so we'll try this again, shall we?
Morning brings with it another day of petty annoyances.
I roust muself out of bed at three in the morning- at my age,
I find five hours of sleep is all I require- and spend my first hour
or so working the stiffness out of my joints. This consists of the
basic kata, plus a few additions of my own devising. I finish this off
with a quick pre-dawn lap around Nerima, listening to the
not-yet-awake suburb as it dreams its dreams of normalcy. I find this
refreshes not only my mind but my spirit, for even if I cannot be in
my homeland, I can at least see that all is well with my current
habitation.
I return home, bathe quickly, only allowing myself a few
minutes of sinful bliss in the furo before dressing and preparing
myself for the day's labours. The kitchen is immaculate- I would never
let it be otherwise. A thin layer of dust on the tables in the
restraunt; I must speak to Mousse about this, he must have been
distracted by something.
(I swear, you would thing being legally blind would make the
boy immune from distractions; instead, it seems to have made him
spectacularly vulnerable to them. Perhaps it has something to do with
his rich fantasy life, most of which centers around my
great-granddaughter. How that weakling, soft-hearted male expects to
win Shampoo's heart is beyond my comprehension.)
Sake, beer, whiskey all well-stocked, only the finer brands
for this establishment. Noodles running a bit low; I shall have to
talk to my supplier about increasing my weekly order. Water into the
sinks, kettle on the stove for those unfortunate accidents which
continually plague this neighborhood... and the clock reads half past
five, time to wake the blind idiot up and set him to work.
Yet another thankless day in Nerima.
WHITE LIGHTNING PRODUCTIONS
PRESENTS
A fan story of Ranma 1/2
based on the manga and anime series created by Rumiko
Takahashi, (c) 1997 Shogakukan
GOLDEN YEARS
by Kris Overstreet
(All characters in this fic are the property of
Takahashi-sama. Not for profit. Please don't sue.)
Seven in the morning, and the breakfast rush begins as the
citizens of Nerima begin their trek here and there to work, some here
in the neighborhood, others in other suburbs, but most in downtown
Tokyo, in the spirit-breaking drudgery which is the ultimate failing
of the modern Japanese society.
It's not so bad that the men are kept docile, by and large, in
this manner; however, the thought that such servile men lord it at
home over even more servile women sends me now and again into a fury
which I quell by either burdening Mousse with another pointless,
thankless chore or six, or doing something to Son-in-Law.
Since Mousse is currently doing a fairly competent job of
dealing with customers, and more importantly since he has only
declared his undying love to Great-Granddaughter twice this morning, I
decide to focus my efforts on Son-in-Law. Fortunately, today is a
school holiday, which means my plan- oh, yes, I have a plan, I work on
the problem of Son-in-Law's infidelity all the time- will not
interfere with the vital process of education.
I have no objection to the concept of education- far from it.
In fact, this is what would make Son-in-Law such a prize catch... his
education, even as limited as it is by Japanese standards, will help
bring out village forward into the next century. Shampoo will be the
leader of our people eventually... and she will need a strong husband,
with a knowledge of both worlds, to help her guide our people.
I chose not to send Shampoo to school with Ranma for two
reasons: first, I feel her education in our native ways and laws to be
more important for her future; and second, the resulting commotion of
having the two in the same school would totally prohibit any sort of
education at all.
In any case, my plan is simplicity itself. Son-in-Law has
never officially acknowledged his marriage to Shampoo. Sure, he claims
her as a fiancee, but he also protests loudly any effort to force her-
or anybody- onto him. On several occasions, I have attempted to
convince him, trick him, or coerce him into acknowledging the
engagement, to no avail. This plan has as much chance of success as
any other... if it fails, no lasting harm is done, and if it succeeds,
well Great-Granddaughter and I can quit this horrid little empire and
return home for good.
I prepare a special bowl of breakfast ramen for Son-in-Law...
and add several others for that bottomless-stomached, totally amoral,
worthless lump of manhood which is his father. To Son-in-Law's bowl I
add a small amount of chemical, an agent which subdues emotional
extremes and causes mild, temporary, psychoactive changes to the
brain.
Obviously this is not the first time I- or Shampoo- have
attempted to slip something into Ranma's system. Ranma, being the
suspicious sort he is, will no doubt insist that Shampoo taste it
first.
Which is precisely what I want to happen.
Once the breakfast rush fades, I give another bowl of ramen to
Shampoo to give to Mousse. As I expect, he becomes rapt with joy that
his 'beloved' has deigned to pay the least bit of attention to him
that he completely misses Shampoo departing for the Tendo dojo.
I just can't see how Mousee can maintain his delusions of love
with Shampoo. She has made it obvious time and again that she has no
interest in a man who will not raise a finger to harm her, much less
defeat her in battle as Ranma does. Shampoo cannot love a weakling,
and for all his skills in combat, Mousse is weak in the mind; unless
he can defeat her in combat, he has no chance with her. I permit his
presence because he is a hard worker, and also this way I have some
measure of control over his actions. Considering the number of plans
his interference has ruined as it is, I can only shudder at what
damage his incompetent meddling could wreak without my restraining
influence.
Of course, if Mousse interferes too often, I might have to
consider eliminating him completely. I will let nothing stand between
my great-granddaughter and her destiny... which includes a long, happy
marriage to Ranma Saotome.
And -not- to the fool Mu Tsu.
