Not a repost -- This is a brand new chapter! ^_^
I Can See Clearly Now!
A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction
M. A. Davis, "Miko"
Co-plotted with Sky Rigdon and Jeffrey Cornish
More ideas from Catbert25 (aka Carrot Glace), Brendan, and
Tom Hayes
Chapter Four: The Mousse Is Loose!
The soft plop of feet hitting pavement behind him didn't
surprise Ranma in the least. In fact, it was becoming such a
familiar sound that he was only surprised or nervous when it
didn't happen.
"Hey, Mousse," Ranma said, without turning around. He
ducked down, allowing a chained blade and a chained mace to
sail over his head, then stood again. "What is it this time?"
"I challenge you, Ranma Saotome!" Mousse declared.
"Oh, man, not again," Ranma said, finally turning around.
"Do we really have to go through with this? Weren't the last
ten fights enough?"
Ignoring his foe's words, Mousse forged ahead with his
carefully chosen speech. "For over a year you've stood
between me and the one I love! Now, finally, I'm going to end
it! When the sun sets tomorrow, you will be defeated and
Shampoo will be mine!"
"Yeah, whatever," Ranma said, turning to leave. "I'm due
for another workout anyway. Name the time and place, and I'll
be there."
"The field behind the school, tomorrow, at 6:00 p.m.!"
Mousse said.
"You got it," Ranma said. "And, this time, at least try to
make it interesting, okay? I almost fell asleep during our last
fight...."
"How dare you take this so nonchalantly!" Mousse yelled.
He fired off a volley of chained weapons, which Ranma easily
avoided. "Never mind! You will never take me so lightly
again; tomorrow you will see a new Mousse! I've been training
and I am much, much better."
Ranma smirked. "Ain't that what you always say,
Mousse?"
***
Mousse sat down in the back of Wing Ho's shop. He slid
his goggles onto his forehead and wiped a dusty cloth across
his face.
From a nearby table arose a small cloud of gritty glass
dust. Wing Ho was busily grinding lenses as quickly as he
could. At another table, Nabiki tapped on a calculator and
impatiently brushed dust from the pages of her ledger.
"So, Wing said without looking up, "the challenge has
been accepted."
"Naturally," Nabiki replied. "Ranma has never met a
challenge that he could refuse. If Ameratsu herself were to
challenge him, the poor fool would not only accept, but would
actually believe that there was some way he could win."
Wing Ho frowned. "He must be a very confident fellow,
then," the glass grinder said.
"He is," Nabiki agreed. "Confident, persistent, and too
stupid to know when to quit."
"Ah, I see," Wing Ho said. "The sort that doesn't know
the meaning of the word 'lose' then?"
"Or a lot of other words," Nabiki said. "It takes a special
sort of stupidity to not realize when the odds are hopelessly
against you."
"Hey," Mousse said, "I'm every bit as stubborn and
persistent as Ranma!"
Nabiki gave the Chinese boy a long, slow, appraising
look.
"You'll get no argument from me," she said.
"Busy, busy, always grinding," Wing Ho said. "A glass
grinder's work is never done, you know. Especially when
business is so good! Going into business with your friend
Nabiki is turning out to be the best thing I've ever done!"
"My... friend?" Mousse asked. He glanced over at the
middle Tendo sister, who paused to smile sweetly at him.
"Well," he said, "she has been extremely helpful of late. With
both of you helping me, I can't help but win!"
Nabiki nodded, then stood.
"Well," she said, "I don't have a lot of time, and there's a
lot I need to do. First, I'll need to make flyers and get them
distributed. Next, I need to start taking bets in earnest. I also
need to talk to Ukyo and Cologne about renting space for their
food stands...."
"A booth!" Wing Ho shouted, standing up. "I'll need a
booth to sell my glasses from! When people see our live
demonstration, they'll want to buy right away...."
Nabiki grinned. "Don't worry, Wing Baby," she said, "I'm
way ahead of you...."
***
"Hey Ranma! Go get 'em tonight!"
It was another beautiful morning in Nerima, and kids were
streaming through the gates of Furinkan High School. Walking
with Akane, Ranma Saotome paused and stared at the boy
who'd hailed him. He scratched the back of his head.
