Ah My Goddess Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Wallets ❯ Maternal Affairs ( Chapter 80 )

A Tale of Two Wallets

(An Altered Destiny)

Written by Jim Robert Bader

Proofread by Shiva Barnwell

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" the barkeeper asked of the burly man who had just recently been a patron of his establishment.

"Oh?" Ra-Zor asked as he turned to glance back at the man in the alleyway, trying to place him and finding the fellow was only vaguely familiar, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes something is wrong!" the Barkeep snarled, "You walked out of my place without paying for your drinks, that's what!"

"Oh?" Ra-Zor tried to remember and then thought a moment and said, "I was buying a drink?"

"What, did you think it was going to pay for itself?" the Barkeep cried indignantly, "Get back here and give me some money!"

"Oh, all right," Ra-Zor reached into his pants pocket, only to find he had somehow misplaced his wallet. He turned the pocket inside out but could not find it, so he explored the other pocket and only found the usual junk that had a habit of winding up there. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I guess I dropped it back in your place. Maybe you can tell me where it is so I can look?"

"No money, huh?" the Barkeep smiled nastily, "Next thing you know you'll accuse somebody from my place of stealing it from you."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't do that," Ra-Zor replied in an affable tone of voice, "I'm sure it will turn up eventually…somehow it always does…"

The Barkeep dismissed the tall man as an obvious drunkard, but the nasty smile never left his face as he snapped his fingers and said, "Don't bother, I know another way you can earn your keep."

At the Barkeep's summons several unsavory residents of the neighborhood roused themselves to produce an array of wicked looking implements, mainly employed for the purpose of Shanghaiing the unwary into the underworld pits that made this notorious port city so disreputable in most civilized quarters of the planet. The burly man looked like he could make a pretty good slave to one of the various paying customers who were in need of employees who did not ask for union wages, and from the way this fellow moved it was even possible that he might know something about fighting. They could always use new raw talent in the slave pits where men were trained to fight for the amusement of rich patrons, and without needing to worry about such bothersome details as retirement fees and health benefits. The Barkeep was well known to the community as a man who could spot raw talent and supply it on demand, for there was no shortage of available "recruits" who might accidentally lose personal belongings and shortly thereafter wind up discovering new employment options.

Of course in this particular occasion the Barkeep in question was to discover that he had woefully underestimated the caliber of this particular "raw talent."

Ra-Zor had not wanted to seriously hurt any of the misguided individuals who had mistakenly attacked him under what had to be a simple misunderstanding, but neither was he one to ignore a threat when it presented itself, not that these fellows were all that threatening to begin with. As calmly and as reasonably as he could manage, Ra-Zor "explained" that it was a very bad idea to attack the grandson of a former Matriarch of the Joketsuzoku, let alone one who had Oni blood and a full Demoness for a mother. There were no more than a paltry dozen or so individuals coming after him, (not including the Barkeep himself, who hastily realized the error of his ways in time to flee the ensuing carnage), so the fight-such as it was-barely lasted a full minute. When it was over and bodies strewn the alleyway, some profusely groaning from numerous "unavoidable" injuries, Ra-Zor took stock of the whole affair and sighed. He wondered why people were also so unreasonable when a man just wanted to be left alone to pursue his endless wanderings. If more people left well enough alone, there would be fewer such individuals currently laid up in traction in various hospitals throughout Europe and Asia.

But then he chanced to glance down and-wonder of wonders-there was the wallet he had somehow lost during his visit to the Barkeep's establishment. That it looked somehow different from the wallet he had been using that very morning did not even occur to him, seeing as it was plain and black with a worn crease and stuffed full of money, which were all the identifying markers that he required. He picked it up and pocketed this then amiably returned to his wandering ways, only to pause as his roving eye caught sight of something that caught his attention in the moonlight. He knelt to pick this up, wondering if it was the laundry slip he had been looking for after the last time he had to clean blood off of one of his jackets?

