Preamble.
This is my first submission into the FFML, and so
please email me at dojohouse@xoommail.com if there are any problems.
The rest of my work, and there isn't that much (yet) can be found at
http://members.xoom.com/dojohouse
Also go there for the more spiced up html version of this submission.
(I'd prefer it if you read it from there)
This is chapter one of a new series entitled:
Way of the
Ninjitsu.
A Fanfiction by Jason Wong.
Inspired by Ruminko Takahashi's
Ranma 1/2.
Chapter 1. A New way of
Life.
Genma sighed in abject frustration as he watched the
rapidly disappearing dust cloud which had formerly been
his son. *Foolish boy*, he thought miserably. *Now our
dinnertime is delayed because I have to chase after you.*
Sighing once again at the total unfairness of it all, he
wearily resigned to trudging after the wayward child.
The general tranquility of the township of Hashima was
abruptly disturbed by the shockingly instantaneous arrival
of a certain pigtailed boy - at least in appearance a boy.
However, the furtively darting eyes of the said child
betrayed him as perhaps something else - added to that
the four legged crouching stance and the quiet mewling
emanating from his throat, and it could be safely surmised
that the rather dirtied 7 year old was not totally in control of
his faculties. It was not surprising then that the majority of
the populace wisely chose to avert their curious gazes, in
the vain hope that if they didn't look at it, it would go away.
For the cat infected child, the mind processes were
infinitely more simple. He was aware of only 2 things:
firstly, he was very hungry, and secondly, where there were
people it was very probable that food was nearby. As far
as he was concerned he would worry about everything
else after the first of these 2 thoughts were satisfied. Upon
coming to this conclusion, the 'neko-ed' young boy at once
attuned his senses to the detection of any edible
substances in convenient proximity.
"Do you reckon we should, you know, like find
somebody to deal with this?" commented a bystander.
After all the poor kid was probably a danger to himself in
such a mental state.
His friend replied between the bites of his Western style
sandwich. "Naw, just leave it be - the authorities will be
around soon enough to collect the poor bugger" He
paused as the said 'poor bugger' swiveled its gaze upon
him, and more importantly, upon the food item clutched in
his hands. That would have been disconcerting enough,
but the wild ferocious ferality in the child's gaze - totally
out of sync with his child's face was very disturbing to
behold.
The cat quickly honed his eyes (and nose) at the tasty
morsel nearby. Yowling with glee he leapt for the prize,
unmindful or totally ignoring the hand (not to mention the
rest of the body) attached to it.
The targeted man didn't even have time to cry out, as he
was bowled over by a growling bundle of boy which
latched with astounding strength upon his lunch. Coming
to a quick (and incidentally very wise) decision he decided
to relinquish his meal and flee. So focused he was upon
running he didn't even notice the slash marks which had
tattered the sleeve of his once intact shirt.
"DAMMITT boy, where the hell are you?" Genma
shouted in frustration. Despite appearances to the
contrary he was starting to get worried for his son (well, at
least a little). In the state which Genma had last
observed the boy, he was in no condition to be prancing
about on his own. That training manual never said
ANYTHING about the trainee turning into a cat and
running amok. Sighing for perhaps the 34th time, the
beleaguered father resolved to continue his search.
Passing a local ramen stand, he decided that plans could
perhaps be re-adjusted. *Eat first, find boy later. After all
it's not the first time I've lost him, and it's much easier to
look for him on a full stomach.*
**************
Some 200 metres away from a certain ramen guzzling,
bald-headed martial artist, another figure was walking
casually across the town's main road. Actually, the term
walking was possibly a bad choice - it was more of a
glide. The figure seemed to waft in and out of the shadows
(more in than out), lengthened by the setting afternoon
Sun. When visible it could be ascertained that the person
was indeed female, tall with a dancer's litheness whose
remarkable slenderness was mostly concealed under a
pair of baggy matt black trousers and a dark grey short
sleeve shirt - an overall rather dull attire. However, for the
lady in question it more than served its purpose - that to
conceal rather than display - and functionality in her mind
was always dominant over aesthetics. She would indeed
have been totally unremarkable in the environment were it
not for the fact that the woman was observing with great
interest a certain 'cat-boy' which as of yet had failed to
attract sufficient attention to warrant the calling of the
police or any other authority, for that matter. Speaking
quietly to herself she murmured,
"Amazing, that HAS to be the Nekoken...that is, if
Master Kagora's description is accurate." (and Master
Kagora's descriptions were always accurate).
Her suspicions were quickly confirmed when the object of
her scrutiny almost casually reached up to a passing sheaf
of waste paper and swung at it. The fact that the scrap,
despite having clearly missed his swing by a good 2 feet,
disintegrated into hash was to her eyes simply astounding.
Recalling her numerous chi manipulation lessons at the
sanctuary, she deftly glided over to the unfortunate soul to
offer some much needed assistance. And just as deftly
leaped out of the way as the boy swirled in her direction
with mind boggling speed, hissing menacingly.
It was at this point she remembered exactly the details
of the tuition from her Master concerning the Nekoken. It
wasn't much - apparently nobody in their clan knew very much
of this ancient technique, but what she recalled was horrifying
enough.