"Uh... sure!" he said. "No problem!"
"All my money's on you, Ranma!" a female student called
out. "You never lose!"
"Heh, thanks," Ranma called back.
"Don't let us down, Ranma!" A third student yelled.
"We're all counting on you!"
"Betting on you, he means!" the first said.
Ranma forced a laugh and waved to the students milling
in front of the school. "Don't worry about me!" he yelled.
Then he grabbed Akane by the arm and pulled her through the
crowd and up to the school doors.
"How do they know already?" he whispered fiercely.
As if in answer, a paper leaflet drifted down out of the
sky. Ranma snagged it mid-flight, then stared at it for several
moments, his eyes growing wide, then narrowing in anger. He
crumpled the leaflet and tossed it over his shoulder.
"Nabiki!" he growled. "I should have known! Why does
every fight I have turn into an opportunity for her to make
money?"
Akane rolled her eyes. "Why does every encounter with
you and Mousse have to be a fight?" she retorted.
"Hey! It's never my idea!"
"Right, Ranma," Akane said. "You fight, Nabiki makes
money off of the fight. That's just how things are. I learned a
long time ago that there's nothing I can do to stop either of
you."
"Well, whatever," Ranma said, turning to head to class.
"It's not like this fight's gonna last more than two minutes
anyway. I mean, this is Mousse we're talking about."
"Ranma," Akane said, "I don't think you should take this
fight so nonchalantly...."
"You should listen to Akane," a familiar voice said.
Ranma turned. Leaning against the wall casually was the one
person who could be considered his true rival -- at least, the
person he fought with most often and most fiercely.
(Happosai, being his theoretical master, didn't count.)
"Ryoga!" Ranma exclaimed, his face lighting up. "How's
it going?"
It should be noted that, for reasons that weren't entirely
clear, Ranma thought of Ryoga less as a rival and more as his
best friend whom he frequently beat up. The feeling was not
quite mutual, since Ryoga really didn't count anyone as a
friend, but there was something to their relationship as rivals.
In any case, Ryoga could show concern for his rival if only
because he did not want anyone to defeat Ranma before he
himself had managed it.
"I came here to warn you, Ranma," Ryoga said.
"Warn me?" Ranma replied. "About Mousse?"
"Yes," Ryoga said, "about Mousse."
"Tall kid, white robes, long black hair, likes to kidnap
stuffed pigs and confess his love to lamp posts? As one of his
best attacks, he uses a potty trainer?"
Ryoga frowned.
"Just listen to me for once, Ranma," he said. "Mousse has
been training very hard for this. He's much better than he used
to be. You can't afford to not take this fight seriously."
"Yeah, whatever," Ranma said, turning again to head to
class.
"I'm serious, Ranma!" Ryoga yelled.
"Ryoga," Ranma called out over his shoulder, "the day I
can't beat Mousse is the day I renounce my own manhood."
***
The serving tray shot across the Nekohanten like a stealth
bomber, flying swiftly and unerringly towards its target, which
just happened to be a very myopic Chinese Amazon teenager
with a flair for hidden weapons. This was nothing new. The
boy was leaning on his mop, staring into space with the goofy
expression of the lovesick on his face, and this too was nothing
new. However, seconds before the tray careened off of his
head, the boy ducked.
This was something new.
Casually the boy snatched the tray from the air and flung
it back at the shriveled mummy at the counter.
"Mousse!" Cologne, the mummy in question, yelled. "Get
back to...."
Cologne leapt straight up as the tray shot under her.
Landing back on the counter, she paused and blinked in
confusion.
"I'm working, I'm working!" Mousse yelled back. To
prove the point, he began mopping the floor furiously.
Cologne frowned. She never failed to miss even subtle
changes in those around her, and this change was far from
subtle. She raised an eyebrow, then experimentally flung a
dozen deadly throwing knives at her unpaid busboy.
Without even glancing up, Mousse spun his mop about like a
balsa wood bo stick. When the mop ceased spinning, all
twelve knives were buried along the length of the handle.
