jorgepratt@prodigy.net.mx
Song of the Phoenix: Aria, by Jorge A. Pratt
Ranma 1/2 created by Rumiko Takahashi. (C) Rumiko Takahashi
/ Shogakukan. English version copyright Viz Communications.
Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VI created by Hironobu Sakaguchi /
Squaresoft. (C) Square-Enix.
No profit is made from this work of fiction. It is for the
entertainment of fellow fans only.
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Part One: Apertura
Chapter 3:
hielo
Thousands of them stood, vigilant and silent, as they had for the
last two millennia. Row upon row of ready warriors, together
with their steeds, had seen wars erupt and dynasties vanish
throughout the eras. Yet even they stood no chance against the
coming invaders.
Dust and clay crumbled from the walls and on the floor, and
the Terracotta Army shook with the rhythmic tremors, each
coming closer and stronger than the one before. Curators and
volunteers alike scampered about in a panic, desperate to
preserve the national legacy from the inexplicable quakes. In his
anxiety, the museum's administrator ran to the courtyard to
ascertain whether this was a natural occurrence, and nearly fell
on his rear when the reason was made apparent.
An enormous junk, sixty-five feet from prow to stern, was
quickly and steadily making its way through the streets of
downtown Xian. An equally impressive rickshaw preceded it --
though, from the size of its cart, it would be more accurate to call
it a man-powered stagecoach. Cars and motorcycles, far too slow
to keep up with the ancient-looking vehicles, had to swerve aside
to avoid being crushed.
Commuters and pedestrians gawked at the sight. Pulling on
the rickshaw was a man that gave new meaning to the term
"horse-faced." Lanky, tall, and muscular, he wore an outfit more
fitting to a mythical warrior. The cart itself was exquisitely
decorated with patterns of dragons in golden filigree, and a royal
crest spun on the axis of its four wheels.
Behind it, the junk also traveled through manpower, but
these men could only be called bestial. Hoisting the ship aloft by
the keel, two enormous men huffed and sweated under the
weight: one, clad in a tiger-pattern uniform to match his black-
striped orange hair; the other, bulky and wide like a water
buffalo, and also garbed like a warrior rather than a beast of
burden. The pavement cracked and gave under their strides, but
their pace remained ever constant in the rickshaw's wake.
High above the din and panic on the streets, a boy with a
wolf pelt over his head scanned the path behind them from the
crow's nest. Scowling, he slid down the mast and ran fore along
the deck to take a great leap onto the roof of the rickshaw. He
landed easily and silently, and swung over the side to knock
politely on the door.
"Yes, Mint?" came the answer from within.
"News of the foreigners, Master Herb," replied the youth,
and the door opened for him. Mint hesitated briefly, but then
gulped down his nervousness and pulled himself inside in the
blink of an eye. He kneeled immediately upon entering, having
intruded upon the privacy of his lord and his guest.
Master Herb, heir of the Dragon and Prince of the Musk
Dynasty, looked down at him with disdain and undisguised
curiosity. Across from him sat a young woman, a slip of a girl
really, her face pressed against the window to watch the cityscape
in rapt fascination. Mint could barely make out her delighted
expression, hidden as she was under a veil and so many layers of
silk and satin that all but her stature remained a mystery. He felt a
pang of disappointment; it was beyond him why Master Herb had
chosen those clothes for her, after all, they had seen her running
around naked before the foreigners arrived. Maybe there would
be a chance to see her titties again? They had already seen a pair
just like those the last time they went to Ja--
"Mint!"
"S-sorry, Master!" Mint realized he was giggling and hastily
shook out those thoughts from his mind. The Lady giggled in
sympathy, and to him it was as the tinkling of bells.
"What city is this?" she asked. Although she spoke Chinese,
Mint thought her dialect was far too archaic for someone who
was barely a couple of years older than he.
"It is called Xian," Herb replied with a sigh. "You would
have known it as Chang'an."
"Chang'an!" she exclaimed, and pulled up her veil to press
her face even harder onto the glass. Sadly, the cart was moving
far too fast for her to take in any of the details. "This is the city
we were coming to! Should we not wait for Fai Liang to join us?"
Herb frowned and shook his head. "Our time is short, and
we have a task to fulfill. You have my word that we will stop
here when next we come to this city." Turning to Mint he
commanded, "Your report?"
"Yes, sire," Mint faced him, trying to ignore the other
passenger on the cart. "Nira says, judging by the breeze from the
east, we'll reach Shanghai in another day. The... visitors," he
glanced nervously at the Lady, "have caught up with us. They're
fighting Rue's group thirteen miles up the road."
There was a pause as Herb considered the course of action.
The young woman seated before him had seemingly missed the
exchange --else she would have insisted that they stop to let the
so-called "visitors" in the party.
So naive. Amazing that she would still trust that... that
traitor.
"Tell Boldo to hasten his pace," he said evenly. "We must
reach the ports of Shanghai ere noon."
Mint grimaced, but acquiesced. "And what about _them_,
Master? Should Lime and me fall back and delay them?"
"Not just yet," said Herb. Silently, he leaned over and
touched a spot on the young woman's neck. Her eyes went wide
and she let out a faint "Ah" of surprise, then collapsed bonelessly
on her seat. Satisfied, Herb smiled, his fangs flashing. "Once we
depart, you and Lime are to wait for them at the harbor," he said.
His voice was vicious as he continued, "Spare them no mercy. If
possible, capture the woman --kill the man."
"Yes, Master Herb." Mint bowed, and was about to return to
his post when he caught a glimpse of the girl that slept soundly
on her seat. Scarlet tresses framed her face, resplendent in the
morning sun. "Master, what should we tell her when she finds
out? That... that guy's a friend of hers, isn't he?"