*A contained area, such as a pit of approximately 25 by
25 feet, with at least 10 feet depth, is required as the
training ground. In it must be placed at least a dozen or
so cats which have been denied sustenance for at least
3 days. The trainee must be of an age under ten, to
ensure that they are unable to summon the strength to
ward off the cats. To complete the technique, the trainee
must be wrapped in fish products (sausages, raw fish,
paste and the like), and secured in the pit. Given time
the Nekoken should emerge naturally in his/her array of
techniques.*
The lady grimaced in distaste at the terrible image of this
pitiful child vainly attempting to bat away a multitudes of
hungry mouths. Her brief analysis of his chi revealed that
he had only recently 'learned' the artform - perhaps as
early as a day or so. Tentatively, reaching out to the
cowering child she attempted to quell his hostility with
reassuring noises. "Shhhh, quiet now. It's allll right now.
Shhhhh."
Actually she felt a little silly making soothing noises to a
human boy, but the resolution to help was by far a more
dominant drive. The child eyed her suspiciously, startling
her a little with his very feral gleam, but reluctantly
submitted to her light petting. Once the needed contact
had been established, the woman closed her eyes briefly,
and murmured to herself. The hand stroking the child's
head was seen to glow a luminous blue, before the boy
slumped almost relievingly to the ground - fast asleep.
Task completed, the lady swiftly gathered the child in her
arms, and despite his weight wafted away, out of the town.
****************
Ranma Saotome awoke to an unusual feeling. By the
constant sway of the stars in his vision it was obvious that
he was moving, and the swiftly passing forest line
indicated that it really was quite fast. But it was equally
clear that his legs were currently inactive, and the
movement was too smooth in any case to be warranted
for natural foot patterns. It was then that the exhausted
child noticed the more critical facts - that he was being
carried by somebody, and that somebody was most
certainly NOT his father. In fact he realised it was a lady,
and also totally unfamiliar to him. Jerking awake at the
realisation, he cried out to her, the defiance in his tone a
striking contrast to its child's treble.
"Wha- hey, w-who the hell are you? Where am I? Put me
dow..."
"Such language from one so young." she interrupted,
chiding gently. "There is little need to fear now, I'm taking
you to my home. Rest for now - you are clearly very tired
little one."
Ordinarily Ranma would have leapt out of her arms
anyway, but she was right, he felt utterly exhausted - more
drained than he had ever experienced in his short life. And
she sounded sooo comforting, a lilt to her voice which
seemed to drain his suspicions away. Despite the
bizarreness of the situation, the young boy felt himself
drifting away again.
"Where are you taking me?" he sleepily demanded.
"To the house of Clan Shinkasa" was the answer he dimly
perceived before drifting off.
*****************
Genma had now decided that it was time to be worried.
In all their time Ranma had never failed to return to the
campsite before dark. The problems of locating that
dratted boy was compounded by the fact that he couldn't
seek the assistance of the authorities - much too many
problems with the odd thieving and conning he had used
to keep the pair going throughout the years. It hadn't
occurred to him yet that maybe, just MAYBE, it was a bad
idea to force the Nekoken upon his son. The boy had
better turn up by tomorrow or else........
Actually, Genma wasn't sure what he'd do. Ah well,
tomorrow was another day, and he wasn't about to go
bumbling after Ranma in the dark. Why couldn't the
foolish boy just learn the damn technique and get it over
without all this nonsense?
He headed to his bed roll disconsolately, and eventually
settled into a troubled sleep, dreaming of vicious cat boys
who attacked defenseless old fathers, stole their food, and
eventually ran away.
*****************
Mount Yamakaro was famous to the locals in that if offered
one of the truly most beautiful vistas and natural wonders
to be found for miles around. It was by no means a large
mountain - indeed in this country of continuous rugged
ridges and peaks that made Japan, it was quite
insignificant in terms of height or body. But the ever
present fog which seemed to hover plaintively around its
peak, the clean flowing lines which comprised its
silhouette, where it sat nestled above a forest of Sakura,
pines, yew and she-oaks seemed to draw from those who
beheld it a sense of mystique - a wonder at the almost
fairy tale nature to its existence. To the locals as well,
however, Mount Yamakaro was also a sanctuary, because
along the east slope of its bulk resided an entire
compound of houses, training grounds, walkways,
contemplation glades and whatnot which was collectively
known as the 'House of Clan Shinkasa'.
Clan Shinkasa had resided there for as long as people
could remember - which meant around three thousand
years. It had survived the ever shifting fortunes and favours
of the Samurai Era and Tokugawa Shogunate, the
ravages of a World War, and the ultra-rapid modernisation
of the 20th century all because of one reason. Clan
Shinkasa was a self-styled 'orthodox' ninja and shadow art
training centre. Self-sufficient in basic needs, it was only
dependant on the outer world for rarer goods - metals,
skilled craftsmen, and the like. The locals around
Yamakaro mountain were all aware of the Shinkasa
presence - unlike other more infamous ninja groups, the
Clan openly encouraged others to visit their grounds - it
was simply that like their ancestors before them, they
tended to avoid giving outsiders the 'show and tell'.
As far back as people could remember (again, three
thousand years) there had always been a beneficial
agreement between the Shinkasa and the people around
it. In return for regular supplies and services, the members
of the ninja group offered their unconditional protection,
and in addition would willingly train anyone they deemed fit
both psychologically and physically in their art. This
agreement had kept the locals safe for all time, and the
ninjas 'in business'. Amongst the people there, it was
considered a great honour to be invited to join to learn the
Shinkasa shadow art - and thus even in present times
when in reality there were no more marauding samurai
armies or raiding bandits to 'protect' the villagers from,
Clan Shinkasa still enjoyed both a healthy lifestyle and a
convenient anonymity in the greater world. There were
enough members and willing trainees to keep the martial
masters occupied, and the tradition of ninjitsu alive in the
modern world.