Mousse glanced at them with the same casual interest that
he gave a tough floor stain. He banged the handle against the
wall, and the daggers fell to the floor.
He resumed mopping. The slightest hint of a smile at the
corner of his mouth was all that betrayed his apparent
indifference to the world around him.
Cologne raised her eyebrow again.
Without warning, a hail of deadly weapons and kitchen
equipment sailed across the room. Unable to feign lack of
interest, Mousse met the barrage head-on, spinning and
dodging and knocking things out of the air with his mop. Then
weapons of his own shot from his sleeves and sailed across the
dining room.
Most diners would think it healthier to eat off a clean
table, as opposed to the floor. The diners at the Nekohanten
would beg to differ. As implements of destruction sailed in
every direction, the regulars continued their meals beneath the
tables. When they said the Nekohanten served "food to die
for", it was not really a figure of speech.
The brief but intense battle came to a halt, and for once,
Mousse looked no worse for the wear. Cologne looked the boy
up and down, appearing at least somewhat impressed.
"You've improved, Mousse," the Amazon matriarch said.
"I've been practicing," Mousse replied.
The old woman's eyes narrowed. "That may be," she said,
"but those glasses... exactly where did you get them?"
Mousse simply smiled.
"That's for me to know, old ghoul," he said, "and for you
to...."
"They're none other than Wing Ho's Amazing Perfect
Vision Glasses!" a voice exclaimed. Mousse stumbled
backwards, as the eye doctor Wing Ho materialized in front of
him. "Come visit me!" he exclaimed eagerly. "Perfect vision
is just an appointment away! And the first pair is 30% off!
How can you refuse?"
The eager salesman shoved a pamphlet at Cologne. She
inspected it for a moment.
"Oh, ho," she said, eyes widening in comprehension.
"Then you've mastered the art of perfect lens grinding, I
assume?"
Wing Ho bowed low. "I, and I alone," he said with pride.
"Very impressive," Cologne said thoughtfully. "With the
aid of your glasses, Mousse might yet prove a real test for Son-
In-Law."
***
Time passed swiftly and soon the sun hung low in the
Western sky. It was evening, and the fight was less than an
hour away. As a crowd gathered on the hillside behind the
school and Wing Ho, Ukyo, and Cologne finished setting up
their respective booths, Nabiki tried to give her current protege
some last-minute advice.
"Remember what I told you," Nabiki said. "Remain cool
at all times. Don't get emotional, and don't lose control of
yourself, because then you lose control of everything else. If
you can stay calm and clear-headed, that's half of the battle
right there."
Mousse nodded his head. "Got it," he said."
"Next," she said, "Ranma's greatest strength is his
flexibility. New attacks always confuse him at first -- he's not
exactly a candidate for Mensa, you know -- but adaptive
combat is his specialty. Eventually, he'll find a way to deal
with your attack, so the trick is, when you unveil your new
attack, take him out. Don't give him time to think about it."
"You mean he'll see though my new attack?" Mousse
asked in a worried voice.
"If you give him time to think, then yes," Nabiki said.
"Ranma just about never loses. You know that. The best
strategy is probably to wear him down, then try to finish him
with your new attack. Do not fail to bring him down with it."
Mousse nodded. "Okay," he said. "Finish him with my
new attack. Got it."
"Last," Nabiki said, "remember his rising dragon blast, the
Hiryu Shoten Ha. He'll try to anger you and draw you in.
You've seen it before. Just remain calm, and refuse to be
sucked in."
Mousse nodded again. Nervously he glanced at Shampoo,
working in the Nekohanten booth nearby, then looked into
Nabiki's eyes.
"Do you really think I can win?" he asked, adjusting his
glasses.
"I know you can," Nabiki said confidently. "Just
remember my advice, and it will all fall into place."
As Nabiki watched Mousse step out onto the field and
begin his pre-fight katas, Wing Ho wandered over.
"Nabiki," he said, "I have been listening to the crowd.
They all think Ranma will win!"
Nabiki nodded. "Of course," she said. "He always has,
up till now."
Wing Ho's face looked perplexed. "Is this Ranma really
that good? Better even than Mousse?"
