The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the
creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko
Takahashi. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi and her
licensees (Shogakukan Inc., Kitty-Fuji TV, Viz
Communications Inc.) No copyright infringement is
intended.
Many thanks to:
D-chan, for encouragement and invaluable time taken from
her own writing to pre-read for me.
Read D-chan's stories at:
http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/
Please sign the guest book and let her know what you think
of the page and her artwork as well. ^_O
And to Jiro Maeda for pre-reading and pointing out some
fundamental errors in my conception of Filipino fighting arts
among other things.
You may read his stories at:
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/jiro-maeda/index.html
ALSO:
Don Granberry, for continuing to wade through my
sometimes incomprehensible prose.
Garry Kleppe, Prince of the Punctuation Pixies,
and Grandee of the Grammar Gnomes for
taking still more time with my stories.
And T.H. Tiger, for enjoying my story, and coming up with
some nifty ideas I wish I'd thought of. Perhaps in my next
story. *_O
WARNING: Chapter 21 contains suggestive
situations that some readers may find offensive.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Lure the Tiger from the Mountains
************************************************
************************************************
Chapter: 19
Shun shou qian yang
(Take the opportunity to pilfer a goat)
"What part of _watch_ _only_, was not clear to you?"
"I thought I could get in . . . and search the house. No
one was supposed to be home."
"Don't try to think, you're not equipped for it." Cool
fingers gently probed a massive bruise. "Next time, try finding
more reliable minions. Or at least lackeys who are slower
runners than you are."
A pitiful moan was the only answer.
"Drink this." the proffered glass was accepted by a
pallid and shaking hand, the contents downed quickly.
"Tastes . . .awful! What . . . is it?"
"You don't want to know," a brief examination
showed the patients gums and nail-beds were pale. "you're
bleeding inside. Why weren't you wearing your armor?"
"I . . .was."
"Ahhhh," clever fingers examined a battered breast-
plate that was cracked down the center. "Breaking-Point
Technique? Then the wild horse _was_ there."
"No . . . youngest daughter . . . weeping-man. Used
. . .Dragon's Breath . . .cover . . . escape."
"Imbecile. Bad enough to frighten the elder daughter,
you must also injure the youngest? We need allies, not
enemies."
"Panicked. Thought she . . .kill me."
"If the bleeding doesn't stop, she may yet succeed."
Another check of gums and nail-bed. "If it hasn't stopped in
another quarter-hour, we go to the embassy. I don't have the
resources here, to help you."
"Elders . . . will not . . . be pleased."
"The elders," pillows were fluffed to make the patient
more comfortable. " won't have to tell your mother that they
let her baby boy bleed to death in the land of Wa."
"Failed . . .you." Bitter self-loathing filled the voice.
"Better . . .I die . . . roll me into . . . ditch . . . eaten by dogs."
"What do you have against dogs?" A check of pulse
and meridians proved less than reassuring. "I'm calling the
embassy. They'll send a car for us." The patient was
frighteningly pale, covered in a cold sweat.
"I will die . . .wipe out . . . my shame."
"You are not an idiot Japanese to do such a thing," A
slender hand cuffed the patient lightly on the head. "Besides, I
have not give you permission to die. I order you to get strong
and healthy so that I may beat you properly, as you deserve,
for being such an idiot."
*****
*****
"I'm not a baby. I can stay home by myself."
After two days in the Hospital, Akane had only been
back home a few hours, but to Nabiki it felt like a few
months.
"Don't be silly," Nabiki was rapidly losing patience.
"You can't even go to the bathroom by yourself. You can't
possibly stay at home alone."
"I'll stay with her."
Nabiki snapped around at the unexpected interruption
to see Ranko peeking around the door. "Thank you for your
offer," she said coolly, "but I can take care of _my_ sister."
She stressed the possessive pronoun, trying to put some
distance between this relative stranger and her sister.
"I don't need either of you," the heavily bandaged
figure in the middle of Akane's bed snapped. She might have
been more believable if her arms and upper chest hadn't been
encased in heavy bandages. Another, lighter set, wound
around her eyes. Here and there, exposed patches of skin
were marred by angry red blotches of inflamed tissue. "so just
go on to school."
"How many fingers am I holding up?" Ranko asked
mildly.
Akane stiffened, but she didn't say anything.
"We don't need your help." Nabiki began, starting to
get angry.
Ranko flopped down on the bed, beside Akane,
watching as Nabiki's colour deepened to a rich puce.
"Get - -away - - from - - my - - sister!"
"What's going on?" Akane twisted blindly, from one
voice to the other.
"You're sister doesn't trust me," Ranko grinned at
Nabiki, "she think's I have designs on your virtue."
Nabiki seemed to swell to twice her normal size and
Ranko wondered if a person could really explode from anger.
"Huh?" Akane sounded bewildered.
"She's afraid that if she leaves me alone with you, the
site of all this exposed flesh," Ranko's finger traced the air
over a particularly irritated splotch, red, scaly with some burst
pustules leaking clear fluid. "and seductive lingerie, Ranko
rubbed a fold of Akane's comfortable, but old and ratty
sweats between two fingers, "will drive me mad with lust."
Ranko's look of wide eyed innocence forced a
surprised bark of laughter from Nabiki.
"What are you talking about?" Akane was getting
irritated.
"Nothing," Nabiki said quickly. "Ranko and I need to
discuss a few things."
"What things?"
"Getting you your homework, for one." Nabiki
grabbed Ranko by the hand. "C'mon. We can talk downstairs
while I get Akane's breakfast ready."
"I can fix my own breakfast!"
"Oh, be quiet and let Nabiki-san fix your damn
breakfast!" Ranko snapped, pulling out of Nabiki's grip.
"maybe a nice bowl of ground glass and barbed-wire will keep
you from whining."
"I am _not_ whining." Akane retorted, but she settled
back against her pillows.
"Back in a minute," Ranko turned and walked out the
door, leaving Nabiki scurrying to catch up.
"What are you _doing_?" Nabiki hissed, discovering
Ranko in the kitchen lighting a burner on the stove.
"Fixing breakfast," she set a pot of water to boiling.
"Where do you keep the - -" opening the refrigerator Ranko
started rooting around inside. " - - never mind.".
"Akane doesn't like nori for breakfast,"Nabiki said
smugly, as Ranko emerged with a box of kelp.
"Good flavor on the miso," Ranko dipped a finger into
a clay bowl she'd grabbed along with the nori. "You make it
yourself?" She smiled at Nabiki's bemused nod. "Get the best
flavor that way."
Nabiki shook off her stupor and took an angry step
toward the little redhead. "Look," she tried to use her
superior height to intimidate the other girl. "you can't just
waltz in here and take over . Why do _you_ want to take care
of Akane, anyway?"
"There's a practice exam today," Ranko grinned, "but
if I'm taking care of a sick friend, I don't have to take it."