It did not look precisely like a laundry slip, he discovered, but it did look rather a lot like a lottery ticket, so he decided to hold onto it in case its original owner might get lucky. He straightened out and went about his way, already forgetting all about the fight he had just been in, nothing about it being of particular significance to a man who had seen a lot of roughhousing in his two hundred and ninety-three years of existence…

"Drat it all, he's late," commented Captain D'Amour, owner of the dubiously named vessel, "The Worthless Piece of Shit," which was known and loathed throughout the seven-and-a-half-seas that it often had the habit of notoriously patrolling.

"I know, Cap'n," his faithful (and there were not many crewmembers of the TWPOS about whom that could be considered accurate) companion, Frog, responded for the third time in as many minutes, "I guess he got a bit detained making his way to this pier. You know what kind of a rough neighborhood they've got in these waters."

"That's true," noted the burly crewmate known as Brunt (which was also quite fitting considering his burly appearance), "If a man only loses his life here, he's considered to have gotten off lucky."

"That doesn't excuse the rudeness of making us wait for him like this," D'Amour sulked, "We'll miss the tide at this rate, and why the devil do we need to wait on him anyway? We've got a schedule to run, and shipments to deliver…"

"Actually, sir," Frog reminded him, "He's our only paying customer…something about wanting to avoid trouble with the local authorities, pain of execution, that sort of thing."

"Who the blazes did he offend?" D'Amour asked, "The bloody Governor of this region?"

"Tyger Tiger, sir," Brunt replied, "One of the local honchos who run this whole region. Also a fellow by the name of Patch is wanting to have a few words with the guy, so whatever he did, it must have pissed off a lot of very important people."

"So he's traveling incognito and wants to avoid attention," Frog continued, "And you can't get much more incognito than to book a passage on our ship. I think he said he was going to obtain a few funds for travel expenses, but after that he'd be wanting to ship out of here just as soon as we could manage."

"I'm not concerned with petty details and excuses," D'Amour replied, "He's not here in the next…well, hello, what do we have here?"

"Don't know," Frog said, "But it could be our client. Never got a proper look at the guy, and it was kind of murky in that smoke-filled tavern…"

The burly gentleman who walked up to the pier was not a fancy dresser by any account, his clothes looking as though they had been borrowed off of several people, not all of whom fit his particular size and dimensions. He was, however, holding onto the requisite boarding pass, so it was reasonable to assume that he was indeed the proper owner of said ticket. After all, how was anyone to know that the proper owner had indeed met up with a fellow named "Patch," and was currently discussing the various sordid details of his life story with the appropriate agencies in the afterlife? After all, things like that tended to happen in Mardripoor.

Ra-Zor had been examining the ticket to get a better view of it in the light, and had aimlessly wandered onto the pier without realizing where he was going. He spotted a number of odd looking fellows standing off to one side of the docks and thought perhaps to ask them for directions. Imagine, therefore, his surprise when he no more than opened his mouth, only to find the long-haired man in the fancy dress of a swash-buckling pirate captain impatiently turning on one heel and saying, "Right then, come along, no sense waiting any longer."

"But…" Ra-Zor stared to explain himself, only to have a smaller man say, "You heard the Cap'n, no sense waiting around to see if he means it. Last guy kept him waiting he just yanked up the anchor and left him standing by the beach."

"He means well enough," the black skinned man of a fair size and dimension rivaling Ra-Zor's himself said encouragingly as he patted Ra-Zor on the shoulder and guided him towards the boarding ramp leading up to a curiously run down looking vessel, "But our Cap'n doesn't number patience among his virtues…assuming he has any."

"Well…" Ra-Zor reasoned that it would be impolite to argue, but still it was an odd time to be taking an ocean voyage, the sun not even being out and all that. Still when it came to sailing ships the only criteria he usually demanded was that they stay afloat and remain reasonably dry, and in at least one of these two elements it appeared-not quite what one would call a "miracle," but close enough-to be staying up on the right side of the water.

As he was welcomed aboard to the curiously run down looking ship, however, the burly man spotted a girl who was passing by one of the hallways and said, "Hey, Aki! We got a paying guest this time. You want to show him around to his cabin?"

"What do I look like?" the dark haired girl demanded, "A tour guide?" But then she took one look at the new arrival and said, "Wow…where did you find HIM?"

"He's the client," Brunt said solicitously, "So go easy on him, okay?"

"Sure thing," Akiko latched herself onto the man's arm, still grinning, "Where are you going, Handsome? And how can I help you to get there?"