The dragon Prince's eyes flashed with fury, cowing Mint
into the side of the cabin. "No friend would kill you and leave
you in torment for a thousand years!" Snarling, he clenched his
fist, and a spark of white-hot chi emanated from it. "No. I shall
deal with her when the time comes. But he... he must suffer a
hundred hells, and he WILL die!"
* * *
The cavern was filled with a silence so intense that a sneezing ant
would have caused a ruckus. Even the surf had ceased, and no
more limewater dripped down onto the floor of the cave. Only
when Ranma fell flat on her face again did sound return to the
moment.
"Y-you're..." she stuttered, rubbing her head again. "But I
thought you were a... I mean... You're really my--" For once, her
mind functioned faster than her mouth and she corrected. "You
mean you're really Ranma's cousin?"
"Yup." Ruiko nodded, smiling. "It's great to meet'cha guys. I
_always_ wanted ta see who Aunt Nodoka kept talking 'bout
when she came over."
Standing, Ruiko pulled up her shoulder-length hair and
quickly braided it into a pigtail, while addressing Ranko,
"Y'know, she talks 'bout ya so much I almost feel like _you're_
my cousin too. Yer really just like she describes ya!"
"Uh, yeah?" Ranma rubbed her chin with the back of her
hand. "And so you're the one who has all that martial arts stuff in
your room?"
"Yeah!" She flexed a bicep. "I mean, I know I'll never be as
good as cousin Ranma, but I'm pretty good too!"
"Really? Hey, how 'bout a spar when we get back?"
"Oh, sure! I'd really like that!"
Akane watched the exchange, fascinated by it. Indeed, not
only had her earlier suspicions about Ranma's cousin been right -
-Ruiko really did look as though she were Ranma's sister from an
alternate world-- but now she realized just how... *alike* they
truly were. It was freakish, in a way, but strangely interesting to
see them chat so amiably and energetically. Even their gestures
were similar!
"Hey, Akane! Akaneee!"
Ranma's voice abruptly pulled her out of her examination.
"Huh? What?"
Ranma put her hands on her hips and sighed, "Yup, that's
what Ranma has to put up with." Ruiko snickered. Akane fumed
and scowled back at her fiance. "We were sayin' that maybe
you'd like to spar with Rui-chan too. Did you know she won
second place at a tournament in China four months ago?" Her
cousin smiled and nodded emphatically.
"Is that so...?" Akane said, and stood up. She then hugged
herself and shivered. "Brr.. Shouldn't we get out? It's freezing in
here."
"Izzit??" Ruiko seemed uncomfortable again. "Oh, sorry
'bout that."
The pair blinked at her, dimly unaware that the temperature
began to rise steadily. "Why is she apologizing?" Akane thought.
"It's not like it's her fault it's cold in here."
"It's really great getting to know you two," Ruiko said,
leading back to the mouth of the cave and out to the beach. "I got
a feelin' it's gonna be fun havin' ya around for vacation!"
* * *
"Rui-chan!" Nodoka exclaimed as she hurriedly climbed up from
the manor's garden to the veranda to greet her niece with a hug.
"Such a long time!"
"I missed ya, Auntie!" Ruiko hugged back, her smaller form
easily engulfed by the folds of Nodoka's kimono. "Found Ranma
yet?"
"Let me take a look at you," said Mrs. Saotome as she stood
back and brushed away a few golden locks from Ruiko's
forehead. She then licked her thumb and rubbed off a few
smudges of dirt and muck from the girl's face, causing her to
groan and squirm like a child. "No, I'm still one step behind him,
but I was this close to meeting him last time." She smiled, and
admonished gently, "And what have I told you about speaking in
that unladylike way of yours?"
Ruiko grinned and rubbed her head, giving a chance for
Nodoka to turn her eyes to the surprised Ranma and Akane
beyond her. "Two peas in a pod, ne, Akane-chan?" Akane
giggled openly while Ranma grimaced.
All the way up from the beach, which turned out to be part
of the Hisame state --not surprising, given that the cavern was
dug into the cliff beneath their house-- Ruiko had spared no
words in spouting out how much Mrs. Saotome was more like a
big sister than an aunt. It had even become a frequent game for
them to chastise for being such a tomboy or to tease for being
old-fashioned, with the goal of each contest being to get the other
into a feminine dress or a pair of jeans.
Was her mother trying to play the same game with "Ranko,"
Ranma wondered.
"I brought that dress your mother wanted you to wear, Rui-
chan," Nodoka said, "but I had to lend it to Ranko-chan for a
little while. That's all right with you, ne?"
Ruiko stuttered for a second, appearing uncomfortable with
the news. "Uh, sure, it's okay." She motioned towards the other
two girls, and said, "We're gonna go out and spar for a while.
Wanna go out later with us?" At her aunt's smile and nod, she
gushed an "Awright!" while thrusting her fist to the air, and
quickly turned to her guests and pulled them by the wrist.
"C'mon, lemme show you my room!"
Leaving Nodoka on her way to the garden outside, Ranma
and Akane followed the enthusiastic blonde to her room. Ruiko,
still in her swimsuit and wearing a baggy sweatshirt, was a small
and light figure that contrasted heavily with the stereotypically
"male" decor.
"So, how'd you guys like it around here?" she asked, taking
off the sweatshirt and unselfconsciously peeling away the
swimsuit, not even bothering with closing the door. Akane
boggled and gasped, covering Ranma's eyes with both hands and
leaving the redhead, who was already halfway out of her
swimsuit herself, flailing blindly in surprise.
"Hey, what the--? What's the big idea!?"
"We should, uh, let Ruiko-chan change in private...?" Akane
admonished through clenched teeth, backing for the door with
Ranma still in her grip.