"Is that the only reason?" Nabiki asked, somewhat
mollified by the fact she'd used the same excuse herself to get
out of tests.
A fact Ranko knew from 'girl talk' shared with
Akane.
Rule fourteen;*Never tell a lie, boy* Genma beat into
Ranma with a willow switch. *You'll get caught. Always - -*
"You've found me out," Ranko started a salmon steak
grilling, checking on the rice at the same time. "This is all a
plot, so that I can steal this," she waved an expansive hand,
"magnificent castle and all your land and wealth."she pulled
pickles, spinach and eggs from the refrigerator. "And it all
started the day Ranma arrived." She flipped the salmon on the
grill and seasoned it lightly. "and ended with those guys the
other day." Checking the rice she found it nice and sticky.
Putting it in a bowl, she cracked a raw egg over it and added
spinach and some pickle.
"Everything that I've done - - " Ranko started
arranging things on a tray, making minor adjustments so there
was a balance of colour and texture.
Rule fourteen: *Always tell the _truth_*
" - - has been a big lie."
Rule fourteen: *the truth that helps you most.*
"She won't eat any of that." Nabiki followed Ranko
up the stairs, trying not to be aggravated at Ranko's sarcasm,
yet oddly reassured, because a really bad person wouldn't be
so flippant.
"Won't eat what?" Akane said surlily from where she
lay propped in bed. "I don't want it," she barked, catching the
scents from the tray in Ranko's hands. "I'm not hungry."
"Did I ask for your opinion," Ranko plopped down
beside Akane on the bed. "Open up," she grabbed some rice
and nori with chopsticks.
"I don't want it," Akane repeated and Nabiki smiled in
triumph.
"Tough!" Ranko snapped. "Taking care of you is my
ticket out of a practice test. So you're going to eat this if I
have to suff it in your ear."
Nabiki felt her face go slack as Akane obediently
opened her mouth and allowed Ranko to feed her a bite.
"Yuck! I hate nori for breakfast."
"Well, I like it," Ranko countered, "And since I'm
cooking, you eat what I like. Now, shut up and chew so I can
go eat my own breakfast." She grabbed a bit of salmon and
held it in front of Akane's mouth. "Open," the salmon went
in. "Chew. Big hulking brute like you - - Open . . . Chew - -
I'm probably going to starve to death."
In remarkably short order the bowls were cleaned,
Ranko wiped Akane's mouth with rough gentleness and
gathered up the tray. "I'll be back later. Try to stay out of
trouble."
"How the . . .how did you do that?" Nabiki asked in
the kitchen as they shared cleaning duty. "It took Kasumi and
me an hour to get her to take a single bite last night, and then
she threw the tray at us!"
"Akane likes hot peppers." Ranko replied, rinsing a
bowl and putting it on the drying rack.
"There weren't any peppers in this." Nabiki replied,
puzzled.
"Nope." Ranko finished the last bowl and turned to
Nabiki drying her hands. "So, do I have to take my practice
test, or not?"
Nabiki looked at the clock, dithering for the first time
in a long while. "If you can get her to eat nori for breakfast, I
guess you'd better stay." She grabbed her book bag and
headed for the door. "Call me or Kasumi if there's any
problem. The numbers are on the message board."
Ranko grinned at Nabiki's retreating back. Rule
Twenty-five: *Never sneak through the back door, when you
can get someone to let you in the front door.*
*****
*****
"I really hate to ask you to do this," Kasumi fretted as
Ranko helped her on with her coat, three days later "But
Nabiki is at cram school and my chemistry professor wants to
talk to me about my mid-term project."
"No problem." Ranko assured her, handing Kasumi
her briefcase.
"I wish you'd let me pay - - "
"We've had this talk before," Ranko interrupted,
wrinkling her nose in the disarmingly-adorable way she'd
perfected in front of a mirror over the last several weeks.
"you're letting me stay here while my father is gone. So the
least I can do is help out."
"If you're sure?"
"GO!" Laughingly Ranko pushed Kasumi out the door
and locked it behind her. As soon as the lock clicked in place
her open laughing countenance disappeared like water down
the drain, leaving a more calculating expression in it's place.
Things were going even better than Ranma dared
hope. Ranko had access to a mostly female household that
Ranma could never have hoped for. Kasumi trusted Ranko
completely, Nabiki was coming around and Akane . . . Ranko
re-entered the family room and quietly watched her sitting and
listening to the newly replaced TV.
Blind and almost helpless Akane was slowly, almost
imperceptibly, coming under Ranko's control. It was exactly
like Pop had taught him you trained a hawk or other wild
animal, she thought, moving to stand behind Akane.
*Blindfold him,* Ranko recalled Genma saying, while
she examined the bandages wound around Akane's head *and
the meanest junkyard dog will become docile and
submissive.* Ranko lay a caressing hand along Akane's
cheek.
"KiiiiiiYAAAAA!"
The reverse-knuckle strike hit Ranko in the temple
like a pile-driver, knocking her across the room.
"owieeee." she whimpered, sliding down the wall.
"Ranko?" Akane began to blindly crawl along the
floor." Ranko, is that you?"
"I like okonomoyaki best of all, Pop." Ranko
muttered.
"What?" Akane followed the sound, feeling around
until she found a warm lump on the floor. "Ranko, are you
Okay?"
"Uhhhhh . . ." Ranko groaned, feeling as if the Red
Army Band were folk dancing behind her eyeballs.
"You shouldn't sneak up on a martial artist like that."
Akane chided, scooping Ranko awkwardly into her bandaged
arms. She stood, pausing to think about what to do next.
"Bathroom," Ranko whispered, wincing from the pain
the effort caused.
"Wouldn't you like some ice from the kitchen?"
"Bathroom," Ranko repeated. "Throw up first. Then
bath."
"You navigate," Akane said, turning in the general
direction of the bathroom. "I don't think you should be
exerting yourself with a bath, though."
"Not me, you." Ranko said faintly, wrinkling her nose
at the smell, instantly regretting the move as it felt as if her
face was going to fall off. "You stink."
"You need to learn to be more careful around Martial
Artists. If I hadn't pulled my blow," Akane slowly shuffled
toward the bathroom under Ranko's direction. " you could
have gotten hurt."
*Dammit Pop,* Ranko thought, laying limply in
Akane's arms. *What th' hell happened to your sure-fire,
never-fail, lost for centuries secret Tame-the-Wild-Badger-
New-Bride technique?*
*Heh - -sorry, boy,* she could hear Genma as clearly
as if he were in the same room. *I guess I should have read
the entire scroll.*
*****
*****
"I feel a lot better," Akane said from the side of the
furro, "you ought to soak for a while too. You'll feel like a
new woman."
*I'd feel like a new something.* Ranko suppressed a
manic giggle at the thought. "That's okay, I'll soak later."