"Ah…well…" Ra-Zor replied to the nice girl, wondering exactly how he should answer that since he never really had to go anywhere, mainly because he could never remember where he had been in the first place. A nagging sense, however, made him study this girl as if he had seen her somewhere before…if only he could remember…

"His ticket's for Japan," Brunt replied, "Assuming we can get there this season."

"Are you implying I can't find the main Islands on my own?" Akiko growled dangerously, only to receive a bland expression from her crewmate, "Humph…I'm not the ship's Navigator for nothing."

"That's true," Brunt murmured as the two Hibikis wandered off together, "That Cap'n would have to pay you a salary for that."

Akiko ignored his crewmate's snide comment, vowing to get back at him later. At the moment a nagging sense was telling her that the man beside her was familiar in some manner, but while she was certain that she would recognize a good looking guy like him anywhere, it had been a while since she had met anyone on board the "good" ship TWPOS who was this interesting with which to spend time, so she ignored the usual good advice her subconscious was telling her about getting lost on board the vessel. She just hoped the fellow at her side did not mind a long trip negotiating corridors and exploring exotic parts of the vessel usually not seen by mortal man. After all, anything might happen if she spent enough time getting to know him better.

If only she didn't have this nagging sense that the fellow in question was so goddamned familiar…

"San Francisco…finally!" exclaimed Professor Sydney Fox as she saw a harbor appearing in the distance, "Honestly, how you could get us that far lost in Bermuda is beyond me. Don't you even know how to work a compass?"

"Hey, I'm doing the best I can," Ryomi replied, "How's a kid my age ever going to work up enough funds to make my way home if nobody gives me the chance to practice?"

"I think it would be best for all concerned parties if you sought another line of work not concerned with navigation," noted Nigel, Sydney's long time assistant and fellow Cultural Anthropologist, "And frankly you are a little too young to be piloting an airplane."

"Hey, I've been flying since I was twelve!" Ryomi exclaimed, "I'm almost fourteen now, so you want to make something of it, Mister 'I can't fight my way out of a Shoebox?'"

"Knock it off you two or you're both walking home," Sydney reprimanded, "At least those lost Atlantean treasures we packed on board should be safe until we get them back to a museum, so the trip wasn't a total bust, even if we never did make it to Venezuela."

"Yeah, go ahead and blame me," Ryomi sulked, "At least I was useful in fighting off the natives."

"Hello, what's this?" Nigel asked as he adjusted the radio headset that he was wearing, "Ah…Sydney? I don't think that's San Francisco at which we're about to land."

"What do you mean?" his fellow Relic Hunter inquired.

"It's just that I'm picking up control tower frequencies in Japanese," Nigel turned to look at the Amerasian beauty beside him, "I think we're being hailed from Tokyo's International airport."

"TOKYO???" Sydney's almond-shaped eyes got appreciably wider, "Are you telling me that we're over the Sea of Japan??? But that's impossible!"

"I know," he replied, "Or at least not possible under a single tank of fuel. Don't ask me how, but when we left that pyramid we must have gone through some sort of dimensional vortex or time loophole, or something like that. It transported us to an entirely different location…"

"BUT EIGHT THOUSAND MILES OFF COURSE???" Sydney asked in as calm and reasonable a manner as could be expected of someone who was used to risking her life on a routine basis.

"Who cares how we got here?" Ryomi burst out in a smile of glee, "Japan! We're finally in my native country! After all these years I'M GOING HOME!!!"

Her delight was difficult to ignore, though Sydney shared another silent look with her assistant, and Nigel just shrugged his shoulders, acknowledging tacitly (and not for the first time) that there was something very unusual about their recent traveling companion, and no doubt it was one mystery well beyond even the means of a qualified Relic Hunter…

"…And in conclusion, Gentlemen," said Naomi Nakamura to her fellow board members, "The projected share increase in our stock portfolio should more than offset the cost of initial investment in the Shohan project, provided that Chairman Quincy can count on your approval of his initial proposal."

"Miss Nakamura," one of the Executives at the table asked, "Correct me if I am wrong, but this project could take as much as forty years to see final development. That's pretty long-ranged thinking, even for a Japanese conglomerate."