"Hey, no prob with me, I mean, we're all family here, right?"
Ruiko smiled candidly at Akane, while Ranma vaguely nodded
and parroted, "Yeah, yeah, family, family..." The blonde
shrugged. "You're marryin' _my_ cousin, Ranko-chan here's
_your_ cousin..." She took Ranma's hand in her own and lifted it
high into the air, exclaiming joyfully, "We cousins stick
together!"
Akane felt Ranma's intense blush heat up her face under her
hands, and she finally released her after a moment's hesitation.
Ruiko had already ducked behind the wardrobe's door to don her
underwear, though, so she decided to drop the matter in the name
of family.
"I, ah, left my clothes in the other room," she said, ignoring
Ranma's annoyed glare. "Be right back!" And she was gone.
Ruiko sniggered. "Bit shy, ain't she?"
"You got NO idea," Ranma rolled her eyes, heading for her
luggage. "Oh, yeah, guess this is yours," Ranma said, fishing her
mother's white dress from her bag as well as her own clothes.
Ruiko waved her off, hiding a smile. "Nah, keep it. Auntie
said the other day that she'd want you to have it. Guess she only
brought it cuz Mom asked her to." She turned around, fastening a
brown belt around her waist. "B'sides, it'd fit ya a lot better
anyway. Fill it out and then some."
Ranma nearly choked, and Ruiko laughed good-heartedly.
Recovering, Ranma caught a glimpse of the back of Ruiko's gi
and blinked. It sported a rich, elaborate embroidery of a Chinese-
style phoenix, threaded in emerald, gold and ruby, though
slightly tattered from years of wear. It was similar in design to the
one on the swimsuit --and the ones on the bedspread and pillows,
now that she thought about it.
"You like those things, don'tcha?" she asked, pointing at the
figure on her cousin's back.
"Huh? Oh, this...?" Ruiko twisted around to try to look over
her shoulder. Her gaze turned pensive for a moment, as though
she were recalling an old memory, then answered, "Uhm... yeah.
I... I guess I do."
Staring oddly at the wistful smile on Ruiko's lips, Ranma
shrugged and continued to dress.
* * *
The sparring match went as expected, though not as badly for
Ruiko as Ranma had thought. Though nowhere near Akane's
level, the Hisame daughter had put up a respectable fight against
her. When it came to the match between cousins, however...
"That... that was cool!" Ruiko breathed out as she stepped
into the house, whirling around to gawk at the two other girls.
"Nobody should be allowed ta move that fast...! And how did
you... That was impossible!" She shook her head. "Is cousin
Ranma as good as you two?"
"Even better'n that!" Ranma grinned and rubbed her head.
Akane, not used to coming out the victor in a match --at
least, not after Ranma first came into her life-- fairly preened and
skipped happily in her step. "You're pretty good too," she said.
"And you said you learned by yourself, right?"
"Yup," Ruiko nodded eagerly. "Got a bit from Dad and his
stories, and the rest I picked up myself from books an' stuff." She
grabbed the towel that hung over her shoulder and dried the
sweat off her forehead. "But, I like this kinda thing because of
the Art itself, ya know? It's not cuz I like fightin' or anything."
Ranma and Akane paused in mid-stride, taken by surprise
by her casual comment. "I'll go cool down in the bath," said
Ruiko. "Wanna come?"
"Uh, I'll just walk around for a while," Ranma said. Akane
trained her eyes on her, as though urging her to use the time to
find her mother.
Ruiko shrugged, oblivious. "Okay, just make sure you take a
shower before Mom sees ya or she'll have a fit. C'mon, Akane-
san." She added with a grin, "Ya can close your eyes while I
change."
"H-hey!" Akane fumed, and chased a snickering Ruiko
toward the baths. "I'll have you know, it's not a big deal for me
either!" She screeched to a halt for a moment, and haughtily
turned to face Ranma. "And I'm better built, too," she sneered.
The redhead nearly fell on her face; Akane broke into
giggles and made a break for it before she could recover.
As she remained behind, staring after her fiancee and cousin
while they teased each other on their way to the bath, Ranma
sighed and let her shoulders slump. Akane's words from the train
echoed through her mind, and she knew they were right: she
couldn't hold the truth back much longer, and Ruiko's excitement
over "cousin Ranma" was a knife of guilt that bore a hole in her
chest.
Heading back outside, Ranma stepped off the walkway and
onto the cool, dewy grass. The hues of an intense midday would
soon gather in the sky, and the faint breath of the ocean caressed
her face and arms as she dropped to her bottom, sitting on the
edge of the back porch.
Ruiko sure was fun to be around, though. She was very
smart, and acted like a little sister to both her and Akane. And,
despite the priceless looks of shock she had whenever the older
girls pulled off a particularly impossible feat, she would quickly
set her face and try --with futility but determination-- to one-up
those feats with her own. Those traits, added to her contagious
good cheer, made her extremely hard not to like.
But at the moment, Ranma wished she knew how in the
world she was supposed to approach her with the truth. Until a
few moments ago, she had almost forgotten her plan to tell her
relatives about Jusenkyou, and she only had a day or two before
going back to Tokyo. Maybe, if she could come up with
something by tomorrow...
Her thoughts were whisked away by a sudden, powerful gust
of wind that came from the grove adjacent to the house. Leaves
and fronds rustled; infinitely small stings of dew were pulled
from the greenery and onto her face. Despite the heat of noon,
Ranma shivered in her Chinese vest's airy cut. And yet, an eye
opened against the rushing breeze to catch a glimpse of gleaming
steel amid the dense foliage.
Curious, Ranma stood and headed towards that glint. The
draft through the woods grew more intense with each few yards;
myriad trails of light filtered through the leaves, turning her form
and the entire grove into a dance of golden stars. In the center of
it all, was the source of the silver shine.