"He's just about the best I've ever seen," Nabiki replied.
"Yet you are certain that Mousse can win?"
Nabiki shrugged.
"With your goggles, and my support, he's got as good a
shot as he's ever had," she said. "Still, there's no accounting for
stupidity. If bad goes to worse, I'll give him some of my
patented invincibility pills, and hope that does the trick."
Wing Ho's eyebrows shot up.
"You have invincibility pills?"
***
Shampoo leaped into the Nekohanten food booth and
placed her hands on her hips.
"Great grandmother! Is no fair! Nabiki give him
invincibility pill!"
Cologne continued to watch over her noodles. There was
a blur of movement, and suddenly four bowls of ramen
appeared on the booth counter.
Sayuri laughed and clapped her hands, while her friends
Hiroshi, Daisuke, and Yuka grabbed their bowls. "Oh, you're
as amazingly fast as ever, Cologne-sama!" she exclaimed.
As the four customers left, Cologne fixed her eyes on her
great-granddaughter.
"Invincibility pill?" she asked.
"Is true! Shampoo overhear her say so!"
Cologne raised an eyebrow. Invincibility pill? My, but
the middle Tendo daughter was clever.
"Shampoo," she said, "there's no such thing as an
invincibility pill. And if there was, I doubt Nabiki Tendo
would have access to it."
"But why...?" Shampoo began, but a look from Cologne
silenced her.
"Think about it, Shampoo," the old woman said. "What
happens if Mousse believes he's swallowed an invincibility
pill?"
Shampoo's eyes went wide. "Is... is only trick to fool
Mousse?" Her eyes narrowed. "Then is two can play that
game," she declared.
***
The crowd grew quiet as the two martial artists took up
their positions. A stiff breeze blew the grass about and tugged
at the loose clothing both boys wore. Mousse adjusted his
goggles out of habit, then stabbed the air with his finger.
"Ranma Saotome, this is our last fight ever!" he exclaimed
at the top of his voice. "When the sun sets today, you will be
defeated, and Shampoo will be mine!"
"Stupid Mousse!" Shampoo called from the Nekohanten
food stand. "Shampoo never be yours!"
"Whatever," Ranma said, standing casually and feigning
disinterest in the whole affair. "Let's just get this over with,
okay?"
Mousse nodded, and attacked.
Chained and bladed weapons of every sort imaginable flew
through the air at Ranma, who dodged and wove and avoided
every attack, while expending as little energy as possible. This
was a classic Ranma strategy -- letting his opponent attack
first, and remaining calm and collected while his opponent
spent all of his energy and grew more angry and out of control.
So far, the fight was exactly like the five they'd fought before
it.
Or was it? Mousse was putting up a good show, but
something was subtly different this time. The four-eyed
Chinese boy was not yelling threats or invectives or cursing
Ranma's name or, really, wasting any more energy than he
needed to keep Ranma on the defensive. His full-out attack
was not a full-out attack, after all; it was merely meant to look
like one.
Ranma frowned. He assumed that Nabiki had been
helping Mousse train, but he had also assumed that Nabiki had
nothing to teach. That was a mistake, Ranma now realized, for
if Nabiki knew anything at all, it was how to remain cool and
emotionally uninvolved. Those were the hallmarks of any
great fighter -- the ability to not lose your head in battle, to stay
objective and keep your emotions under control, to remain
centered and clear of thought and to harness as much of your
chi as possible so that every ounce of your being was
concentrating on the task at hand. It was one of the things that
separated Ranma from most of his competition. Nabiki wasn't
a martial artist, so he'd never really thought of it before, but she
might be even better at focusing her whole being on a single
task than Ranma himself. She could have made an excellent
martial artist herself, he thought in surprise.
And if she'd taught Mousse even half of that ability to
keep his cool -- well, this fight might be interesting after all.
Ranma smirked at his opponent, and unleashed his own
round of attacks.