"As I explained in the initial briefing, sir," Naomi replied with typical patience, "This is a multi-staged project that will take many years, indeed possibly even generations to complete. It will be necessary to first build the infrastructure that will be needed in order to construct the Space Needle that will make transportation of the basic materials to a space platform almost as routine as shipping a package across town. The needle will make it possible to have low-cost transport of basic goods to our satellite facilities operating in geo-synchronous orbit from which lunar colonization will be achieved, and from there we can eventually mount the final goal of creating outposts upon the Martial landscape. Once the initial surveys have determined viability, our plans to terraform the red planet will insure that humanity has a neighboring body within this solar system that will be able to relieve projected overcrowding from the population densities of the late twenty-first century. With the unlimited resources that can be afforded through the mining of the asteroids and harvesting of the gas giants, we could be talking about a whole new renaissance for the human race that will ensure our planet's continued survival. Surely for an end this noble we can afford to look beyond the usual Five Year Mentality all too typical in this country."

"It's not the goals that we object to, Miss Nakamura," said another Executive, "But we're in the business to make money. Saving the world is a bit more than an American business can afford to be concerned with."

"It's thinking like that which has caused America to lose its edge in the exploration of space," Naomi said rather brusquely, "If we don't maintain our footing in the technological high frontier, then you can bet that the French and Chinese will be more than glad to take up the slack that we provide them! By pooling our resources with Genetics Unlimited, our United Technologies firm will create a super-sized conglomerate that will-through generous public funding between our government and the Japanese-give us a leg up well into the next century, and once we have established our foothold in space, gentlemen, I assure you that our profits will continue to skyrocket."

"I still say that it's an ambitious plan for a Junior Vice President like yourself to come up with," said yet another board member, "I don't know how you sold this wacky idea to the Chairman…"

"Chairman Quincy is a man of integrity and vision, which is more than I can say for some of you," Naomi soured the faces at the table with her usual sharp-edged gaze and said, "May I take it that the Board gives tentative approval to this proposal? If not, then please explain your reasoning on the record and I will be happy to take the matter up with Chairman Quincy."

The board members grumbled slightly but exchanged nervous looks with one another, and none of them had the courage to speak out against the outline they had just heard recited. Quite apart from Naomi's legendary reputation as a board room shark, there was the even greater threat of Chairman Quincy's displeasure hanging over their head like a Sword of Damocles, just waiting to drop. There wasn't a man or woman at that board with a big enough parachute to ride out the sort of wrath that might be visited upon them, and so they reluctantly agreed to forward initial funding of the ambitious proposal.

Naomi smiled once the Board had been dismissed and she could return to her own office, which was just down the hall and clearly marked for her benefit. Even granted that she carried a sensitive direction finder upon her wrist, it was still a nerve wracking operation for her to travel a mere one hundred feet, stopping only once to use the privy. Not many people were aware of her little "problem" (Chairman Quincy was one of the select few who knew about the curious quirk in her makeup), and Naomi had gone to great lengths to make certain that one no else knew that the "Shark" was actually a fish out of water.

She was nearly thirty years old, at the top of her class and had degrees in Physics and Engineering in addition to being a qualified CPA with an IQ rating of at least one hundred and forty. Though adopted, she was quite happy with her family, which included a little girl around six years of age, the product of her one and only attempt at being married. She had a brilliant and incisive mind that had brought her to the attention of a young industrialist by the name of Quincy Rosencroix, who had spotted her obvious talents and cultivated her to head one of his more prestigious offices in the San Francisco region. If only she weren't surrounded by such obvious Luddites and half-witted business flunkies without the collective imagination of a roach she might actually be able to accomplish something. As it was she had to fight for even the simplest proposal!

Of course she would lose considerable prestige with such a crowd if they knew the one truth that had made her life a living hell…her little problem owing to a minor lack of any sense of directions…

Entering her office she turned to one corner separated from her desk and regarded the punching bag that she kept on hand for "stress relief," she same needed constant replacing. Just thinking about some of the things that had been said to her made her blood boil, and her legendary temper came to the fore. Walking up to the bag, she drew back her hand and visualized the face of one of the more obnoxious individuals in question and threw her fist forward with the full power of her strength and anger. To no surprise the bag burst like a popped balloon, being much to flimsy to withstand the force of her anger.