The building, like many of the bungalows around it, was
built in the style of a palapa --a tall roof, made of long grass and
palm fronds, supported by a framework of wooden struts.
Hoisted upon five thick pillars, it sheltered a hardwood deck,
lustrous with moisture, which was contained within a meter-high,
lattice fence from which coils of ivy hung lazily.
And her mother, her hair free and with her sword whistling
against the pushing wind, glided along the floor in wings of pale
blue cotton.
At first, the sight of the Saotome blade unsheathed turned
Ranma ivory-white. Sweat broke away from Nodoka's skin, some
of it landing on the metal as her hair followed her movements in
spite of the tug of the wind. At the look on her mother's face, and
upon noticing the steps that confined themselves to a haphazard
form, Ranma relaxed and allowed herself to be amazed by the
sudden discovery.
As pleasantly surprised as she was, though, she was far from
impressed. In contrast with the serious glare on her eyes, Nodoka
tripped and stumbled over herself constantly. The sword, as if
possessed with a will of its own, nearly pulled free of her hands
with almost every stroke. Even the kendou coat and hakama she
wore were more cumbersome than comfortable.
The slipshod dance continued for almost a minute, until the
Saotome matriarch noticed a flash of red in mid-step. With a
gasp, she stepped into her own ankle and fell; the katana tumbled
through the air before embedding itself in a nearby pillar.
"Auntie!" Ranma called out, dashing at her mother's side.
"R-Ranko-chan!" Nodoka quickly tried to sit up, red-faced
from both exertion and extreme abashment, but stepped on the
hem of her pants and fell on her rump once again. Ranma knelt
by her to ask if she was okay.
"Wh-what were you doing out here, Ranko-chan?" asked an
embarrassed Mrs. Saotome. "I thought you and Akane-chan were
taking a bath with Ruiko-chan."
"I just came out for a walk," the redhead replied, then held
out her hand to pull her mother to her feet. "What were you
doing, Auntie?"
Dread crossed Nodoka's eyes for a second while her mind
raced. Then, she stuttered, "I... was cleaning up!" In the blink of
an eye, she had dropped to the floor and started wiping it with a
handy rag. "Mayumi always forgets to clean up in here!"
The redhead tilted her head and smiled, "Auntie... Ranko-
chan saw you playing with that swooord..."
Nodoka flinched, but the playful singsong conveyed neither
reprimand nor ill-will. With a sigh, she sat back on her calves,
her downcast expression accentuated by the flowing curtain of
copper-brown that fell on her shoulders. "I-I'm sorry, Ranko-
chan."
Ranma frowned slightly, surprised. "Auntie? Why're you
sorry?"
Her mother continued to gaze downwards. "For... all this
time, I've been telling you to be more feminine and ladylike, and
now you see Auntie doing things like this..." She tugged at her
pants and turned her head away.
"What, you mean practicing with the sword?" Ranma asked.
At her mother's nod, she leaned down to look her in the eyes and
said, "It's okay, Auntie. I know a lot of girls who like martial arts.
I mean, look at--" Uhh, Ruiko? Bad example. Akane, the
tomboy? Kodachi? Gaah. Ukyou and Shampoo? Would her
mother consider _them_ feminine? "Um, anyway, there's lots of
girls who do martial arts!"
Her mother was hesitant to accept those words. "But I must
look so uncivilized like this..." She ran a hand through her hair,
her fingers becoming drenched with sweat. Again, the wind broke
into the palapa, causing the dark tresses to billow widely.
Ranma found it jarring to see her mother so ashamed,
especially after finding her to be such a strong person just
recently. Reaching out, she said, "Of course not, Auntie! You
shouldn't feel bad about liking this stuff! Even Ruiko-chan
practices it, and she said she doesn't like fighting!"
Nodoka looked up briefly, as if encouraged by the notion,
then gazed down again. "It's not like that, Ranko-chan. It's
because..." She paused, considering her words. "The other time I
visited you and Akane-chan, and I thought there was a molester
nearby, I realized something..." She wiped the sheen of sweat off
her forehead, her manners delicate as she did so. "I... I couldn't
really help either of you. I was relieved when I found out it was
just my son, but what if it hadn't been him?" She shook her head.
"I felt useless that I couldn't be there for you, or when Akane-
chan was helpless in her room."
Ranma shuddered at the memory --the same blade that
currently stretched out from a wooden pillar had almost skewered
_him_ when her mother mistook him for an intruder.
"So you want to learn..." the redhead suggested.
Nodoka's words were soft, yet carried the somber tone of
whatever impotency she had felt, and still seemed to feel, "I
couldn't protect you two... So I thought I'd..."
"Mom..." the word flitted through Ranma's mind as she
faced her mother, though she had to catch herself from saying it
out loud. The thought of Nodoka, who could barely handle a
sword, so worried about them that she was willing to overcome
her own prejudices and try to defend them...
"You must think I'm strange, don't you, Ranko-chan?" asked
the older woman, seeing the girl hesitate after hearing the
confession.
Ranma shook her head, "N-no, of course not." She smiled
for her mother. "You just got me by surprise, s'all." Once more
she helped Nodoka to her feet, and dusted off her shirt and
hakama. "Tell you what. How 'bout I help ya out with this stuff?"
Nodoka's eyes widened at the suggestion. Even so, she had
to fight down the reflex of scolding the girl's unladylike manners.
But the sight of those open, honest eyes, accompanied by a tiny
smile of reassurance, was enough to break a crack on her self-
imposed walls. With a shaky voice, she stuttered, "Ranko-chan?
You would--?"