It was in a particular building inside this particular
compound that a young lady was beseeching with her
mentor.
"Master Kagora, I ask that you re-consider. I found the boy
obviously abused by his guardians. Those cuts and
abrasions, as well as the evidence of past bruising show
clearly that he has led a very violent life."
The man she was addressing rose gracefully from his
lotus position. In a mildly irritated tone, he replied. "Now
you know as well as I do, Meyah, that the boy is obviously
a martial artist in training. Their teaching methods are not
as ours - those bruisings are natural in one such as him."
*But for one so young*, she commented to herself under
her breath. Toward her sensei she added. "What of his
undernourished and bedraggled state? A martial artist he
may be, but do you consider it part of his training to be
running about like a beggar vagabond? You have sensed
the potential in him, Master, - under our guidance he can
grow to be one of the Masters of our art."
"Meyah, think wisely of what you propose. You are taking
a *registered* citizen of Japan - no *stealing* a registered
citizen of Japan from his lawful guardians. By all rights you
should have returned him immediately to them." He
paused, as if in consideration. "You are correct in that he
indeed has the power - but taking him into our care draws
undue attention from the authorities. Consider the
ramifications if his guardians summon the police to search
for their lost charge. In any case he is an outsider to our
community, and he holds no reason to be loyal to Clan
Shinkasa." At this, the Master Kagora closed his eyes in
weariness. It was much too early in the morning to be
arguing with his former student. What ever happened to
the peaceful hours of meditation?
Meyah decided then that she had to play her final trump
card. "Master, I must add, that the child has also learnt the
Nekoken."
The response was immediate. Kagora stiffened
noticeably in surprise. Without opening his eyes, he
queried softly. "Are you quite sure of this - he knows the
Catfist?"
"Master, I saw the Nekoken manifested in the boy with my
own eyes. When I came upon him he was shredding a
wooden board with his bare fingers."
"Interesting.." the ninja master mused. "A boy who has
both mastered AND survived the Nekoken training. Such
an example has not been seen for at least half a century."
His voice darkened a little, "and I had hoped it would have
been longer." He paused in his regular pacing, blissfully
unaware that he was leaving his student hanging with
suspense. After several long seconds he turned towards
Meyah. "Fine then, when he is rested and refreshed, bring
the boy to me, and I will confer with him." He observed
amusedly at the expression of relief washing over his
student's face.
"Thank you Master Kagora - I promise you, you will not
regret this."
He waved her off. "I haven't decided as of yet whether he
will stay. In addition, it is very unwise to make promises
you cannot guarantee, Meyah."
Bowing from the waist, Meyah departed swiftly and glided
towards her rooms, where her charge was sleeping.
****************
Ranma awoke to the very pleasant smell of fresh pork,
steamed rice, miso soup, and an assortment of fried
vegetables. Years of travelling with his father, always
dubious as to their next meal had instilled with him an
acute awareness to the subject of food - hence he was
able to make a fair assessment of the breakfast nearby
without having opened his eyes.
Performing that action confirmed his analysis of the meal.
Needing no further encouragement from his growling
stomach, Ranma automatically fell to the food with
impressive gusto. After a moment he paused an looked
around guiltily. Perhaps this meal was meant for
somebody else. Shrugging, he continued with the
devouring. Pops always said that anything you could eat
was rightfully yours. It was also during his continuous
intake that he noticed for the first time that the clothes he
wore were certainly not his - jet black kung-fu style
trousers combined with an equally matt black silk shirt tied
off with string at the cuffs. A rather surprising change from
his usual white gi, but they were quite comfortable - if a
little large for his frame.
"Ah, I see you have found the breakfast I prepared for
you." a voice commented, mildly amused at the speed
with which the said meal was rapidly disappearing. At his
sheepish hesitation she added hastily, "No no, keep going
child. I enjoy watching somebody appreciate his victuals."
*Though you could have 'appreciated' it with somewhat
better table manners.*
In short time Ranma had finished the meal, as well as the
second helping offered. With a full belly (something he
hadn't felt for a long while), he found himself considerably
more at ease with his anonymous benefactor. His child's
brief once over analysis judged her to be somebody
trustworthy (at least for now). She was dressed as
yesterday in black trousers and grey shirt, chestnut hair
styled in a practical shoulder length, which matched the air
of functionality and simplicity that she inherently radiated.
At least as far as his child's perspective could tell, she
seemed quite pretty - though rather more striking as
opposed to possessing feminine beauty. His martial
artist's eyes could detect the poise and the almost water
flowing grace with her every move which revealed her to
be skilled in some form of art or another. Overall, he
surmised that if it weren't for the fact that she had fed him -
he would have been distinctly wary of such a person.
Thus it was with some trepidation that he answered her
first query of, "So tell me child, do you have a name to go
with your face?"
"Uhh, I..uhhh. My name's Ranma. Saotome Ranma that
is." He responded in kind. "What's yours?"
Smiling at his growing confidence she replied. "Shinkasa
Meyah."
"umm. Pleased to meet you Shinkasa-san, I guess" He
was rather tongue-tied - after all he never really talked to
anybody let alone this strange martial arts lady.
"Please, call me Meyah - we don't have that many
formalities around here. So.. " she paused to arrange her
thoughts. "It appears to me that you are a martial artist, is
that not so?"
Now on more familiar territory, Ranma puffed up a little in
pride. "Yeah sure I am. I'm the heir to the Mutsabeto
Kakuto Ryu - the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts.
