearing. Maybe something the size of a one-yen coin. He should be
able to find it.
"Tendo Nouma. I will devour your sister and I will devour your father and I
will devour you."
Now he was really angry. Beyond angry; furious. "God help whoever this is,
because if I find you I'm going to beat you within an inch of your life." He
was shouting now, his hands clenched into fists and trembling with the force
of his anger.
"You and only you I will give a choice. Come to me willingly, and I will
leave your soul free. Fight me, and every person you love will die in
agony. Be ready for the choice, and choose wisely. It will be offered only
once."
For the first time, Nouma considered the possibility that this was more than
someone's practical joke. Just as a touch of horror began pushing away the
anger inside him, the whisper laughed quietly as it faded out.
Nouma tried to bring moisture back into his mouth. He looked down at his
clenched fists and forced them open. He went into the kitchen and drank a
glass of water, trying to bring order to his racing heart and mind.
More than anything else, he wanted this to be over. He wanted nothing more
than to be thinking about his new algorithm and puttering around his computer
and maybe practicing a few martial arts moves. Normal life, not the
"excitement" of his father's life.
Whatever it was he'd been dragged into, it promised to be horrifying. He had
the feeling that was not going to relaxing any time soon. Quite possibly
until the end of his life.