The pigtailed girl grinned and rubbed her head nervously,
"Well, uh, I saw you trying to practice, and um... don't take it the
wrong way, Auntie, but you _really_ need to urk."
The "urk" was supposed to be a "take a couple of lessons,"
but the enthusiastic hug she suddenly received from her mother
had literally squeezed the air from her lungs.
"Ranko-chan...!" Nodoka breathed. "I... That's... Thank
you!"
"Uh, okay, Auntie..." Ranma replied from her mother's
bosom. The older woman's scent, discernible even through sweat,
filled her nostrils and renewed impressions made in a time she no
longer remembered. Tentatively, almost unconsciously, she
wrapped her small arms around Nodoka's back and shoulders.
Thus they remained for a few moments, the wind tugging at hair
and cloth and whistling around the unfeeling blade of the
Saotome heirloom.
The child's vacillation, then certainty in the embrace, was
not lost on Nodoka. She said nothing, instead choosing to savor
the impossibly-rare moment as she stroked the head of red hair.
"Um, yeah, anyway..." Ranma finally broke free from her
mother's arms and rubbed the base of her pigtail. "So, like..." She
looked up at the beaming woman. "Wanna get started?"
"Of course, Ranko-chan," Nodoka nodded eagerly. "I... I
think we'll lecture each other about not being feminine later, ne?"
She then lifted a finger theatrically to her lips, "But I do believe
there were a few women warriors in the feudal era..."
Ranma couldn't suppress a snicker as her mother waxed
poetic on the femininity of blood-soaked, sword-swinging
soldiers charging fiercely into battle, and how their choices on
facepaint colors matched their hair ornaments. Shaking off the
few remaining flakes of the previous hug's warmth, she yanked
the katana free from the pillar and picked up its scabbard.
"What could we use..." she said to herself as she looked
around the palapa. "Aha! Perfect."
"Hmm? What are you looking for, Ranko-chan?"
"Something you could use for practice. I don't think Ruiko-
chan does kendo, though..." She picked up a mop that was
leaning conveniently against the fence. "Besides, it's not like
y'can go around slashing at people with a real sword, even if they
look dangerous." Ranma twisted the stick off of the mop and
walked over to Nodoka. "Hold this for a sec, okay?" she asked.
"Yes, but I don't see how..."
Nodoka's words died in her throat when Ranma grasped the
Saotome blade in one hand and, in a flash of steel, slashed at the
stick in her hands. The elder Saotome yelped and closed her eyes.
"It's okay, Mo-- Auntie," Ranma smiled. Nodoka opened her
eyes and saw that the mop stick had been sliced at the sides, a
few inches beyond her hands, giving it a roughly rectangular
shape. The redhead finished by slicing off the tip of the stick
diagonally, giving it into a vague semblance to a bokuto. Nodoka
stared vacantly at the handiwork.
"Yeah, that should work," Ranma said, inspecting the
"sword" in Nodoka's hands. The stick had been long, but so was
the actual katana: proportionately, it was just as large for Nodoka
as the Saotome blade was for herself.
"We hafta get ya a real one later," said the redhead. She
sheathed the live blade and swung it around, testing the
scabbard's grip on it. Assured that the sword was safely encased,
she said, "Okay, let's get started!"
With nod of anticipation, Nodoka walked over to her and
stood by her side, holding her makeshift bokuto in a ready stance.
Ranma nodded back at her and began to speak.
"All right, before anything else, I'm gonna teach ya how to
walk in martial arts..."
* * *
"So, Akane-san..." Ruiko smiled mischievously. "You and cousin
Ranma set a date yet?"
"A date for what?" asked Akane while her bucket filled with
water.
Ruiko brought her own ladle over herself, shivering in the
cold of the water. "The wedding, of course!"
The washbowl slipped from Akane's fingers and splashed
noisily at her feet. "Wh-wh-what?" Her face turned bright
crimson and she sputtered. "Wh-what are you talking about?!
We're not getting married!"
Ruiko's face became one of confusion. "But... Auntie said..."
She blinked a few times. "Don't you and cousin Ranma love each
other? I thought you two were... You know, that he was your
fiance."
Akane became redder still, facing away in a huff. "Th-that's
not it at all! Besides, he's still an insensitive, inconsiderate jerk!"
Again, the blonde only stared at her in bewilderment. "O-
okay..." she said noncommittally. "Um... anyway, what's he like?
I only hear that Aunt Nodoka wants him to be manly or
something." After a small pause, she added, "Is it true Ranko-san
is just like him?"
"Well..." Akane grimaced, thinking about how to answer
that. "I guess... they're just like each other! Uh, yes, you could
say that they're one and the same!"
Ruiko smiled at that. "I thought so. My aunt said that she
saw them dressed the same way and everything last time she
visited ya." She snickered, "Guess I'll hafta take some real
lessons if I wanna catch up with him in the Arts, right?"
"Right," Akane smiled in amusement and stepped into the
tub. "But you're really pretty good. You said you learned
everything yourself, right? I'm sure you'd be even better if you
wanted."
"Maybe..." Ruiko said, as if considering this option.
"Anyway, I'll be waiting outside, okay?" She finished rinsing and
stood up, already heading for the door.
Akane frowned, "Aren't you going to come into the bath?"
Ruiko paused. Her face was turned away, but Akane could
almost imagine the nervousness building in the blonde's eyes.
"Uhh... not right now. It's pretty hot outside, y'know? And I'm not
really c-cold--" She sneezed noisily to prove her point. Once,
twice, and three times that caused her to slip and fall on her
rump.
"You'll catch a cold, Rui-chan," Akane said. "Won't you
come in the bath?"