Even with Akane's eyes still bandaged, Ranma was still
nervous around all this hot water. Ever since he'd fallen into
the cursed pool, he sometimes felt as if water was alive.
"If you're sure." Akane sighed, sinking deeper into the
steaming depths of the furro.
"Watch those bandages," Ranko snapped, grabbing
for Akane's arm as it started to submerge.
Unfortunately, she missed and plunged her arm into
the steaming water past the elbow, triggering the change back
to male. "Gaaa!" Bug-eyed he stared at his now masculine
arm, then at Akane, convinced she could see clearly through
the thick bandage.
"A . . .are you alright?" Akane started to grope blindly
around the edge of the furro, "You sound strange."
Ranma shook off his paralysis as Akane's blind
groping just brushed his transformed arm and made a leap for
the washing stand. "I just - - " Ranma's baritone changed
abruptly "I thought I heard something," to soprano under a
spray of cold water. "I'll be right back."
Dashing out of the bath-room Ranko took a
shuddering breath, pressing a hand to her thundering heart.
That had been close - - her head snapped up as she heard a
noise from upstairs.
*What . . .?* She started for the stairs, just as a
pimply-faced boy in a baggy pinstriped suit stuck his head out
of the kitchen.
"Psssst . . .Kenji!" he whispered harshly, "have you
finished yet?"
*Ah, crap.* What are you little piss-ants doin' here?*
Ranko groaned.
"Get her!" A voice called. From _behind_ !
Ranko rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a
headache coming on, as two Seiki-Juka rushed her. Twisting
fractionally she lowered her hips, changing her center of
gravity, and the two young thugs stumbled and fell.
*I need a cup of coffee.*
Suiting thought to deed she changed direction toward
the kitchen. "Scuse me," Ranko nodded politely to the pimply
boy and edged past him into the kitchen, where three more
boys were enthusiastically pulling apart the shelves and
tossing the contents on the floor.
*Ahhhh, geez. I _just_ cleaned in here!* Ranko bent
to pick up a broken bag of flour as the three lunged for her.
Their heads met with a sound like ripe melons and they
collapsed, groaning. *Now where . . .* she rummaged
through the debris, triumphantly producing a tin marked
'Coffee', then started looking for the pot.
"What th' hell is goin' on in - - "
"They heard us chief!" Pimply-faced stuttered.
"Akane can't see and this one's no fighter." The
'chief' assured him.
"We've got to get out of here!" Pimply-faced was in
a panic.
"Not 'till we finish."
Ranko glanced over her shoulder to see a chunky,
surly-faced boy in a suit that actually fit, berating Pimply-
faced. She turned on the tap and started filling the pot.
"Hey you!"
Startled by his sudden shout, Ranko spun around,
carelessly forgetting she held the heavy pot in her hand.
Chunky-boy dropped like a pole-axed cow as the steel pot,
full of water, met the side of his temple with a meaty thunk.
"Oops."
Carefully measuring out the coffee, she filled the now
slightly dented pot, set it on the stove and started to clean up
the mess. Ranko'd just found the broom, where it had been
thrown in a corner, when suddenly the kitchen was filled with
a horde of pinstripe-suited thug-wannabe's.
"What did you do to the chief?!" A wannabe yelled,
striking at Ranko with something that looked vaguely like a
Karate front-knuckle-fist. Ranko watched, mildly puzzled, as
the wannabe broke his hand on the bamboo broom she was
holding.
"Gotcha!" A heavy hand came down on Ranko's
shoulder, spinning her around. Unfortunately the end of her
broom slashed across the face of a boy coming up behind her.
"Are you alright?" Ranko turned toward the sound of
his scream, as the boy holding her somehow lost his grip.
Moving to help the boy who was holding his hands to his
face, Ranko shifted the broom out of the way, inadvertently
driving the bamboo shaft into the diaphragm of the boy who
had been holding her, whereupon he fell to the ground,
whooping for breath.
Moving the blinded boy toward a chair Ranko, quite
by accident, steered him in the way of two boys who were just
rushing into the kitchen and they all tumbled to the ground.
"I'm so sorry," Ranko apologized to a green faced
boy who'd broken her fall with his groin. "Are you alright?"
Pulling herself up by grabbing the edge of the table, she
inadvertently tipped the table and it's contents onto the
groaning tangle of bodies, who were abruptly quieted.
"Ranko!"
She looked longingly at the coffee which had just
started to perk.
"Ranko? Is everything alright?"
"Pardon me." Ranko edged past Pimply-face who was
frozen in the doorway. In the family room were four more
Seiki-Juka.
*Damn, just like cockroaches.*
"Ranko, what's going on. Who's there?" Akane
stood, bare as a newborn, dripping water on the floor, her
heavily bandaged head turning slowly back and forth.
Ranko watched a trickle of water run down the deep
cleft made by massive pectoral muscles and well formed, if
modest, breasts then divide and join several times as it wound
around the cobblestones of her belly toward - -
There was a tiny gasp from a boy standing to her right
and Akane turned heavily toward the sound, muscles in her
back flexing like corded steel as she brought her bandaged
arms up in a guard position.
"Who's there!" Akane's voice held a bark of challenge
and Ranko was mesmerized by the sight of muscles and
tendons writhing like giant steel cables as she settled into a
ready stance. "I'm starting to get mad." Akane took a step
forward, the hard hemispheres of her buttocks softening and
tightening as she moved, tiny diamonds of water glistening on
her skin.
Ranko shook off her paralysis as one of the boys
groaned, the sound cutting off abruptly as the redhead drove a
hard fist into his temple. "Pervert!"
That broke the spell, and the boy closest to Akane
leapt on her from behind, wrapping his arms around her neck
in a full-nelson.
"Don't move, or I'll break her - - "
Akane shrugged irritably. The movement tore the boy
lose from his hold and flung him across the room, where an
intervening wall introduced him to the concept of
conservation-of-angular-momentum, with a sound like a very
big bug hitting a windshield.
"Ranko, what's - - -owww!" She awkwardly raised a
bandaged hand to rub at her head. "That wasn't nice." Akane
complained mildly, while one of the Seiki-Juka stared blankly
at the splintered bamboo staff in his hand.
"Just some friends of Kunou," Ranko replied, kicking
the staff wielding idiot between the legs from behind, then
again in the side of the head as he fell.
"Senpai?" Akane sounded puzzled. "What do they
want?"
"I think they wanted to surprise you by cleaning up,"
the pimply-faced boy nodded vigorously, "and restocking the
kitchen," Pimply-faced was about to give himself whiplash.
He couldn't agree fast enough.
"C'mon" Ranko took Akane by the arm and lead her
toward the bathroom. " back in the furo before you get a
chill."
************************************************
Chapter: 20
Yi yi dai lao
(Relax while the enemy exhausts himself)
"I've got a surprise for you," Ranko said as Kasumi
unwound the bandages from Akane's eyes.