But at least a bag wouldn't sue her on behalf of next of kin, so it was safer to simply requisition a new bag instead of take it out with the real toad in question…

A chiming sound from her desk drew her attention, and without moving from where she was standing she said, "What is it, Marguerite? I'm a bit busy…"

"Excuse me, Miss Nakamura, but you wanted to be reminded when the Chairman wanted to speak with you. Shall I put him through?"

"Of course," Naomi replied, doing her level best to compose herself and rein in her legendary temper.

"Good morning to you, Naomi," said the voice of Chairman Quincy Rosencroix, "I trust all went well and that you gained the approval of the board for our little proposal?"

"They agreed to authorize initial funding on the project, sir," Naomi responded, "There was some resistance, as expected, but they fell in line, just as you predicted."

"It is sometimes necessary to abide with those who may be slower of wit than yourself, Naomi," the chairman reminded, "Be certain you do not display your contempt too openly…at least not until such time as we may replace those slow of wit with more agile minded executives, at which time the project will gain momentum."

"It will be as you say, sir," Naomi replied, "The project will go ahead as planned and on schedule, and I will find a way to deal with those who might attempt to slow our progress."

"Good," Quincy replied, "But that is for the future. Right now I have a more immediate assignment that I wish you to fulfill for me. I trust that I will have your full support in this endeavor?"

"Of course," Naomi replied, "I have always been loyal to you sir. What is it you have in mind?"

"How is your Japanese these days?" the man sounded faintly amused, knowing that she had been originally born in Japan but had spent most of her life in her adopted country.

"I'm told my accent is noticeable," Naomi replied, "But I have been improving the more we have entered into negotiations with our Japanese outlets."

"That is good," Quincy replied, "The Shohan project will have its roots in Japan once the timetable is established. Unfortunately we are having some difficulty in scouting out the real estate area most ideal to our purposes. I wish for you to look into this and make final recommendations so that we can secure long term leases to the property in question."

"I see," Naomi replied, "When would you like for me to depart?"

"Tomorrow will be sufficient time for you to make personal preparations for departure," Quincy replied, "I have taken the liberty of booking flights for you and your daughter. You will be using the company Leer jet and should be on the Home Islands by this time tomorrow."

"I-I see sir," Naomi murmured as she thought that one over, "So you intend my stay to be a lengthy one?"

"A few months should be sufficient," Quincy replied, "You should be able to improve your Japanese when this is over. Now that you have gotten the cooperation of the Board, I will temporarily assign Vasquez to overseeing the initial planning stages."

"He is a good man," Naomi said, "I trained him myself, but…this is my project and I would prefer to see it through from its earliest phases."

"You will have full oversight and approval of all the major aspects of the project," Quincy assured, "But day-to-day operations will be handled by Vasquez. This is my decision."

Naomi bowed her head and said, "As you wish it, sir. I will handle this new project, which I take it to be the Tokyo district that I recommended?"

"Actually I hoping to have you review a secondary site that is under our consideration," the Chairman replied, "A residential area in the Nerima district that may be under consideration for employee housing for one of our research facilities."

"Nerima?" Naomi repeated, wondering why the name alone gave her an odd sense of foreboding, a feeling she was quick to dismiss as she was not superstitious by nature.

"I will make all the details available to you when you arrive at your new offices," Quincy concluded, "Until then have a safe journey."

"Y-Yes sir," Naomi said as she turned and studied the ruptured bag before adding, "Maybe I'll even brush up on my martial arts…I've heard there are some pretty good fighters in the Tokyo area."

"A great stress relief I am certain," the Chairman said before breaking off the connection.

"Yes," Naomi said as she studied the back of her hand, which bore the faint scars of intensive training, "Stress relief is good."

The shark was about to arrive in Nerima…

Kennou awoke from a strange series of dreams to the sound of a flute playing somewhere in the background. She blinked her eyes and tried to move, only to find that her hands and feet would not respond, and with a start she realized that she had been bound by ropes while unconscious.

"Are you sure it's necessary to leave her that way?" a voice was saying just out of her immediate line of sight.