The sound of dripping from the shower echoed loudly while
Ruiko mulled over the suggestion. For a moment, Akane
wondered why Ranma's cousin was so reluctant as to enter the
water. She certainly hadn't been self-conscious at all before,
almost as aware of the concept of modesty as Ranma.
Could it be related to the way she had... "rescued" them
from the raging sea just a few hours ago?
"Um..." Ruiko finally said. "Okay. Just... could ya turn
around for a sec, Akane-san?"
"Oh? S-sure, Rui-chan..." Akane replied, hastily turning
away from the strangely-mortified blonde. For a moment, she
thought she heard her voice a few words that were too faint to
make out, and the weak tap of something small being placed on
plastic. Instants later, Ruiko stepped into the water, though not
without reluctance --almost as if she expected something to
happen. Once she was fully immersed, she appeared to relax and
she lay back against the tiles.
"Aaah... haven't had a nice hot soak in a loooong time..."
she purred. Akane said nothing. "Too bad Ranko-san didn't
wanna come with us. I wanted to ask her something..." Ruiko
turned a lazy gaze towards Akane, "Wish you guys could stay
here longer. I bet you'd be great friends."
"Yeah..." Akane said. "You... you're going back to Kyoto in
a few days, right?"
"Uh-huh," was the reply. "Back to school already. Mom and
Dad want me to become a doctor."
Akane giggled. "Figures. Is that what you want too?"
The blonde nodded slightly, "I... yes. Wish they didn't push
me into it so hard, though. I'd rather help out with the inn." She
grimaced, shrinking into herself as she went on, "I mean, don't
get me wrong. Mom and Dad are doing the best they can to send
me to school, and I'm pretty good at it, but..." Then, in a whisper
so faint that Akane could barely catch, she added, "And I owe it
to him, anyway..."
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing," Ruiko sat up straight and shook her
head. "What about you, Akane-san? Wanna teach martial arts or
something?"
"Uh... yes, I think" Akane replied, surprised. "How did you
know...?"
Ruiko grinned, "You looked pretty serious back there.
Looks like you're really into martial arts, at least a whole lot more
than I am." She patted Akane's shoulder, "I bet you'd make a
wonderful sensei."
Akane blushed, and found herself drawn by the openness of
the sapphires upon her; an encouragement she realized she had
never received. "Th-thanks," she managed to stutter.
* * *
The problem with being descended from animals, Herb decided,
was that you didn't get to choose which attributes to inherit.
Take Nira, for instance. Excellent speed, a focused mind, an
eyesight that rivaled Mint's, and an internal compass that allowed
him to navigate accurately in the darkest night with virtually no
frame of reference. He was the first and obvious choice for
captaining the Musk's flagship.
The problem was, he had a tendency to migrate south during
the winter. And then there was his obsession with fish...
"Winds be friendly today, aye, spindrift be comfy," the
white-haired captain said, cooing at the gull perched on his
finger. Herb nodded, and waved his entourage over to the port.
As was the case in the city, bystanders quickly scurried away to
allow the ambulant junk a wide berth. Heaving with all their
power, Lime and the buffalo warrior tossed the vessel into the
harbor, kicking up a wave that flooded the docks momentarily
and soaked everyone in sight save for their Master.
"Subtle," Herb let out a sigh of exasperation and allowed his
simmering aura to fade away. He watched as many of his sodden
servants scampered for the mooring lines before the junk could
drift away on its own. "Captain," he commanded, "make ready to
sail at once. Lime, Mint, you have your orders."
He headed back to the rickshaw parked nearby when Nira
swooped down ahead of him. "M-master! We can't launch
today!" The gull on his hand whistled loudly. "Beakly say there
be an ox-eye in our path!"
Herb grimaced. "I fail to see how the body parts of cattle
should impede our mission." There was an awkward pause, and
he added, "'Beakly'?"
"My first mate, yes sir!" the captain beamed proudly. The
seagull pecked his ear. "It be not --ow!-- not cattle, sir. It means a
nasty storm be brewing leeward of here. Beakly says we should
wait another week or so, when the weather be warmer and the
sardine be lazier."
The Musk Prince rubbed the arch of his nose. But as much
as he wanted to blast the gull-brained twit and his human perch
out to open sea, he really had no choice. Lime and Mint's
seafaring experience was limited to personal craft, and he
couldn't fly all the way across the Sea of Japan --much less with a
passenger.
"We have a very urgent task, _Captain_," Herb strode up to
the seaman, igniting his chi just enough to make both feather and
hair stand on end. "Our guest _be_ in danger for the fearsome
murderer trailing us" --Nira gulped-- "and he will spare none in
his path. You don't want to _be_ in his path do you?" His aura
flickered in and out of visibility. "Or in mine?"
"N-no, sir! Beakly and I shall ready her right away!"
"Good." Herb allowed himself a wicked grin. "There shall
be buckets of herring waiting for you at the end of our quest." He
strode back to his rickshaw and opened the door.
"S-sir? And Beakly?"
Herb sighed theatrically once more. "Yes, yes, and for him
too. Now get to work. You have three minutes." Annoyed, he
shook his head and listened as his subject dashed off to shout
orders at other Musk troops already aboard the vessel. He paused
to make a mental note to ban any and all avian creatures from the
Musk gene pool --even if they _had_ stopped using Jusenkyou to
that end, he didn't want to chance it.
He emerged from the vehicle with the young woman in his
arms, who still dozed peacefully under the induced slumber.
Gently, he levitated onto the deck of the ship --it wouldn't do to
wake her up with a leap, especially not now-- and took her below
to the captain's cabin.
As he lay her down on a bunk, he observed her face and
marveled again at how... how similar she and the other one were.
Even if the likeness were mostly superficial, the sight was still
unsettling to behold. There was no warrior's spirit in this one, and
hot water would no longer have any effect. But there was no
denying the resemblance. It was ironic, then, that this very same
resemblance was the reason for his anger so long ago.