Poppa says that I gotta to train to be the best of the best
or else" here his face quirked into a peculiar expression,
"I'll never be a man....or something like that. Poppa
never really explained that too well."
She mused upon this, it wouldn't sit well with the master
that she had 'procured' an heir to a martial arts school -
that would probably mean that the resident arts master
wouldn't be too keen on losing his or her successor. Of
course she had little fear of retribution - Clan Shinkasa
was very well guarded - but still it could generate plenty of
unwanted publicity. Breaking the direction of her thoughts
she turned back to the original goal about finding out more
concerning her newly adopted charge. During their brief
chat she was able to attain a summarised synopsis of
Ranma's upbringing - not that there was very much to it.
Simply a series of training sessions, followed by training
grounds, more training, some time with various martial
arts trainers - his father, Genma was the name, seemed
pretty single-minded. Indeed, Ranma eventually revealed
that training had been the reasons for their stay at
Hashima. However, she had more pressing matters to
attend to now. "So, Ranma, if it is alright with you, I'd like
to take you to see my Sensei. We are both rather curious
to a certain technique I believe you've been taught - the
Nekoken?"
Upon registering that word, the boy was seen to almost
reflexively cringe. It was then that Meyah was reminded
that he was still recovering from the trauma of its teaching
methods. Still, his natural willfulness shone through, and
the young martial artist visibly shook himself to rid the
disturbingly familiar images of tearing claws and ravenous
glowing eyes to nod in acceptance. He had one problem
though. "Meyah-san, I really gotta get back to Poppa - he's
kinda strict on me not runnin' away too long."
He received a kind, abeit rather forced smile. "I'm sure
your father won't mind waiting a little while longer - he IS a
grown man after all".
Ranma shrugged dubiously, but followed her in the end.
During the walk towards the main centre, he took a long
moment to analyse his temporary guardian - perhaps a
friend? - in any case it was a habit borne out of the
constant surprises his father seemed to hide with his
dealings with other people. After the first time being
assaulted by an angry Rice vendor (he never figured out
why the guy was angry, or why he was doing any
assaulting for that matter), the boy had quickly learned to
scout out any and all potential fighters.
The person quietly leading him was DEFINITELY some
cause for concern in that field. He had known she was
some kind of martial artist from the brief movements
observed in the confines of her home, but she inherently
revealed much more in her casual floating gait which
served her as her 'normal' walking style. Ranma couldn't
place his finger on it, but something seemed.'not quite
right' with the way she moved. He was familiar enough
with the physical signs of a martial artist (for a 7 year old
at least), but this was something else. For want of a better
image that his child's mind could conjure up, it was as if
her body was independent of the floor she moved upon -
although paradoxically it was clear that she was still a part
of it.
Turning his senses to the greater surroundings he noticed
at once the faint 'kiyahs', 'hiyahs', and other combat noises
wafting through the air. Meyah turned to observe his rather
cute pose - head cocked in an obvious listening manner
and supplied the information to his clear curiosity. "Those
are the novices in their morning training sessions. They
have as of yet not learned to perform their arts in silence."
That only served to pique his curiosity even more - What
was it with the silence thingy? None of the masters he had
trained with ever complained about making noises.
Dismissing it for now, he noted what little there was to be
seen through the occasional gaps in the hedges lining the
walkway. This place seemed to be very large and quite
open, with much more land than buildings. The crisply
sharp morning air, tinged with the moisture of dew was
wondrous to inhale, and Ranma appreciated it with deep
breaths.
In time, they eventually reached their destination - a largish
rectangular building constructed in the traditional medieval
Japanese style - the ricepaper screens lining its walls
signifying it to be a dojo of sorts. As a form of
encouragement, Meyah gave her charge a brief summary
of what was to come.
"The man you will meet is Shinkasa Kagora. He was my
sensei for many years. He will introduce our Clan, and
perhaps show you a little of what we do here." She added
for the benefit of her charge's combat background, "As a
master of our art, he is very skilled in fighting forms."
That final point certainly drew Ranma's attention. Pops
had taken him to many 'masters' of martial arts. Nodding
his understanding, he somewhat tentatively followed her
into the room. The man in question was standing towards
one side of the dojo, gazing thoughtfully into space. He
appeared to Ranma's eyes to be somewhere over sixty
years of age, which put him well into the 'old man'
category. Serious eyes and the slight frown to his features
revealed weathered lines brought on by years spent
outdoors. But from the moment he turned to greet the new
arrivals, the boy could easily sense the same 'floating'
glide to his movements - moreso even than in Meyah. He
fixed a rather enigmatic smile upon the child standing a
little nervously before him, before turning to his student
expectantly.
Meyah silently padded closer, and whispered two words
which seemed familiar to Ranma, despite his inability to
hear what they were. The 'master' in response nodded
once and quietly commanded, "See one of the spy
masters and find out all you can about this character."
His student bowed once, then swiftly exited the dojo,
offering a reassuring smile to Ranma as she left.
Tentatively, Ranma opened the conversation, "Are you a
martial artist like Meyah?"
"Not quite, child, we don't usually consider ourselves
martial artists..actually, we're more of a ninja clan here."
Ranma jerked noticeably and fought down a reflexive
look of disgust. Pops hadn't taught him much other than
Anything Goes, but he had heard enough of the legends of
the ninja tribes. By all accounts they were honourless
bands whose services could be bought for a monetary fee
- services such as murder, assassination, thieving and the
like. His father had stressed to him frequently that they
were always to be guarded against because unlike the
'true' martial artists, ninjas had no concept of Bushido (the
warrior's code), and would readily resort to, as Genma
had said, 'backstabbing' methods to win.