"Oh?" Blinking, even in the dim light of the doujou,
she looked around at her sisters, whom she hadn't seen in
over a week. "what kind of surprise?"
"Just wait right here," Ranko grinned, "I've got to run
some errands and take care of things at home," Ranko said,
trotting toward the main gate. "so I'll see you later."
The Tendou sisters watched her turn the corner as she
passed the gate.
"You took your time getting here." They heard Ranko
berate someone out of sight.
"Sorry," Ranma answered. "I lost track a' time. See ya
later."
"Where have you been?" Nabiki asked as the pig-
tailed martial artist trotted into the doujou.
"Oh dear, you're all wet." Kasumi exclaimed, reaching
for a towel.
"Yeah," Ranma accepted the towel with a brief word
of thanks and started rubbing his head vigorously. "Some ol'
lady was washin' down her sidewalk an' I got splashed." He
tossed the towel in the corner and turned to Akane, missing
Kasumi's slight moue of displeasure at his carelessness. "I've
been tryin' to track down that crazy monk," he answered
Nabiki. "and I didn't want him showin' up around here.
Haven't seen him for a while, so Ranko asked me to stop by if
I thought it was safe." He ruffled Nabiki's hair in passing,
which she enjoyed, much to her own annoyance, then stopped
in front of Akane, who was still heavily bandaged, long strips
of skin peeling from her face and chest as if she'd had a bad
sunburn.
"Boy, you look like crap!"
Nabiki and Kasumi both bristled at Ranma's derisive
tone, but Akane seemed to take it in stride.
"I got careless," She admitted. "I'd have been in real
trouble if that guy had counterattacked."
"Nah," Ranma circled her, making a close
examination. "Ranko tol' me all 'bout it. Stuff like 'Dragon's
Breath' is just as dangerous to the user. You only use it when
you're neck deep in shit an' there's a elephant with diarrhea
headed your way."
"Are you saying I'm fat?" Akane glared at Ranma
with mock fierceness.
Ranma looked at her blankly for a second, then
backpedaled as understanding dawned. "No, no. I didn' mean
nuthin like - - " he stopped abruptly as he saw the twinkle in
Akane's eyes. "Very funny. I mean that guy wouldn't a used
it if he hadn't been afraid of you. Anyway, I thought you
might like to work out a little."
"Really!" Akane's face lit up like a neon-sign. "That's
great!"
"I don't think - - " Kasumi began, doubtfully.
"Oh, please, 'neesama!" Akane turned pleading eyes
on her older sister. She slapped her stomach with a sound like
hitting an oak barrel. "I'm starting to get soft with all this
laying around."
"Why do want to work out with Akane now," Nabiki
asked suspiciously. "You think you can beat her now and that
will take care of the engagement?"
"Huh?" Ranma looked at Nabiki, genuinely puzzled
for an instant. "Oh, that." He waved his hands dismissively
as he suddenly understood. "Nah, this is just training. If I'm
gonna be a sensei someday I need to be able to teach."
"Why Akane, why now?" Nabiki persisted.
"Well," Ranma tilted his head to one side. "She's
bored enough that she might actually listen to me, an' she's
got a lot of bad habits to unlearn; so if I can teach her
somthin' I can teach anybody."
"HEY!" Akane stomped up to Ranma, fairly glowing
with anger. "What do you mean by that crack?! I'm a martial
artist. A good one and you can't - - "
"Hit me." Ranma said mildly. Akane looked at
her bandaged arms for an instant, then lashed out at Ranma's
midsection.
"Not full power," Ranma chided as he slid away from
the blow "You're liable to hurt yourself while you're still
healin'. Try again', but just tap me."
Akane's lips thinned, and she glared at Ranma in
aggravation, then relaxed.. "Just a tap." she agreed as her
bandaged fist shot out like a pile-driver, impacting Ranma's
chest with the force of a butterfly's kiss as she pulled it at the
last moment.
"Hold it," Ranma ordered, circling her statue-like
pose, examining her for faults. "Okay, take your stance
again."
Akane settled into her favored Mountain-Bear stance,
flinching slightly as Ranma began to reposition her feet.
"Not bad," he kept up a running commentary as he
moved her like a puppet, "but you're not gettin' full power,"
he slid her trailing foot back a fraction, "an' you're a little
over-extended at the end." Ranma regarded her forward foot,
altered the position a fraction, then resumed his place in front
of her.
"How's that feel."
"It feels funny," Akane complained. "like I'm going to
fall over."
"Good," Ranma nodded in satisfaction. "you were
too . . ." he searched for the right word, "stable, before."
"How can you be _too_ stable?" Nabiki wanted to
know.
"A statue is stable," Ranma answered, "but it can't
punch worth spit." He looked at Akane. "Now try again."
"Hey!" Akane looked startled as her fist impacted, as
lightly as before, but Ranma grunted slightly. "Hey, that's
amazing."
"Heh. Bein' strong ain't enough. I can show ya a
buncha other stuff, if you're interested."
*****
****
"O . . .Oh . . .kay," Akane panted, body drenched in
sweat. "I . . .give . . .up." She staggered over to the wall and
sank awkwardly to the ground.
"Se . . .ee. Sp . . .speed. Speed is . . .ev . . .
everything," Ranma sucked air in great gulps.
"I . . .I knew I was . . .slow," Akane wiped her face
with a towel Nabiki threw her, "but I never . . . knew how
slow."
"Ya . . .ya didn' . . .thanks," he smiled at Kasumi as
she handed him a cup of water, "didn' do too . . .bad." He
shrugged off the weighted vest he'd borrowed for speed
training Akane and it hit the ground with a clank.
Akane eyed the fifty-kilo garment and her face twisted
in a sour smile. "Not _too_ bad? If . . .if you had . . . hadn't
had . . .handicap . . ." She puffed for a moment, trying to get
her breath. No one had worn her out in a long time. "If you
hadn't been carrying that weight . . ." she spread her hands,
palm upwards with a shrug.
"You just need to retrain your muscles," Ranma
replied, recovering more quickly than his opponent. "your
bulk is slowin' you down. You need to work on your
technique, stop bein' so sloppy. And . . ." he jerked a thumb
at her brace.
Akane stared at him, eyes dull with disappointment.
"The knee is about shot. I guess I can improve my technique,
but . . .the rest?"
"Can be fixed," Ranma said with complete confidence.
"Technique just needs a lot of hard work. Retrain for speed,
and you'll still be strong. Stronger, 'cause the same punch will
hit faster." He sank down beside her, resting a calloused palm
on her knee. "An' I know a few tricks that will help this." He
grinned a cocky grin, and was rewarded by with a shy smile in
return.