***
After his opening offensive, Mousse had Ranma's
undivided attention. The pig-tailed boy came at him like a
hurricane, with a long series of punches and kicks which were,
true to form, a seemingly natural progression, one move
flowing into the next, and yet no pattern ever emerged. Even at
this early stage in the fight, Mousse was hard-pressed to block
or avoid every blow, or to return blows of his own. Close
combat was not really the amazon boy's strength, so he
continued to leap backwards, giving himself enough room to
launch hidden weapons at Ranma, before his opponent closed
the distance again.
Several minutes into the fight, Ranma unveiled his
favorite attack. Screaming "Kachuu Tenshin Amaguriken!"
he flew at Mousse like a guided missile. Mousse did the only
thing he could do: fall back, and pray he could survive the
attack.
He could almost see them coming. Ranma's punches were
so fast and furious that no eye could actually track them, but
Mousse was used to dodging attacks that he could not quite
see. With the phenomenal vision that the goggles gave him, he
was actually able to sense the fists coming at him at blinding
speed. His training kicked in, and his hands moved to block
instinctively.
Several punches slipped through, but Mousse was able to
block a great number of them, which was a huge improvement.
Mousse was still getting hit hard, but he shrugged it off, and
even managed to slip in a return punch or two. He sensed that
he really was on an equal footing with Ranma now, or as
nearly equal as he could get. This was going to be a long fight,
he realized, and it would take every ounce of his endurance and
concentration, but if he played his cards just right, he could
win.
Ranma's eyes went wide when his all-out assault failed to
drop his opponent. Mousse managed a laugh, hiding the fact
that he was in considerable pain at the moment. Ranma
growled, and with another scream of "Tenshin Amaguriken!"
rained more blows down on Mousse.
Mousse was getting pounded, and he really didn't have the
endurance to stand up to the attack. No one did, really, except
perhaps for that masochist Ryoga. He struggled to block as
many punches as he possibly could, and to ignore the blinding
pain that shot through him each time a punch slipped through
his defenses, but he knew he had to end this, and fast.
***
Wing Ho watched Mousse and Ranma fight. At the first
flurry of punches, his jaw dropped. His mouth remained open
for several minutes.
He'd seen Mousse fight only two or three times, and had
been amazed. But this... he'd been so busy grinding lenses
lately, that he hadn't quite realized how good Mousse had
actually become.
Ranma's fists flew so fast that the eye couldn't track them.
What seemed to be one punch was, on reflection, ten, or
possibly even a hundred. He really was as good as they'd
said... much better than Mousse had so far demonstrated
himself to be. Ranma attacked his opponent like a tiger
springing at a wounded gazelle... lightning-quick, supremely
confident in his abilities and superiority.
And yet, somehow, Mousse was blocking nearly every
punch. His markedly improved vision, and his recent training,
seemed to make him Ranma's equal.
Wing Ho finally closed his mouth, but continued to watch,
spellbound. In an awe-struck voice, he whispered to himself,
"They're like gods...."
***
Ranma was beginning to sweat. He pulled back,
breathing hard, amazed that his opponent was still standing.
He'd hoped to overpower Mousse with a good round of
Tenshin Amaguriken -- Chestnut Fist -- but somehow, Mousse
blocked nearly every punch. That was something only
Happosai or Cologne really knew how to do -- and only
because they knew the technique. Mousse was very fast
himself, but had never demonstrated the ability to reach the
blinding speeds of the Tenshin Amaguriken. So how was he
blocking Ranma's best moves?
This was going to be a long fight, much longer than he'd
planned, and he had stupidly used much of his energy on two
straight Tenshin Amaguriken attacks. Now he was low on
energy, and Mousse, while clearly hurt, had yet to fall. As
Ranma recalled, the amazon-boy could take an amazing
beating and still come back for more -- he wasn't quite the
freak of nature that Ryoga was, but he was no ordinary
opponent. Ranma had one good round of Tenshin Amaguriken
punches left in him, but if he expended that energy and failed
to drop Mousse, he could actually lose the fight.
That was not going to happen, Ranma vowed.
While Ranma considered his options, Mousse managed to
stand up straight. A slow grin spread across the goggle-
wearing boy's face, and he drew himself up into a battle-ready
stance. Then, with a scream of "Bakusai Tenketsu!", he
launched a spiked ball on a chain at Ranma.