"I see you may have heard of our kind." Kogara
commented dryly at Ranma's obvious ill-concealed
distaste. "I am well aware of our image amongst the
people Ranma - I only ask that you see for yourself what
we do before passing judgement. In fact, why don't you
come with me, and I can take you on a little tour of the
grounds?"
Ranma considered this. The discovery of the dubious
origins of his 'rescuer' (Meyah had already provided him
with a general description of his mental state when they
had 'met') did not match with her generally amiable
appearance, nor with this friendlyish character next to him.
In the end he accepted the offer. Heir to Anything Goes or
not, he didn't favour his chances of escaping a ninja clan
house if they chose to keep him. Kogara for his part was
actually glad that the child appeared altogether rather
na���ve to be trusting a self-proclaimed ninja master - he'd
been long accustomed to having to spend hours with
outsiders (rare as they were) to earn even a semblance of
trust.
As they walked, Kogara patiently quizzed his companion
on his origins and history, and Ranma thus found himself
repeating much of what he had said to Meyah to the
inquisitive man. When they reached the subject of
Ranma's recent trials with a certain pitfull of cats the
conversation came to a disjointed halt - the boy was
understandably still terrified dealing with his traumatic
experience, despite his father's insistence that the 'foolish
boy' was just behaving like a coward. "You know Ranma, it
was specifically because of your treatment to learn the
Nekoken that I wanted you to stay here awhile before
returning you to your father." Kogara offered no more to
say, and Ranma reluctantly suppressed his curiosity.
Eventually, the pair came upon an open courtyard some
hundred by fifty metres in length, bare except for around
thirty or so wooden posts dotted about in seemingly
random fashion which were driven into the soft earth. To
most of these posts were attached what Ranma
recognised as being straw practice dummies, arranged in
various semblances of human postures. What was
perhaps unusual was that the trainees, all dressed in
ninja's black, stood poised for action, but with their backs
to their respective dummies. In fact, the boy noticed
quickly, they appeared to look everywhere BUT directly at
their supposed targets.
"The ninjas here are practicing their protection and
bodyguard skills," supplied Kogara by way of explanation.
Suddenly a flash of silver arced across the compound, its
origins unknown, to be deftly blocked by a trainee armed
with a bo-staff. This was followed by an arrow from
another direction, several volleys of shuriken, a few axes -
all of which were either blocked or deflected by the visible
ninjas. All of them that is except a lone dagger which
managed to slip through the defenses and embed itself in
the skull of a hapless straw dummy.
"The object of this exercise is to 'protect' your dummy from
the attacks. Obviously young Shikinazawa over there
needs more work. Her dummy has just lost half his brains
from that dagger. In any case you can see here that not all
our time is spent murdering and pillaging." His last
comment hinted at sarcasm, to which Ranma winced in
sympathy, before noticing something.
"Kogara-san, is that ninja a she?" Ranma asked
incredulously.
"Why yes," Kogara's tone was deceptively mild, "is there
some problem with that?"
"But, b-but, she's a she! I mean you don't let girls fight here
too do you?" The boy's eyes had widened considerably in
shock.
"But of course. To deny females the right to learn our art
cuts out half the population of potential artists."
"Pops says it's VERY dishonourable to let girls fight. He
says that it's the job of a martial artist to protect the weak,
and girls are weaker than boys."
Kogara dryly murmured, "Perhaps one day I'll have your
father spar with one of the better women and see if she
can't change his mind." Seeing Ranma's confusion, he
added, "Ranma, take it from me that your father is gravely
mistaken in his judgement. Yes indeed, it is correct that
the average female has a lower physical capacity than the
average male but, such factors as speed, dexterity, not to
mention intelligence and skill are NOT gender specific."
Ranma's doubt was still written on his face. Kogara
sighed resignedly. "Perhaps it would be better if you
yourself sparred with a girl."
"Uh uh, I ain't doin' that. Not now or never."
"Yes, yes, well shall we continue?"
****************
Genma Saotome cursed the Gods again for the ill luck
which had bestowed upon him such an irritating son.
Ranma had not turned up last night, and as of yet had
failed to appear at the camp site. His consultation of the
Nekoken training manual had yielded no clues, only the
standard "This technique is very VERY dangerous!-" blah
blah blah, "-not to be attempted under any circumstances-
" blah blah blah blah "-may cause severe mental trauma-"
yahda yahda. In all truth Genma was concerned for his son
- after all the weak minded boy may have bitten off more
than he could chew by attempting to conquer the Nekoken.
"Oh my son, why could you not be a man and learn the
technique with the same dignity as any true martial artist?"
Genma wailed to the heavens, "Now I have to waste my
time and effort hunting you down because of your
damnable cowardice." Genma Saotome did NOT
approve of Anything Goes heirs gallivanting around the
countryside behaving like some common feline. Certainly
Genma had never behaved so dishonourably under
Master Happousai's tutelage.
****************
"Here is where the higher level students train for the most,"
explained Kogara as they observed yet another training
ground (the fifth in the tour so far). "Watch that boy over
there, second from the left. He has just returned from an
ancient village in China after training there for a year in
some of their special techniques."
The subject of their scrutiny was currently facing off
against a master - as designated by her gold headband
(Ranma cringed as he saw yet another female in the line
of fire) - and appeared unarmed as opposed to his
sensei's wooden training naginata. At her nod, he
crouched low and leapt towards her blade with arms held
outstretched, a suicidal move from Ranma's perspective.