"You saw what she could do with your own eyes, Akane," an older voice said in reply, "Believe me, tying her up like that is merciful compared to what I'd usually do to somebody who hurt my Ryoga."

"But if she's related to us, then it seems pretty harsh, Mother," Ryoga said, "We don't want her to be a permanent enemy, we just want her to listen to our side of things before she tries to attack Ranma."

"Looking out for your brother, Son?" Genma asked, "That shows good character."

"Hey, I don't need him to look out for me!" another male voice protested, "I can handle myself, I don't need anybody!"

"So you say, Airen," a girl's voice said, sounding distinctly foreign, "But Shampoo say you full of hot air. She know Chi attack, she dangerous to Airen."

Kennou had, by now, placed most of the speakers from her prior experience to names and faces she had already encountered and was forming a basic understanding of the terms of her captivity. Sensing that they did not intend her immediate harm she decided to bide her time until she could effect her escape. By the sound of things it would not be an easy matter, that Atsuko in particular had proved to be a dangerous customer, one capable of near-invisibility, in addition to which she had the strength of a Hibiki.

The curious flute sounded oddly plaintive and melodious, summoning images in the mind of a home life lost and all but forgotten, bittersweet and yet so fondly remembered. Kennou's mind briefly filled with thoughts of her mother, the tender memories of a youth spent in happiness and innocence. It was a rare memory long buried, and the brief whiff of nostalgia it created gave Kennou an intense longing to relive more such treasured moments of a time before she had become a wandering orphan…

Kennou frowned, forcibly shaking off the effects of the music, and angered at having such memories dredged up in her in the first place. How dare they make her feel that way again after so many hard years of keeping them tightly suppressed? Her anger made her tense against her ropes, and as she felt them constrict against her wrists and ankles the feeling of helplessness that they created made her want to scream in protest.

"Ah, you're awake at last," Kennou heard Atsuko remark, and with a guilty start she looked up to see the brown haired woman leaning over her. Obviously Kennou had betrayed herself by that last futile gesture, a fact for which she chided herself as she could have continued to play dead and obtained more useful information.

"Are you all right?" asked the boy whom she had fought mere hours ago, yet who was looking upon her with concern that did not seem feigned, not that Kennou seriously believed that he could be worried over her welfare.

"I'm fine," Kennou growled as she swept her eyes across all the faces that she could see from her position, "Where am I?"

"In my family's dojo," replied the dark haired girl of before, "We brought you here to talk, so could you please refrain from forcing us to hurt you?"

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," Kennou glared in fierce defiance, "But I'm still not talking."

"You don't have to say a word," Atsuko replied, "We already know about your involvement with Gosunkuji, and that a fellow named Daidoji was one of those who were paying you to beat up Ranma."

"Yeah, like she could do that," the boy who had been a redheaded girl replied with a note of extreme skepticism.

"Sounds like you got the short list," Kennou replied, "And what makes you think a little rope is going to hold me?"

"Oh, these ropes will hold you all right," Atsuko assured, "But I can remove them if you agree to cooperate. I'm a little curious to know more about you…starting with the name of your mother."

"And why should I tell you anything?" Kennou asked in a level tone of voice.

"Now then," Atsuko smiled benevolently, "Is that any way to talk to your older sister?"

There was a long pause in which Kennou stared up at the other woman, and then she said, "Prove it."

"Love to," Atsuko replied, "But I'm just playing a hunch, and without much to go on that's all I've got to work with. I'm trying to contact my dad to find out for sure if he married another woman besides my momma, seeing as you have the family name, along with our other distinguishing feature. Whoever your Mom was, though, she must have been an ordinary human…and I'm guessing she's either dead or no longer a going concern in your life, am I right?"

Kennou said nothing, but she continued to stare up at the woman claiming to be a fellow Hibiki.

"Let me see if I know how it is," Atsuko resumed, "All your life you've felt that you were different from other kids your age…stronger for one thing, and with a crummy sense of direction. One day you found yourself without parents to look after you, so you improvised and made your way in the world. You used your talents to get by, learned to do a few odd tricks on the sly, and picked up the martial arts as a matter of survival. You've been to a lot of places but none of them feel like home, and you've learned to wall off your feelings 'cause it's easier than making friendships. Of course you're also wearing a school uniform that's obviously seen better days, so at one time you were enrolled as a student in a high school somewhere in the Tokyo area…am I right so far?"