His ruminations were cut short as the sails billowed noisily
in the wind, jerking the vessel forth with a ponderous surge. And
just in the nick of time: scant minutes later, he distinctly heard
Mint's cry of "They're coming!"
Spinning on his heel, he swept his cape about him and
strode back above deck to catch a glimpse of a faint white shine
in the distance. But it was too late. His subjects had already cut
away the moorings, and the wind had swiftly picked the junk with
its full force. The harbor, and his loathsome foe, would be but a
memory in a matter of minutes.
Smiling, he let his chi rise forth in a burst of white light. He
clenched his fists, and the air boomed outwards at the intensity of
his aura. The junk's sails, already strained under the wind, were
blown ahead by the pressure, increasing the ship's speed beyond
its natural limits.
"I should thank you for all your help, Fai Liang!" the Prince
exclaimed towards the land, his voice making the concrete docks
shudder. "But you will never again bring them any more harm!
Lime, Mint! Make sure that he dies with the knowledge that it
was _I_ who awakened her! Make him suffer as much as the
twins did!"
His personal guards bowed to him, and then nodded to each
other. Oh, boy, a fight! They hadn't had a chance to fight for real
since their last trip to Japan! And with Master Herb already
several hundred yards into open sea and still accelerating, they
would have a chance to cut loose with all their might.
They didn't wait long. Lime had barely had a chance to
recuperate when they saw two people, one of which shone with a
muted white light, rush into the docks. They both wore long
hooded cloaks, black as night, that hid most of their features but
for the long and shining silver hair of the illuminated figure. The
Musk warriors smirked, and Mint drew his saber from his back.
The cloaked enemies came to a halt before them. "Damn!"
one of them said, his voice shuddering with anxiety. "He took
her! He took her!"
"There are more pressing matters at hand," the silver-haired
one said. Her own tone was flat and analytical.
"Master Herb told us to hurt you," Lime grinned, cracking
his knuckles. It was a sound not unlike boulders crumbling.
"Nothing personal, you know? Orders are orders."
"She said you were friends, and I didn't want to do this,"
Mint tsked, "But if you really hurt that girl, if you were the one
who did that--!" He let out a feral growl. "I'm gonna make you
pay for it!"
The man in the cloak flinched, and futilely reached for the
staff slung across his back. The woman merely stood, her hair
dancing in the wind.
Without a second thought, Lime and Mint rushed them.
* * *
For the first time in her life, Ranma found herself in the role of a
teacher rather than a student. She had already contemplated the
idea before, in regards to Akane, but said fiancee's temper
coupled with her own impatience had quickly squished, crushed
and made julienne fries out of those thoughts.
While she trained Nodoka, she noticed ruefully how her
father's teachings found an echo in her own. Having no other
experience, she had unconsciously fallen into the same methods
of "learning through experience" rather than by example that
Genma had drilled into her head. Still, it was fortunate that her
Art included extensive use of weapons, which was finally paying
off. She didn't think her mother would prefer learning unarmed
fighting styles.
Nonetheless, the woman was a fast learner. After only a
couple of hours into the training, she could perform a few small
and simple attacks and defenses. Nothing fancy, or something
that would win her any contests, but at least they gave her a solid
understanding on the basic dos-and-don'ts of martial arts.
"Never thought I'd say this..." Ranma thought, wiping sweat
from her neck, "but I wish Kunou was here. He'd be better at
stuff like this." Then she noticed something, and walked over to
Nodoka to stop her in mid-stride. "Auntie, hold on a sec."
An overhead slash stopped halfway through its arc. "Yes?
What is it?"
Ranma flinched slightly; the tone of Nodoka's voice was one
of respect and expectation --a tone used for addressing a teacher.
She must really be into it, thought the redhead. "Um, it's your
hair. Doesn't it bother you?"
Nodoka stood upright, running a hand through her flowing
hair. "I didn't think about it. I suppose I shouldn't have let it down
before starting. But my head feels so hot if I don't..."
Ranma shook her head. "That's not it. I just meant that you
should, uh, hold it down or something. You know, to keep it
outta the way. It just keeps hittin' your face when you move,
blocking your eyes."
"Oh...?" Nodoka stared evenly at her. "All right, I'll do
that." She set her practice sword on the floor and kneeled, then
set forth in braiding it. Ranma stared, befuddled, as she saw her
mother's hands run through the exact same motions she herself
employed when braiding her hair. In spite of the woman's usually
delicate, graceful manners, she even tugged as hard at the copper
locks as her child usually did, performing the task quickly and
efficiently. The end result was a tight rope that reached just
slightly beyond her shoulders.
"Oh dear..." she said to herself, looking around while still
holding the end of her pigtail in her hands. "Ranko-chan, I don't
suppose you have something for this?"
"Not really," Ranma replied. Her own braid was tied off
with an ordinary piece of string. She would have given her one of
the ties from her trouser legs, but because of the summer heat she
had taken to wearing them loose around the ankles. Plus, her
mother's hair was only a bit longer than her own; she couldn't just
knot the braid around itself.
"I know," she said, in a sudden flash of inspiration.
Unsheathing an inch of the katana, she picked out a few strands
from her fiery mop and, without worry or thought, cut them off.
She smiled as she handed the ruby threads to a stunned Nodoka.
"R-ranko-chan..." the elder Saotome held out a hand to
accept the offerings, staring at the golden shine that danced down
their lengths.
Seeing her troubled, Ranma asked, "Want me to tie it up for
ya, Auntie?"