The young child's eyes widened as the attacker appeared
to reach into his sleeves during flight, and pull out two full
sized bokkens, apparently defying several laws of physics
as well as obvious logic. He fell to with a vengeance on
her defence, hacking with both arms but unable to pass
her swirling wooden blade head. Ranma was amazed at
the dexterity displayed by both combatants - arms twisting
in graceful combinations of patterns which were centuries
old, a counterpoint to the rapid klacks of the clashing
wood. Unconsciously he catalogued some of their more
exotic moves for possible integration with his own style
(that was after all the essence of Anything Goes -
flexibility). During a short respite in their duel, the student
was seen to adopt a forward stance, one foot in front of
the other before crying out a very fierce, "KACHU
TENSHIN AMAGURIKEN!"
Before Ranma's startled eyes, the boy's bokken wielding
fists seemed to blur - much too fast for even his seasoned
eyes to track. Despite this, the trainee was unable to land
a blow, as the woman's naginata whipped about in
abandon, the rapid series of ear splitting cracks attesting
to the weapon head's repeated breaking of the sound
barrier. Finally, clearly exhausted beyond measure the
student slumped to one knee panting heavily. Kogara
clapped loudly in applause, only slightly teasing. "Very well
done young man, though when you can perform that attack
SILENTLY, then I'll truly be impressed. With that kind of
shouting you'd have revealed your location to enemies for
miles around."
Blushing furiously, the boy managed to spare enough
energy for a nod of apology in Kogara's direction. "Well
then, shall we go on?" the old master said genially to his
companion. Ranma nodded dumbly, still stunned by the
duel.
***************
Alright. Genma had now decided that he was in something
he very much hated to be in, yet somehow regularly
managed to find himself trapped within. Genma Saotome
was in BIG trouble. Oh yes, he'd found the boy all right.
Inquisition of the locals had revealed that a certain
unknown insane 'cat-boy' had been frequently seen
wondering around the Hashima. With the aid of his fists (it
was amazing how persuasive they could be) he had
managed to extract from a terrified old pot seller that
usually things like that tended to be handled by the local
guardians. Was it just Genma's luck that the said local
guardians just HAPPENED to be a ninja clan? He was
dreadfully worried as to how his son might have been
'dealt' with by such people, and at the same time furious
that the foolish boy had got himself into such difficulties.
Despite Genma's 'encouragement', the pot seller had
been tight-lipped about divulging any further information -
which only caused him more concern since he assumed
that suggested that the ninjas were ruthless indeed to be
keeping such a tight security. Sighing mightily, and cursing
the three banes of his livelihood (Kami-sama, luck, and
the foolishness of his son), Genma tried vainly to come up
with some form of plan to get his son back. After all,
Nodoka would kill him (literally) otherwise.
***************
It was getting late into the afternoon. Ranma had spent the
entire day being led around the Clan compound, his
amazement and awe at the multitude of wonders erasing
totally the memory that he was supposed to have returned
to his father some time ago. What was perhaps most
surprising to his young eyes was the fact that despite
being educated to the contrary, it was quite clear that
much of what was taught at the ninja centre was in fact not
related to combat and ingenious ways to maim and kill.
Far from it, through his tour he had in addition seen
several meditation glades, music and singing classes,
what appeared to be basic schooling in reading and
writing, and to top it all, a Shinto temple - complete with
priests and everything! He never imagined religion would
have much of a place in a Ronin tribe. Eventually they
found themselves returning to the master's dojo, to see
Meyah standing patiently at the entryway, awaiting their
arrival. Before greeting her tutor, she turned to Ranma. "I
have prepared a meal for you back in my rooms. Do you
think you'd be able to find your way back there?"
Ranma nervously reached behind his head to scratch at
the base of his small pigtail - a gesture which to Meyah's
eyes was so adorable. "Thanks but I really kinda gotta get
back to Pops now. He'd be really worried for me."
Meyah's eyes narrowed at this. "Somehow I consider that
highly unlikely Ranma. I ask that you stay here for only half-
an-hour or so. There is something very important we need
to discuss concerning your future as a martial artist."
He seemed to consider this, obviously very reluctant for
any more delays. As a way of encouragement, Kogara
said softly, "Fear not that you may miss your father. We
have resources enough that we'd be able to locate him for
you after we settle this matter. Why don't you head off to
Meyah's place, and we'll see you in a few minutes?"
The pigtailed boy nodded dumbly - he hadn't really
understood exactly what the old man had said, but the
general idea appeared that he'd be able to find Pops
despite the long absence. The old man probably wouldn't
mind - he seemed to encourage anything that would
promote the boys martial skills. Bowing to both the adults,
he hastily retreated out of the dojo.
Meyah, noticing his perplexed expression as he left
commented, "You know, he's only a seven year old, he
cannot conceive the ramifications of his future with his
father."
"Yes, it is so easy to forget that he is still much too young
to be that worldly wise. We had a brief sparring match as
a way of assessment. Truly he astounded me at his skills -
certainly of a much higher level than I was at his age. It's
no joke that the heir to Anything Goes aims to be the best
of the best." Eyes narrowing slightly, he added, "Also
during our duel I recalled the origins of that style and
why it bothered me so."
Surprised Meyah awaiting clarification - it was not often
that her master was 'bothered' by anything. He didn't
disappoint her. "Yes, the boy was using moves I haven't
seen in decades - but the last practitioner I saw of that
style was one Grandmaster Happousai."