*Piece o' cake,* he thought, smugly. "by th' time Pop
gets back, it'll be th' Saotome Doujou, an' we'll get enough
cash ta head back to China.* He stole a glance at the girl
sitting beside him, eyes closed, head resting against the
hardwood wall. Watching the pulse beat in the vulnerable
hollow of her throat he felt a brief and unaccustomed twinge
of pain as his long unused conscience stirred briefly.
Ranma soothed it with the sure knowledge that Akane
could never run a doujou. No one would take lessons from a
freakishly strong cripple, no matter how many prizes she won.
And her technique was rudimentary at best, and so sloppy that
he was really doing a service for her future students and the
art itself, by taking the doujou from her.
*Pop will be really proud,* he unknowingly voiced
the most important argument. *when he gets back and sees
what I've done. Pop will be proud of me.*
*****
*****
"You are Fukubashi Nodoka?" The melodious voice
cut through the babble of the restaurant.
A woman looked up from scrubbing the floor,
brushing back a strand of prematurely grey hair with the back
of her gloved hand.
"Former wife of Saotome Genma? Mother of Saotome
Ranma?" The questioner persisted, reaching to pull the
woman from the floor.
"G . . .Genma?" A look of hope, mixed with dread
from too many years of disappointment fluttered over her
face. "Ran-ma?"
"What's going on here?" Nabetoyo Saburo, owner
and manager of 'Autumn Flower ' restaurant bustled into the
back, flabby cheeks suffused with anger. "Get back to work!"
He snapped at his floor scrubber. "The honorable foreigner
would be more comfortable in another establishment,
perhaps." He suggested without even a pretense of apology.
Saburo only hoped none of his regular patrons had
seen this person enter. Chinese by the manner of dress, and
therefore marginally acceptable, but Saburo had made his
reputation by aggressively maintaining the purity of his
clientele and workers. Even his floor-scrubber, he sneered
slightly as she cringed away from him, was of the highest
bloodline, though fallen on hard times after her husband
deserted her, taking all of her money and leaving all of his
debts. She'd been forced to take the extreme measure of
divorce to escape liability for those debts.
"The honorable customer," a slender hand emerged
from long flowing sleeves, "wishes not to be disturbed by the
grunting of pigs," and gestured.
Four husky figures instantly appeared, grabbed
Saburo and hustled him out the back door. His angry squeals
of protest were beginning to carry into the front of the
restaurant when a tall, well-built man wearing dark glasses,
stepped from the shadows and flashed a gold badge in the
form of a stylized chrysanthemum blossom.
The Imperial Seal shut Saburo's mouth as if someone
had garrotted him and brief snatches of conversation from
Dark-Glasses could be heard as the door closed behind them .
. . "imbecile . . . diplo . . . immunity . . . every courtesy . . .
immun . . . prosecut . . . if . . . cut off your . . . "
"I have a car outside, Nodoka-sama. Perhaps we
could discuss your husband and son over tea?"
The prematurely aged woman flushed with pleasure at
being so kindly addressed and allowed herself to be lead to a
waiting Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, bearing diplomatic plates.
*****
*****
"Would you quit following me around?" Nabiki glared
at Ukyou, slouching along beside her, steroid-enhanced
spatula bobbing slightly in the sheath strapped across his back.
"Uhuh," he smothered a yawn with the back of his
hand, "I figure if I stick around you long enough, I'll run into
Ranma or Genma." He'd spent all night crouched on a
rooftop, watching the doujou in case either of them showed
up.
Nabiki wondered which kami she'd so offended in a
previous life that she would get stuck with this idiot in this
one. "Look, if I knew where Genma was, I'd gift wrap him
for you."
"And Ranma?"
"I'll throw him in for free." She flushed at Ukyou's
look and continued a little defensively. "Ranma's cute, but
he's not worth the trouble. You, that crazy guy in the monks
outfit, some guy in robes and a bunch of street people and
Kuno's bunch."
Ukyou looked amazed at the litany, since he was only
peripherally aware of some of these events.
Nabiki shook herself, like a dog coming out of the
water. "Akane could have been killed, Kasumi was hurt, our
house trashed and father . . .father's not feeling well." Or that
was as good an excuse as any, since no one had seen him in
days. "So, yeah, I'd give them both to you, or to the monk or
I'd just toss them in the recycling-bin. 'Cause they're not
worth the hassle."
"What happened to 'he's a guest' and 'a fight with
Saotome is a fight with Tendou'?" Ukyou mimicked.
"You have me confused with my sister," Nabiki
shifted her bag to her off hand, furthest away from Ukyou so
she could get a good swing if she decided to smack him,
"Akane's the one still living in the middle-ages."
"Yeah, I hear you're a very modern girl. Pachinko and
slot machines, a little book-making, some vending
machines - -" Ukyou looked thoughtful. "So, how much for
you to sell out the Saotomes?"
There was a pile of broken concrete lying next to the
drainage ditch and Nabiki wondered briefly how Ukyou
would look wearing one of the larger chunks.
"Here," she came out of her daydream to see him
holding out a jagged lump of concrete, a big grin on his face.
"What's that for?"
"You wanted to brain me with it, didn't you? No?" He
tossed the lump into the air. At it's apex there was a flash of
light and the stony material exploded in a cloud of dust.
Bemused, Nabiki watched him wipe the large paddle-bladed
pole arm with a square of silk, then re-sheath it on his back.
"You must be a riot at parties," Nabiki groused, mildly
impressed in spite of herself. "can you do card tricks?"
"Don't underestimate me, just because you got lucky,
once." The rounded the corner of a building, almost perfectly
in step, and saw the clock-tower of Furinkan High School in
the near distance. About fifty yards in front, Ranko and
Akane were slowly making their way toward the school gates.
"You look like hell," Ukyou broke away from Nabiki
and trotted up alongside the two, with Ranko on the far side,
nearest the fence that ran alongside the drainage canal, leaving
Akane sandwiched in the middle. "what happened?"
"None of your business," Nabiki smacked him on the
back of the head as she caught up with them. "What are you
doing out here?" she directed at her sister. "The doctor told
you not to come back to school for at least three more
weeks."
"I was getting bored, sitting around the house all day."
Akane peered at her sister through the sunglasses that had
replaced the bandages. "And I'm only going by to check on
the swimming club and grab some class notes so I can catch
up on what I've missed."
"Looks like the Tendou watch-bitch is toothless right
now," Ukyou ran a finger along the bandages that swaddled
Akane's left arm. "what would you do if you had to fight
someone?"
"I couldn't fight." Akane said simply.
"Oh?" Ukyou reached for his uber-spatula, intending
to tease the girl a bit, when Nabiki grabbed his arm, nearly
yanking it from the socket.
"Well, you two have fun," She called over her
shoulder. "Don't let her overdo it," she instructed Ranko,
"and make sure she takes her medicine."
"What was that for," Ukyou groused, rubbing his
shoulder.