"Maybe," Kennou answered.

"How long has it been for you, kid?" Atsuko asked, and not without a sincere not of compassion, "How long ago did you find yourself alone? That's a pretty big chip you've got on your shoulder, so I'm guessing you've been in and out of the foster care system, right? Maybe even you were in an orphanage but didn't like it."

"So what?"

"So," Atsuko smiled, "What would the odds be that I could find out from your uniform which school you belonged to and get ahold of somebody there who could look up your records? I could find out everything I needed to know in just a few hours if I tell them we're related."

"Without proof?" Kennou asked with more reluctance in her voice.

"I can be very…persuasive if I have to be," Atsuko revealed her fangs as she smiled, "One way or another I'm going to find out what I need to know. I just hoped you'd be more cooperative, but I can see you think that you're a pretty tough cookie."

"I manage," Kennou replied, but she had the strong sense that the woman hovering above her was not bluffing. There was something purposeful and deadly about this Atsuko woman that implied that she was used to getting her own way, and that standing up to her was not a safe proposition.

"You can drop the tough act," said a woman whom Kennou barely remembered from the other day, the one who held the silver flute that was no longer playing music, "I've already obtained the information that I was seeking, and you are right, Atsuko-san…she definitely is your blood sister."

"I knew it!" Atsuko declared with a look of triumph, "So who was her mother?"

"My inquiries came up with a name," Silk turned to regard Kennou frankly, "Kaoru Nakajima, daughter of a leading industrialist who married an American woman named Tandy. Kaoru was rescued from some troublesome situation that I believe involved her being kidnapped when a wandering hero arrived to save the day, a fellow who put the fear of the kami into the kidnappers and ended their evil ways yet refused to claim a reward for his heroic efforts."

"That sounds like dad all right," Atsuko noted, "He always did have a real knack for walking into things without looking, not that he ever left them standing when he was finished."

"Naturally the girl was quite taken with her handsome savior, and against the wishes of her parents she proceeded to date him," Silk resumed, "Just after she graduated from high school she took to joining him in his wanderings but eventually returned to Japan to settle down and raise their daughter. The father wandered in and out of her life several times after this but eventually turned up missing while young Kennou here was still an infant. Sadly the mother perished a few years later from a wasting illness and since her family had disowned her, she wound up a ward of the state…that is until her maternal grandfather learned of her existence and attempted to adopt her."

"Adopt her?" Akane asked.

"She grew up for a time in the home of her grandfather," Silk continued, "But in time she began to feel stifled by the restrictions that he placed upon her movements. One day she got in trouble with the law, and rather than return home to face the music she ran away from home and has been running away ever since, keeping a low profile while avoiding all attempts by her grandfather to contact her…"

"HOW COULD YOU…?" Kennou blurted out, then chided herself for thoughtlessly confirming the information.

"Young lady," Silk said simply, "It is my duty to know these things, such as that you are not quite as hard of heart as you try to pretend. What happened to you at that private girl's school of yours is none of our concern, but if you do not choose to cooperate in these affairs then we will have no choice at all but to contact your grandfather. For now I trust that we can avoid that?"

Kennou glared at the woman, but there was no avoiding the fact that she was in a very unfortunate situation.

"By the way," Silk asked, "Did you have any luck getting ahold of my dad?"

"I discovered that he is alive but very far away from here," Silk revealed, "So I altered my divination spell to one of summoning, hoping to draw him here by the invisible currents of destiny, which links him to you and this young lady."

"A summoning spell?" Kennou asked skeptically, "You telling me you can work magic?"

"Not precisely work magic," Silk replied, "More like bend to the call and petition the fates to think kindly upon the possibility of a family reunion. By now the spell will be drawing Hibiki Razor to Nerima by arranging a fortuitous string of seeming coincidences whose net result will be his arrival within a fortnight. Now all that is needed is for us to wait and be patient. In due time you both will see your wayward father."