His student started at this - as his kohai she was very
familiar with that name. Happousai was almost legendary
in his skills; perhaps the only man in Shinkasa history who
was able to walk through any and all ninja guarded areas
seemingly at will - Kagora readily acknowledged him as a
vastly superior warrior to just about any Shinkasa ninja -
himself included. As such, this was reason enough for
even the mighty clan to fear this Happousai.
"I would have thought this Happousai to have been dead
by now - you spoke of your own grandparents
encountering him", whispered Meyah apprehensively.
Kagora's answer was a bitter laugh. "Any who face this
degenerated old troll will quickly come to learn that the
master of Anything Goes NEVER dies. He fought and
defeated my great-grandfather, my grandmother, my
father, and of course myself - truly a plague on the
Shinkasa line. I remember his words as he stood upon my
broken chest. Kagora's brow wrinkled as he attempted a
credible imitation of Happousai's wheedling tone. "I'll be
back, my boy, to fight your child when she's old enough. It
wouldn't do at all to let the mighty Shinkasa grow
contemptuous of Anything Goes now would it? Of course
not. Well, until then toodle doo!"
Meyah shuddered briefly - she had a very personal reason
to dislike that particular comment.
Kogara continued, "I'll warrant old Cologne of the
Joketsuzoku would be the only being in the history of
mankind who stood a chance of beating that perverted
soul - and even she could never kill him."
"All the more reason that we take the child now away from
his father now. As great as Ranma's potential is, surely he
would eventually draw the notice of the founder of Anything
Goes."
"Yes, perhaps. I can't imagine what would happen to the
boy's spirit if it were placed under such tutelage." Kogara
chose that moment to change topics. "So, what did you
manage to discover about this man, Genma Saotome?"
"Ah,, therein lies a tale to be told," Meyah commented
wryly. "You won't believe what our contacts throughout
Japan have to say about THIS man." She then handed him
a stack of typed sheets.
Kogara absently leafed through the gathered information,
his raised eyebrows the only sign of his surprise. *What's
this?* he mused, *long history of petty thefts, stealing of
foods and money throughout all the islands of Japan.*
"Skip that, and read from page five."
There was a pause, and a ruffling of notes. "Engaged?! At
such an age. My, my it seems that Genma Saotome takes
a VERY strong interest in his son's future love life - and so
many candidates too."
"Spymaster Misho found three so far..." She indicated
with her finger, "the Daijkoku, Kuonji, and Mizumo
families. Interestingly enough these three have all at some
stage employed Shinkasa members for information on the
whereabouts of these elusive Saotomes - hence their
quick identification. Give her a week, and I'm sure she can
locate more."
He glanced up from his perusals, obviously impressed. "I
was never aware that Suzaharo Misho was so talented in
her skills. This is a very extensive report for a day's work."
Her response was tinged with sarcasm. "I think we can
attribute that to Genma's lack of tact as opposed to our
extensive network - he has a remarkable skill for
generating enemies."
"Perhaps that skill might be useful if we wish to keep him
busy, yes?" He folded the papers and tucked them into a
voluminous sleeve. "In any case, I've considered deeply
your proposals - and - I've reached the decision that
despite the obvious risks in doing so, Clan Shinkasa will
adopt Ranma Saotome as a clan member.." He raised
a hand to silence her reflexively joyous thanks,
"PROVIDED that young Ranma Saotome is totally
agreeable to this arrangement."
Meyah was more than satisfied with his pronouncement
and with quick thanks swirled around to dart out the door.
With a lighting quickness that belied his advancing years,
Kogara reached out and spun her around to face him
again. "Now, Meyah, encouragement him if you must - but
his final decision MUST be of his own making and not
based on embellishments to the facts provided by
yourself. I will not permit Ranma do be deceived in any
way about the trials he will face in the future if he so
chooses to take the way of the Ninjitsu. Is that very clear?"
his countenance was stern for the first time Meyah had
seen for weeks.
"Yes, Master Kogara. That is absolutely clear." She
retreated at a more respectful pace.
******************
While this discussion was proceeding, not far away
another slight disturbance was breaking the peace of the
natural twilight environment. This disturbance took the
form of a stoutish, heavyset man, resplendent in a grey gi
(it's original colour had been white, but that was years
ago) who was currently lying prone hoping for a glimpse of
his son in the Shinkasa compound.
It was perhaps unfortunate that two of the border guards
had caught a glimpse of him first, and now sat some 15
feet behind the martial artist, discussing with complex
hand gestures on just how to deal with the intruder. After a
few tense seconds they finally agreed that this man
appeared harmless enough that they needn't bother
trussing him up and taking him to headquarters (a forceful
ejection would suffice).
Genma never did discover just what had hit him. To his
credit the ninjas had surprisingly required two blows with
their maces to send him out of commission (the standard
blow to the head only served to plant the target's face in
the damp soil - still groaning). However, after successfully
incapacitating the fat martial artist it was a relatively
simple matter to drag him (none to gently - after all time
was of the essence) to a cart and tote him off the grounds.
**************
Ranma was still immersed in the fine art of food inhalation
when Kagora and Meyah stepped into the room. Making a
mental note in his sorely needed tutelage in basic table
manners, Meyah quietly coughed to announce their
presence. "Ranma, would you mind stopping for moment?
We have some important things to ask you."
Ranma looked up reluctantly - where he came from food
ignored was very quickly a lost cause. Kogara offered, "It
won't take that long."