"Don't you know anything? - - If I am strong, I beat
my enemies," she quoted, "if I am weak, I must kill them."
"What does that have to do with - - owwww!"
"Idiot!" Nabiki tried to shake some feeling back into
her hand.
"My head is _not_ a punching bag."
"Well, it's not good for much else. Look stupid,
Akane's pretty banged up. So she's not going to feel like she
has the latitude to take chances with you."
"Huh? But I was just teas - - "
"I know that, but she's still living in the feudal ages
and she sees herself as the loyal samurai retainer. If you'd laid
hand on that damn blade, she'd have broken your back in
there places, ripped your head off and mounted it for display."
"Oh, come on. No one would - - " his voice trailed off
at the deadly serious look in Nabiki's eyes. " - - would they?"
he finished weakly.
"Didn't you notice how she moved to keep herself
between you and Ranko? And how she dropped back, just
slightly, into your blind spot when I came up on your other
side?"
Ukyou shook his head, blankly and Nabiki resisted the
urge to smack him again. "How do you expect to beat Genma
and Ranma if you miss simple stuff like that? Akane could
see you move, and you'd lose time trying to find her, if you
attacked. That gave her a big advantage." Nabiki suddenly
thought of something that had been bothering her. "How
come you haven't been arrested for . . . that?" she jerked a
thumb at the uber-spatula.
"I have a permit to carry it."
Which meant he'd bribed someone, or knew someone,
or knew someone, who knew someone. Nabiki understood
how the game was played, she played a little herself.
"Well, aren't you the clever little boy," she was
pleased to see Ukyou flush at her tone, "now, here's a little
trick you might not have seen before."
Ukyou followed her pointing finger, to see a roasted
sweet-potato vendor, set-up just outside the gates to
Furinkan. Which was strange, since it wasn't the season yet
for roasted sweet-potatoes. He thought he saw a flash of
colour at the man's cuff and collar.
"Yakuza?" The tattoo's were an almost certain
giveaway, but he wanted to be sure. "What makes me believe
that the Yakuza would pay any attention to a school girl like
you?"
"They wouldn't," Nabiki answered candidly. "But his
grandmother," Nabiki explained, "went to school with my
grandmother . . .and his mother went to school with my
mother," Ukyou was beginning to look a trifle uneasy. "So,
you might want to avoid doing anything that would upset his
grandmother or mother." She smiled sweetly, as she left
Ukyou at the gates staring sourly at the sweet-potato vendor,
before he turned away from the school and vanished into the
crowded streets.
"Hi Nabiki!" Kimiko came running up, braids flying in
the wind. "Have you seen the roasted sweet-potato vender?"
She pointed at the heavyset man. "I've never seen one this
early in the year. I wonder who he is?"
"Never seen him before." Nabiki answered. "We'll
have to buy something from him at lunch, to make him feel
welcome."
The sweet-potato vendor watched Nabiki with cold
eyes until she was out of sight. Lifting his cap he scratched
vigorously where his wig was itching as he pondered his next
move.
*****
*****
"How was that?" Akane stepped back from the heavy
bag, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her
sleeve. "My high kicks have always been weaker than I would
like, but . . ." she slapped her knee brace lightly, then
shrugged.
"Ummmm . . ." Ranma, watching silently from the
sidelines while Akane went through her repitoir of attacks,
unfolded from the floor with cat-like grace. "Well . . .it's
kinda hard to say. Ya see, we've got different styles." He
moved to stand in front of the bag, automatically settling into
a relaxed Black-Tiger stance. "I like speed," his arms blurred
into action, hitting the tough canvas so quickly that it sounded
like a continuous dull rumble, until the seam burst open and
sand spilled onto the floor, "an' technique. You," he walked
back to Akane, who he noted was staring at the ruined bag
with gratifying admiration, "like brute-force an' meanness."
Akane tore her gaze from the hole in the bag and
looked at Ranma. "Hey, my technique's pretty good. I've
won - - " her voice trailed off under Ranma's steady gaze.
"Okay, what's wrong with my technique?"
"Some people," Ranma replied judiciously, "_say_
they want to hear the truth, but they really want someone to
tell them how good they are."
"I want the truth!" Akane snapped.
"A'right," Ranma ticked points off on the fingers of
his right hand, "you're overextending when you punch or
kick, ya got sloppy recovery." Akane's face tightened with
anger, but Ranma ignored the signs of an incipient storm.
"Ya're not reloadin' right, so your follow-up strikes are slow
and weak, cause you're off balance. You got no defense at
all - - "
"That's not true!" Akane stomped forward. "My
defense is plenty good."
"Yeah?" Ranma's look made her flush angrily. "Which
style teaches ya to block a punch with your face?"
"I get the job done," she muttered angrily, looking
everywhere but at him.
"I can show ya how to get th' job done faster an'
better."
"I don't need your fancy stuff." the muscles in her jaw
bunched. "I almost had you when we fought last time."
"Alright," Ranma shrugged, turning toward the door.
"why don't we see what's in the kitchen for dinner." He
stepped past her and slouched in the direction of the house.
"Wait." The single syllable was dragged out of her,
like a barbed-wire breach-birth.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe . . .maybe I do have a few problems. Would
you," Akane struggled to get the words past the noose that
was suddenly strangling her, "please give me some . . . help."
"Okay."
With that single, offhand comment, Akane felt the
noose relax from around her throat.
Ranma watched a variety of emotions chase
themselves across Akane's face, before she finally settled into
a neutrally friendly expression. But he could see a soft ember,
warmly glowing deep inside her eyes.
*I am _so_ good,* he thought smugly. 'Course it
didn't hurt that girls were so gullible.
************************************************
Chapter: 21
Qin zei qin wang
(Catch the ringleader to nab the bandits)
Kasumi stretched, sighing as her shoulders cracked,
and slumped comfortably in her chair. Finished!
She stacked her papers neatly and dropped them in her
book-bag, frowning as she had to shove a small package
aside. *Got to remember to give that to Ranma,* she thought,
then promptly forgot about it as she slung the bag over her
shoulder and headed out the library by a side door.
"Let me get that for you."
Kasumi's automatic thank-you cut off with a gasp as
she took in the figure in bulky robes and beehive straw hat
standing in the dimly lit stairway.
"Who - - "
A broad strong hand clamped a cloth saturated in a
sweet-smelling liquid over her mouth. Her involuntary gasp of
fright filled her lungs, there was a brief burning sensation,
then nothing.
Working quickly the monk wrapped her limp body in
the rug he'd brought with him. He slung the shapeless bundle
over his shoulder and simply walked down the stairs and
across the campus, attracting some notice, but no outcries.
****
****
Kasumi woke with a groan, feeling as if the Tokyo
Dome had emptied a Backstreet Boys concert audience across
her tongue in muddy boots. Obviously she'd forgotten her
vow to _never_ play drinking games with Nabiki again. She
started to sit up, and found she couldn't move. Twisting her
head to one side she looked through bleary eyes and saw her
arm was fasted to the head of a bed with broad silk bands.