The plan proceeds as I expected. Shampoo is not a demure,
subdued woman, completely unaware of her change in personality. Mousse
is overwrought, and of course he suspects me, but at the moment he is
off pestering Son-in-Law for his involvement. Any moment I expect
Son-in-Law to confront me and demand the antidote for Shampoo... which
I will give him only upon his solemn oath to marry Shampoo.
Sure enough, almost to the second I had estimated, Ranma
storms in like a righteous wind, and like a wind he blows loud and
long, insulting me, accusing me, demanding me, even going so far as to
preach to me about how cold and callous I am to toy with my heir's
mind so for the sake of a petty Amazon law.
Fool. You know nothing of love, or destiny, or Amazon law.
If the law interfered with my daughter's happiness, I would
see it destroyed. Fortunately, however, our law was designed to test
our people, and guide them to the happiest of all possible worlds. If
a woman defeats an Amazon, the defeated must hunt them down and kill
them; this is a law made not merely to drive off interlopers, but to
weed out the weak and foolish in our people. If a man defeats an
Amazon, the defeated must marry them; this is a law which not only
infuses new, strong blood, into our race, but provokes the men of our
people to greater efforts, to prevent their childhood loves from
running off with some goat-faced hick from old Manchuria.
And I would never leave Shampoo this way; in fact, the effect
will wear off by tomorrow morning by itself, leaving
Great-Granddaughter the same energetic, impulsive young girl she
normally is. A day of chemically-induced change is a small price to
pay if it insures her lifelong happiness.
I hear a clattering behind me; Mousse is in my spice cabinet,
he has the antidote in his hands. A splash from the sink puts a stop
to this insurrection, and a light tap on the head keeps duck-boy
quiet. I put the spice back into the cabinet, shut it securely, and
return to putting the pressure on Son-in-Law.
Ranma is obviously wavering. I have no illusions about him
loving Shampoo in a romantic fashion- that can come later. However, he
does regard Shampoo as a friend, and from what I know of his past, he
has precious few people whom he can call friend at all. The fact that
he considers Ryouga, a persistent rival, occasional mortal foe, and
permanent annoyance, his friend, speaks volumes for the misery his
childhood has been. This eagerness to latch on to anyone as a 'friend'
is a weakness I can exploit... a few more seconds, and the words shall
spill from his lips, irrevocable.
Shampoo leaps into the room, slamming herself atop Ranma,
loudly greeting her 'airen' and 'wo ai ni' and crushing his rib cage.
In the corner of my eye, I see Akane Tendo, the spice canister in her
hands- Akane Tendo, that interfering girl, why would she restore
Shampoo as an apparent rival? Perhaps I have underestimated her
cunning...
... alas, Ms. Tendo, you would make a great Amazon, but we are
enemies for now... and if all other options are exhausted, I shall
have to eliminate you myself.
In any case, my plans are obviously undone, and it is nearing
time for the lunch rush, so I acknowlege my defeat and prepare the
kitchen. Reluctantly, Shampoo obeys me and releases Son-in-Law, who I
suspect will soon have much explaining to do to Ms. Tendo. (The
prospect amuses me; were circumstances different, I would wish those
two all the best of each other. Alas, destiny calls.)
Hot water wakes Mousse up, and I set him to cleaning out the
back alley. He will find the garbage to have tripled since this
morning; how this happens is one of my little secrets. Perhaps next
time he will not be so quick to interfere with my plans.
Night comes all too quickly for one as old as I am.
The restraunt is silent. Shampoo is dreaming happy dreams of
Son-in-Law, and Mousse has finally finished polishing the floors and
has crawled into bed. I sit atop the restraunt's roof and contemplate
the lights of Tokyo.
I am a creature of the past, bent and shrunken by the weight
of wisdom the years have gifted me with. My days are numbered, perhaps
I might pass on in my sleep tonight, or perhaps I will live another
two hundred years, but eventually I must pass on to meet the
ancestors.
And yet I cannot leave, not yet.
I am the past of my people, and Shampoo is the future... and I
cannot leave my great-granddaughter with the prospect of a lonely,
miserable future, alone, unmarried, shouldering the burdens of guiding
the Amazons into the new world alone.
It is said, back in the village, that I can abide no weakness,
that I will find what is weak and weed it out.
Perhaps there is something weak in me, for here I am, weeded
out of the village, attempting to guide my impulsive heir and her
irresponsible fiancee together, wasting the golden years of my life in
the attempt to insure the golden years for them.
It is a thankless job, a lonely job, a job I wish sometimes
could be left behind.
And yet I cannot let it go.
Ah, well. Sleep comes not easily to me, and a martial artist
needs her rest.
And for as long as I have new days to awake to, I will watch
over Shampoo, and the Amazons, and guide them onward.
And if I die, I will go to my ancestors proud of my legacy,
and secure in the knowledge that my great-granddaughter will carry on
for me.
I can only hope that I leave her happy.
Sleep.
*AUTHOR'S NOTE*
This is a short story which portrays the view of Cologne I
see- conniving, treacherous, and yet also caring and care-ridden, with
her own goals, loves, and desires.
I object to any portrayal of Cologne as an evil creature, with
no personality other than required to make Ranma miserable. Even
though Takahashi does tend on occasion to paint her characters with
broad strokes, there are rounded characters in Ranma 1/2, and to my
mind Cologne is one of the most interesting. She deserves better than
to be a demon, a ghoul, or a simple plot device.
Ahem. Done preaching now.
Redneck (my first Ranma 1/2 fic, whatcha think?)