Kneeling so that he could face the boy eye to eye, he
began. "We've come here to offer you a place in our Clan,
permanently." There was a stunned silence.
"Wha-what? I-I..er...say again?"
"I know you might be a bit young to understand
this...but we are asking if you would stay here with us
rather than return to your father."
The young child only grew more confused.
Meyah chose that moment to join in, "Ranma, your father
did some very bad things, especially to you. If the
authorities knew about what your father did, they would
take him away and put him in jail."
"B-but, I have to become a martial artist. Pops said I need
to do what he tells me or I'll never be his heir, and.."
Kogara interrupted, "Ranma, do you remember the last
thing that your father did to you? Remember the pit with all
the cats?"
The boy reflexively shivered and took a weak step back
from the adults. Eyes shining with the beginnings of tears,
he whimpered, "I didn't like it. I wanted to get out so bad,
but P-poppa wouldn't let me..and then there were all
those eyes looking at me..lotsa eyes a-and."
Meyah's heart wrenched a little as the quivering child
convulsed with suppressed sobs. Instinctively she reached
out to hold him in her arms. Eyes hardening, she looked
toward her sensei. "That settles it. We are NOT letting him
go back to that man." Her glare almost dared him to
disagree.
Kogara raised his hands in placation. "You needn't worry. I
won't oppose you on this, 'daughter' - it would be too
dangerous anyway to let him into society without proper
control of the Nekoken in any case."
At that particular moment, the sobbing child did not seem
a particular threat to anyone.
***************
Far away, on the island of Kyoto another child was quietly
crying, but unlike Ranma she had no warm arms to
comfort and support her. Sniffling once, she furiously
wiped away her blossoming tears, hoping furtively that no
one had seen the spectacle. After all, boys NEVER cried.
Damn you Saotome, damn you, damn you, damn....
***************
It was fated for the next morning that the early risers in the
town of Hashima were to discover a pile of man raggedly
clothed in a dirty gi, dumped unceremoniously in the gutter
of the main thoroughfare. Most turned their head's the
other way - it was not considered prudent to be
associated with any who had run in with the local ninjas.
It was around 10 o'clock in the morning before the pile
finally awoke, groaning heavily and cursing his infernal
headache. At first, Genma was puzzled - he hadn't been
drinking last night, so a hangover was out of the question.
Eventually even his limited brain functionings were able to
determine that perhaps last night's scouting mission
hadn't gone as planned. He cursed those wretched ninjas
for their dishonourable ways (even in Anything Goes it was
still dishonourable to sneak attack an opponent from
behind). Even now they might be corrupting his wretched
son - turning him into some little Yakuza. No, Nodoka
would most certainly not approve. Gulping at her imaged
he groggily arose and headed for the nearest cafeteria. A
little sake would restore his spirits; it didn't matter that he
was broke - that had never stopped him before.
**************
Meyah silently floated out of the room after tucking a now
slumbering Ranma in his provided futon. Outside she met
a quietly observing Kogara. Whispering so as not to wake
their newest Clan member, he commanded, "Tomorrow
Meyah you will become this child's guardian and protector.
You will care for him and teach him what is to be known
about the complexities of life. As it was your firm decision
to adopt this child into Shinkasa, so will his actions be
your responsibility. Even your standing as my daughter will
not save you from retribution by the other masters if
Ranma breaks faith."
Nodding once in acceptance of her additional role, Meyah
responded simply, "Yes Master Kogara, I thank the master
for the honour."
"Come now, we are outside official training time. What
happened to the word 'father'?"
Smiling a little, Meyah corrected herself, "Yes father."
Kogara's brief bemusement ended as he grimly stated,
"Tomorrow as well, Meyah, we will begin Ranma's
educations, and training. I will personally take on his
tutelage in Shinkasa ninjitsu. He is far too powerful to be
trained in the conventional methods, especially with his
knowledge of the Nekoken. It will be a very great trial, both
for him and us, to work him clean of the madness and for
him to be able to voluntarily harness its power. Yes
indeed, a very great trial."
His daughter's eyebrows raised at this - Kogara hadn't
taken on another student since he had finished with herself
- and that had been 4 years ago. Under her father, Ranma
would truly come to know the way of the ninjitsu.
******************
******************
******************
Author's notes.
Well how was that for the opening of a series? I really hate
it when writers leave fanfic series unfinished, so I already
have the entire plan all worked out. It looks like this story is
going to last for a while yet. Hope you liked it enough to
want Chapter 2.
You can find the rest of my works at
http://members.xoom.com/dojohouse
Email me at dojohouse@xoommail.com for C&C and anything else.
Generic statement.
Comments and criticism are always welcome (flame me
if you must), but I won't accept any ethical stuff from
people who hate any particular love match ups which
may or may not occur in this series. I personally don't
really have any objection to any possible girls Ranma
could end up with (although Ukyou is my personal
favourite) - no don't cringe I also like Akane/Ranma,
Shampoo/Ranma etc. ones too, but I've gotta have a
favourite. Every new fanfiction I write will have a different
match up (assuming that is there is any match up at all).
If your particular pairing hasn't come up yet, then tough
rocks - I'll get to it.
Incidentally some things to note.
Ninjitsu is the term to describe the 'art of the shadow
warrior', or the ninja, just as kenjutsu is the art of the kendo
(katanas, bokkens etc.)
Kohai (did you notice that word?) is a term by which a
sensei refers to his/her student.
See you round in Chapter 2. Ranma gets introduced to his
new life.
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