Lifting her aching head she saw her ankles were similarly
secured. She was tied to the bed! Slowly another fact
bubbled to the surface of her muddled brain. She was naked?
Around her the dirty grey walls of a warehouse disappeared
into the shadows.
"Awake already?"
Suddenly sober she tried to jerk away from the voice,
but the soft bonds held fast.
"Where is Saotome Genma?" The bed sagged as the
figure settled beside her. "Where is his son Ranma?"
"I . . .who are you." Her voice broke and she closed
her eyes, hoping this was all a nightmare. Things like this just
didn't happen to people in real life.
"I'm a dutiful son to my mother, loyal to the memory
of my father."
Anonymous in the beehive hat and shapeless kimono
the figure was inhuman, and frightening. The large double
row of pom-pom's running down the front of his kimono and
huge coloured neck ruff gave him the appearance of a
monstrous clown.
"Where is Genma?"
"I don't know." Kasumi whispered, frightened at
being in the hands of a madman, wearing a costume from a
bad historical drama.
"Once there was a man," the madman's voice took on
the cadence of a story-teller. "named Hibiki. He wasn't rich or
powerful or perhaps even very smart. But his wife loved him
and his son adored him." Shifting slightly, the featureless
straw face turned directly toward the bound schoolgirl. "One
day a _friend_ persuaded the man to invest in a business - - "
Kasumi paled at the venom that suddenly infused the
voice.
" - - salvaging precious metals from discarded
computers. They were going to get rich mining garbage
dumps for gold and silver and platinum. But the man's friend
vanished, and his life's savings with him. So the man lost his
home, his honor and all hope, until . . ." the voice grated to a
halt, then continued after a pause.
"His wife went to live with relatives and his son . . .
his son went into the mountains of Iga and learned things.
Wonderful things," He place a hand under Kasumi's chin and
tilted her head back until all she could see was the smooth
blank surface of his beehive-hat. "Terrible things."
Kasumi shrank back, pressing deep into the mattress.
"Has your memory improved? Do you know where
Genma is hiding," he whispered. "Where to find Ranma?"
"I don't know, really I don't."
"I see I'm going to have to persuade you." A slender
knife appeared in his hand and Kasumi whimpered in fright.
"I don't know, Please." Tears welled up in her eyes
and ran down her cheeks. "I don't know where Genma is.
Please don't hurt me."
"Hurt . . .?" He sounded shocked, then chuckled.
"This?" He waggled the blade, pulling a sausage out of a
hidden pocket and slicing off a piece. "I missed lunch, waiting
for you to finish up in the library." With surprising delicacy
for such a broad scarred hand he shaved off paper thin slices
and fed them through a slit in his head covering. "I'd offer
you some," he said apologetically, "but the drug I used makes
your stomach sensitive."
"Thank you," Kasumi whispered, politely. "But I'm
not very hungry."
"Now then," he folded the empty wrapper and put it
neatly into the trash. "I would really appreciate it if you would
tell me where to find Saotome Genma and his son."
"I really don't know," Kasumi choked out. "Genma
ran away weeks ago, and Ranma comes and goes. But I don't
know where he stays or when he'll come by the house."
With a heavy sigh the man rotated his shoulder to
loosen them and flexed his fingers. "I'd like to believe you, I
really would," he reached into the hidden pocket and
produced a leather pouch. "but I need to be sure."
"What . . .what are you going to do?" Kasumi asked
in horrified fascination as he pulled a silk scarf from the
pouch.
"I'm just going to ask you some questions" her captor
replied, trailing the end of the scarf across her bare shoulder
and between the valley of her breasts. "And you're going to
answer them."
Kasumi gasped at the feather light touch."Wh . . .wh
. . .what are you _doing_!" She squeaked, trying to suppress
a giggle that seemed horribly inappropriate.
"Did you think I would try to beat answers out of
you?" he said conversationally, as if Kasumi were a chance
acquaintance and not a kidnap victim tied naked to a bed. "Or
perhaps thumbscrews and hot irons?" At the expression of
Kasumi's face he chuckled, the sound oddly distorted by the
heavy straw hat covering his face. "The human body is built to
fight pain. And with enough pain I could get a stone to
confess, though not necessarily the truth."
The scarf continued it's maddening, endless journey,
like a thousand butterfly kisses across her breasts and belly.
"But _pleasure_," he switched tactics, trailing the very
tip of the silk across her breasts. "The body craves pleasure."
Kasumi moaned at the teasing sensations, flushing in
mortification as her nipples stiffened, like little soldiers
coming to attention.
"I am a master of Tantric Zen," he continued, pulling
out a second scarf. "And your body _burns_ like a furnace
with sexual energy. I can see your meridians of power, the
excess of Yin, how your body cries out for Yang."
An anguished mewling sound was forced from
Kasumi's lips as the second scarf caressed the delicate
junction between her legs. Involuntarily her body arched off
the bed, straining against her bonds in an effort to deepen the
contact.
"Within an hour you will tell me everything you know
about Genma and Ranma. Within two . . ." he stopped his
delicious torture and a hoarse cry of loss was wrenched from
Kasumi's throat. "You will belong to me body and soul." He
teased the silk along the inside of her knee and the bound girl
wept with frustration. "You will then willingly betray Genma
to me."
Kasumi gasped as he pressed a Ki meridian, flooding
her brain with endorphin, making her feel deliciously helpless
and feminine. As she sank into an erotic haze she knew she
would betray Genma, Ranma, her father and sisters. She
would do anything to ease the fire his touch had ignited.
"Of course, repeated treatments will leave you a
mindless zombie, so let us hope you find Genma quickly."
Manipulating Ki points the monk watched Kasumi's eyes turn
black as they dilated. In a few moments they would contract
and at that instant she would imprint on him, like a baby
chick, and slavishly follow his every - -
The massive steel loading-dock doors crashed open
under a tremendous blow. One hung drunkenly by a single
twisted hinge, the other hit the ground with a thunderous
crash and skidded across the dusty floor.
"My lady!" Kunou Kodachi stood frozen in the
doorway, long cape swirling around her ankles, huge two-
hand flamebard clenched in one steel gauntleted hand,
thirteen-inch Acorn dagger hanging from her right hip. Blood
thundered in her ears as she saw the stranger lay profane
hands on the sacred person of her Kasumi-sama. Without
hesitation she charged the monk, fire in her eyes, forty-six
inches of steel in her hand. "You fiend!"
The monk flung himself to one side and snatched his
staff from where it leaned against the corner of the bed.
"For God, Kasumi-sama and St. George!" Kodachi
roared, spinning her flame-bladed pike-breaker in a vicious
cut that would have bisected the monk like a soggy loaf of
bread if it had connected.