Ranma blinked. Bakusai Tenketsu? Blasting Point? That
was Ryoga's special attack, learned from Cologne, but it
involved stabbing the ground or a nearby object (rock, wall,
etc.) with your finger. It didn't involve thrown weapons....
The spiked ball hit the ground at Ranma's feet. Ranma
didn't even move, and for a brief moment began to smirk,
thinking that Mousse was too far gone to even aim correctly.
And then, the ground erupted beneath his feet. As if he'd
stepped on a land mine, rocks and debris shot up, pummeling
him and tossing him into the air. Caught off guard, Ranma
almost lost consciousness almost failed to right himself, almost
failed to land back on his feet.
Mousse did not let up. A second chained weapon flew at
Ranma, landing at his feet. This time he managed to leap up,
avoiding part of the blast, but still getting hit hard.
Ranma anticipated the third attack better. He leaped into
the air, fired off his patented "Moko Takabisha" chi blast, and
launched himself straight at Mousse, cursing himself forever
stepping out of punching range. Mousse was a weapons
specialist, while Ranma fought mostly unarmed. Even in the
past, Ranma could get into trouble by giving Mousse room to
operate -- but now, in a fight this close, such a mistake could
prove fatal.
Mousse only partially avoided the chi blast. Then, Ranma
was on him, attacking furiously with everything he had short of
the Chestnut Fist. He was feeling drained and weak, and had to
end this battle now. There was no way, he swore, no way that
he would ever lose a battle to Mousse.
***
Mousse could sense victory within his grasp. Ranma's
attacks were weak and desperate. Mousse was near the end of
his endurance as well, but for the love of beautiful Shampoo he
would walk on water. An image of her floated before him, and
he ground his teeth together, summoned his remaining energy,
and launched his own attack.
He went with the claws -- weapons that gave him an edge
in close hand-to-hand battle. Admittedly, going toe to toe with
Ranma was usually a suicide move, but Mousse could see that
the pigtailed boy was nearly finished. Joy surged through
Mousse as Ranma fell back under a torrent of slashing attacks.
The end was in sight, and for once, it was Ranma who was
about to crumple into the dirt. Mousse intensified his attacks,
driving Ranma before him, elation swelling within him, trying
to land the finishing blow....
Something was wrong. Mousse had dreamed of being in
this situation hundreds of times, but now that he was here, it
didn't quite feel right. It was too easy -- defeating Ranma
could never be this easy. But Ranma looked ready to fall --
what else could he have planned? Mousse had absorbed every
trick in Ranma's arsenal.
Every trick but one, he realized. Ranma still had the
Hiryu Shoten Ha up his sleeve.
Mousse broke off his attack. He stepped back and,
concentrating managed to recapture the calm that he'd started
the fight with.
"What's the matter?" Ranma growled. "Attack me!"
"I think not," Mousse replied calmly. "I've seen that
footwork before. You aren't going to lure me into defeating
myself... but perhaps you would like to try me?"
On the sidelines, Nabiki clenched her fists. "Yes! He's
using his head for once! We can win this!"
Ranma glared at Mousse for a moment, his expression
unreadable. Mousse smirked. Never had he fared so well in a
fight with Saotome, and he still had just enough energy to
finish the battle. Victory would be his!
"All right!" Ranma yelled. "I didn't want to resort to this,
but you leave me no choice! Saotome Secret Technique!"
Nabiki's jaw dropped open.
"No!" she yelled. "Stop him!"
Mousse dropped into a defensive posture. "Okay,
Saotome," he said. "Do your worst. This time, I'm ready for
anything!"
Ranma leapt up, spun about, and hit the ground running.
Mousse blinked. He waited for Ranma to turn, to launch
his most devastating attack. Instead, the pig-tailed boy
disappeared into the distance. The entire field grew so quiet
that you could hear the wind as it blew across the grass.
"That's the 'Saotome Secret Technique'?" Mousse finally
exclaimed.
From the sidelines, Ryoga said, "You have to remember,
his father taught him nearly everything he knows."
"Great," Nabiki said. "Now he's going to actually think.
We're doomed."
Nausicaa@sprynet.com Belldandy@angelic.com
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