The question shook Nodoka out of her musings. "N-no,
that's okay, dear..." She took the clippings and knotted them
around the end of her braid, tight but with enough care not to
break them. When she was done, she reached for her practice
sword, but it kept eluding her grasp at first. Her mind was still
elsewhere when she stood and regarded her young sensei.
"Something wrong, Auntie?"
"No, nothing's wrong, Ranko-chan..." replied Mrs. Saotome.
As if the idea had just occurred to her, she then said, "I... I was
wondering..." But she shook her head. "Ne-nevermind."
"What is it?" Ranma looked up at her, puzzled by her
mother's behavior. She had been acting strange since the "lesson"
started, and her nervousness seemed to have grown stronger.
Unable to deny the girl's questioning gaze, Nodoka sighed
softly and pressed on, "I... Could you... do some of these martial
arts you practice? I... I'd like to watch you."
Ranma was dumbfounded by the request. At most, she
would have expected a question about kendo, or even kenjitsu,
since that was what they were practicing. Then again, there had
never been an opportunity to show her Art to her mother. It might
be a good idea to help plow the ground before...
"Uh, sure, Auntie!" Ranma said, shifting gears into "Ranko
mode" and smiling cutely at her mother. Instants later, all girlish
demeanor vanished, replaced by a fierce look of concentration as
she stepped away, putting some space between herself and
Nodoka. Understanding the notion, Mrs. Saotome also stood
back to allow her greater room for movement.
Ranma faced forward, loosened her muscles, craned her
neck to relax it, and then turned into a blur.
The Anything-Goes School, and the Saotome style in
particular, had very little use for the rigid structure of katas and
standardized forms. Fluidity and creativity being central tenets to
the Art, its adepts were taught to never use the same methods
twice, instead mixing as many and varied means of attack and
defense as the situation allowed --both to keep the opponent
guessing, as well as to avoid falling into detectable patterns
which could lead to openings or predictability. True to her
School, Ranma trained by focusing her mind on creating an
imaginary opponent before her, one which embodied all other
enemies she had faced in battle, and fell in step with that
shadowy figure in an improvised dance of skill and agility.
She had barely even begun when she heard Nodoka gasp in
astonishment, and she swelled with pride. It was a shame she
couldn't show her mother the true extent of her abilities --she was
saving the real deal for when he, as a man, had a chance to show
to his mother how he was the best martial artist around-- but she
enjoyed Nodoka's awe all the same. Deciding to up the ante just a
bit, she leapt up and pulled her invisible partner into the air,
combining a few of her favorite techniques into a brutal display
of aerial combat.
With speed she rarely ever displayed, she leapt from pillar
to pillar in the palapa, ricocheting off the floor or swinging from
the ceiling without missing momentum. The attacks came swift
and powerful, belying her small stature. Like a hummingbird, she
zipped around the hall locked in battle with her faceless
opponent.
Nodoka let out another breath of amazement, and Ranma
smirked. To hell with it, she thought. If she was going to
convince Nodoka that she was a manly man, why not start right
away? And with those thoughts in mind, Ranma shot into the air
to show her mother what she was _really_ capable of.
The floorboards shook, the wind whistled, and Ranma felt
the sweat fly off her face as the hall became a white-and-green
blur all around her, one in which only her mother and her
imaginary enemy were real enough to have solid shapes. Blows
connected, kicks were avoided, and Ranma smirked upon gaining
the upper hand. But then, just as she was about to deliver the
finishing strike and flourish before her mother, her eyes blurred.
The illusory, featureless opponent before her, who had taken on
masks in the vague likeness of Ryouga, or Pop, or Mousse, or
Tarou throughout the session, had suddenly acquired a definite
face.
Her own.
She was surprised, her attack almost failed to connect. All
the same, her pause allowed an opening for a counterassault.
Imaginary as though it was, it caught her full in the chest and she
gasped, sucking wind at the shock. She was instantly pulled out
of her trance, falling to the very real deck of the palapa just as
Nodoka rushed to try to catch her. She recovered quickly,
though, and Ranma spun in midair to land on the tip of her toes,
staggering only for a second while she frowned and looked up,
annoyed at her overactive imagination.
"Ranko-chan!" Nodoka gasped, worry etched across her
face. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, 'm fine," Ranma mumbled, thinking to herself,
"What the hell was that?"
"Oh, I'm so glad," her mother sighed in relief. "You were
doing so well..." She smiled. It was a gentle smile, brimming with
pride, and Ranma blushed in response, her earlier annoyance
vanishing completely as Nodoka put a hand on her cheek. "That
was very beautiful, Ranko-chan. I'm so happy you decided to
teach me, even if..." she snickered to herself, "even if you're a bit
of a tomboy, that was beautiful."
Ranma chuckled in spite of herself, rubbing the back of her
head. Beautiful? She had designed her attacks to look strong,
flashy, but most of all devastating. At least, that was her
intention. There was some grace and coordination needed for the
Art, yeah, but that had been a secondary concern. Maybe it's
because Mother saw her pull of the routine as a girl? She'd
definitely have to one-up this performance as a man, she thought.
She looked up into her mother's eyes for a moment, noticing
that she was regarding her with something akin to recognition.
Panicking, she stepped out of Nodoka's touch --to her own regret-
- and turned away, heading back to the entrance to pick up the
swords. "Wh-whaddaya say we call it a day?" she said, fidgeting
with the hilt of the Saotome blade. "Great workout today. We,
uh, we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow."
Nodoka stared at her silently for a few instants. Ranma
couldn't tell what sort of thoughts flitted through her mind, but
she was relieved to see her mother smile and nod in reply. She
was even more pleased when Nodoka joined her and put her arm
around her shoulders, and together they headed back to the
Hisame manor.
(tbc)
Jorge A. Pratt
jorgepratt@prodigy.net.mx
terbril@rocketmail.com
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