Diving to one side, the monk snapped the concealed
blade into place with a flick of his wrist, then lunged for
Kodachi's belly in one sinuous movement.
Twisting away, Kodachi felt a tug as the razor-sharp
steel ripped through her doublet. Shortening her grip on the
flambard, for better close-quarter work, she whirled her cape
around her left arm to use as a cape-main-gauche or sword-
tangler. Stepping back she let the point of her sword almost
touch the ground, just behind her leading left foot in a
modified Fools-Guard, deliberately presenting herself as a
target.
The monk took the bait and Kodachi demonstrated
why it was called Fools-Guard, snapping her cape like a whip
to tangle his spear-arm, dragging him off balance as she
stepped back sharply to her left, at the same time raking the
heavy blade diagonally across his abdomen in a powerful
back-swing.
With a shout the monk spun right, moving away from
her blade while yanking hard on the entangling cape, trying to
turn her move against her. But Kodachi had learned from a
master of Medieval Fence, who believed that blood and pain
were the best way to learn the dirty back-stabbing, eye-
gouging, nut-kicking tricks that kept you alive in combat.
Almost before the monk had started his move she'd spun the
cape loose from her arm and jumped back, sword pommel
low against her right knee, blade angled to stab upward from
her Ox-Ploughs guard.
More cautiously now the monk circled slowly to
Kodachi's left, puzzled by her fifth-century Great-Sword
technique, but instinctively trying to force her to expose her
unguarded side.
Kodachi recognized his ploy and instantly countered
with her own attack, striking hard and low at his legs, forcing
him into a low guard with his staff. The instant she felt her
blade hit his staff she stepped forward, slamming the sword's
cross-guard into his temple. Reeling from the smashing blow
the monk stumbled back, losing his distinctive head-covering.
"What sorcery is this?" Kodachi gasped, sword
wavering as she stared at the monks opaque, film covered
eyes. "Thou 'rt blind!"
"The price of my art," the monk grated, grasping his
rosary and focusing his power. "The light of this world for
sight in the next." The air shimmered as if from the heat of a
great fire as he hurtled his rosary at Kodachi shouting a word
of power. The mystic beads struck with a tremendous
explosion that blew out the windows and hurtled Kodachi
against the wall like a rag-doll. The dust cleared, to show her
crumpled against the wall, sword still clenched in her fist. The
monk took a step forward, then froze as Kodachi rose to one
knee with a groan. Driving the point of her great-sword into
the floor she pushed herself up along the wall and faced the
monk.
"Know that your foul magiks have no effect against a
Knight of Christendom." Beneath her smoldering doublet
could be seen the shattered remains of a mail shirt, a red-
enameled sterling-silver Templar's cross now visible, hanging
about her neck. "I fight in God's name and that of my good
lady. His hand shields me while her pure love sustains me."
Kodachi shrugged and the ruined mail fell to the
ground with a thud. "I fear not your satanic master, for he can
give me no hurt." Cracked ribs protested as she straightened
up and she bit back a moan of pain. "He can give me no
_significant_ hurt." she corrected, incurably truthful as all
faithful Knights of the Temple must be.
Grasping the amulet about her neck, that held within
a piece of the True Cross, she muttered a brief prayer, then
brought her great-sword above her head in the "Wrathful
Guard", right hand on the pommel, left against the hilt with
the blade angled behind her back.
"I am Kunou Kodachi, daughter and grand-daughter
of Samurai," her eyes began to glow as her body swelled with
power. "Knight protector of the Lady Kasumi, last of the
Temple Knights," her teeth bared in a snarl, "and your
DEATH!"
The monk barely had time to bring his staff to high-
guard position before Kodachi was upon him, great-sword
moving as if it were a willow-wand, not seven pounds of
steel. The warrior-monk's first counter was nearly his last as
the flame-like ripples of her blade set up a fierce vibration in
his staff that nearly wrenched it from his hands. Letting the
blade slide down her gauntleted hands Kodachi spun it like a
staff, catching him behind the knees with the guard and
jerking him off his feet.
With lightning speed the monk rolled aside, his spear
stabbing upward like a striking snake. Spinning left Kodachi
felt the spear-point grate along her ribs. With an internal howl
of triumph she clamped her arm against her side, twisting left,
binding his blade.
There was an instant of shock on the blind monk's
face as he realized she'd used her body to trap his weapon,
and in that instant Kodachi whirled her sword up and down in
a one-handed 'Cut from the Roof' that would have sliced the
monk from crown to crotch if not for his supernatural
quickness and Kodachi's injuries. The blade caught him on the
shoulder, biting deep as he rolled away, abandoning his
weapon. With a shout he kicked out from where he lay on the
ground, smashing Kodachi savagely in the knee. As she fell
heavily to the ground he scrambled out the door, trailing
blood and curses.
After a moment Kodachi struggled to her feet, biting
back a surge of nausea as her abused knee protested.
Distracted by the throbbing joint, which felt like someone had
been sawing at it with barbed wire, she forgot about her side.
Until the took a step, and the pain almost made her throw up.
Clenching her teeth until her jaw hurt she hobbled over to the
bed, using the flambard like a crutch and sliced Kasumi's
bonds with her dagger.
Settling on the bed with a groan, she examined the
long, shallow cut along her side. Calling on her Templar
training she forced back the pain, slowing the flow of blood to
a sluggish trickle as her body began to heal itself with
astounding quickness. Raising Kasumi from the bed Kodachi
patted her face gently. "My Lady, ar't well?"
Kasumi opened her eyes and Kodachi swallowed hard
as 'Her Lady' stared back at her with eyes that were all
whites, except for tiny pin-point pupils.
"My . . .My Lady?" Kodachi said hesitantly, slightly
unnerved by Kasumi's fixed stare.
"Kodahchi," Kasumi breathed.
"Thank G . . .Gahhhh!" Kodachi squeaked as Kasumi
wrapped her naked length around her savior. "My LADY!"
"Kodachi!" Kasumi seemed determined to refute the
assumption that two bodies couldn't occupy the same space
at the same time. Kodachi's ribs protested and she found it
hard to breath, as her face was pressed firmly between
Kasumi's breasts.
"My lady," Kodachi gasped, struggling to free herself
from Kasumi's prison of flesh, "this is not seemly . . .my
shirt!" Kodachi grabbed for the disappearing garment, but
found that Kasumi seemed to have grown several extra arms.
Without really knowing how, Kodachi suddenly found herself
the one in need of rescue, as Kasumi, with loving but ruthless
efficiency, divested Kodachi of her clothing and used it to
secure her to the bed.
"Please my lady . . .hehehe . . .that tickl - - NOoooh.
No you must not . . .whoooop . . . my pants!" Kodachi
squeaked breathlessly. "Stop . . . Oh my!"
************************************************
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