"My dad's alive?" Kennou was caught between her native skepticism and the suddenly swell of a need that she had never before recalled experiencing. She had given up all hope so long ago…could it really be possible that she might see the man whom she only remembered as looming so large and impressively over her, a man who had vanished from her world without a word of explanation.

"Alive and soon to be here," Silk affirmed, "Now…if you will excuse me, I'm a bit weary from all these exertions. I'll be in the kitchen helping Kasumi prepare dinner. I take it we can count on you staying the night if you promise to behave, young lady?"

"Promise?" Kennou tasted the unfamiliar word, but managed a faint smile, "Sure…I'll promise anything…if you promise to untie me."

"Hah," Atsuko scoffed, "I trust you about as far as I could throw this whole dojo, but I guess it'll be all right to let you up." She waved a hand in the air and added, "Try moving now, Blondie."

To Kennou's surprise she found that she could move her wrists and ankles again, and she wasted no time in sitting upright.

"Nice trick," Ranma noted, trying not to sound impressed.

"No problem," the Oni woman responded, "Since she was never even tied to begin with."

"SAY WHAT???" Kennou reacted in dismay, staring at her wrists and noting the absence of any rope burns.

"The power of suggestion, combined with my illusions, can be pretty damned effective, huh?" Atsuko grinned, then added, "Shirokuro…keep an eye on her guest. If she tries to leave without permission, then make sure she's uncomfortable."

"It will be as you say, Mistress," replied a strange looking woman who appeared from seemingly nowhere, her hair white on one side, black on the other. Just looking upon her, Kennou was uncomfortably reminded of the similarly colored canine.

As Ryoga watched the Lore Master returning to the house he asked in a somewhat anxious voice, "Do you really think that she can summon up my grandfather?"

"Oh sure," Atsuko replied, "They don't make Lore Masters out of complete dummies. I knew Silk back when she was just another fighter, but she seems to have gotten the basics down pretty good of following her grandmother's footsteps…only…"

"Only?" Akane repeated.

"Well…" Atsuko rubbed the back of her head and gave a nervous chuckle, "There's something about her that reminds me of this old foreign cartoon I used to watch when Ryo-chan was just old enough to bounce on my knee. It was about this Moose and a Squirrel, and the Mouse was always trying to work magic, only he tended to screw things up by overdoing it. That's what Silk reminds me of these days…somebody who's basically sincere, but she doesn't seem to know her own strength."

"Sounds like someone else I could mention," Ranma grumbled as he stood back with the purple haired girl giving Kennou a wary look of appraisal.

Kennou frowned as she studied her target and wondered if she would still get the chance to confront the Saotome boy, if only to test herself against him. As she started to get up, however, a soft growl at her side caused her to start in dismay, for somehow the black-and-white hound had managed to sneak up behind her. Kennou hastily rethought the wisdom of making any hasty movements, seeing wicked fangs bared with yellow eyes glaring at her as if daring her to try something. There was no sense in tempting fate, so she resolved to bide her time and see what else she could learn before deciding what her next move would be.

At the very least she might cop a free meal out of the deal, and it was certainly a lot more interesting than returning to a barren hotel room and a bowl of cold Ramen. Just the possibility that she might learn something useful about the man who had given her life made her decide to tarry further, and NOT-she most sternly thought to herself-because there was any implied threats being made against her.

Again she thought of her father being alive and wondered what exactly she should feel at that revelation…surprised, relieved, or angry? Times were that her life had been so hard that she had cursed her own existence, and even cursed the memory of her parents. Would she hug him or kill him when they at long last met? For that she had no answer! All she knew was that life had just gotten a lot more interesting of a sudden, and whatever the consequences of her involvement here, it certainly beat the hell out of moping around with hopeless thoughts of her Hiroshi…

Her Hiroshi, that is, if a certain damned wind-up Doll wasn't standing between her and her peculiar love interest…

Nabiki's Journal Resumes:

"An Angel…my sister?" I asked.

"Well, why not?" Lotion replied, "You certainly feel that way about Kasumi."

"Yeah, but Akane?" I shook my head, "I'd never associate her with Sainthood."

"Shows how much you know about Saints and Angels," the old woman regarded me with a faint smile, "Their reputations, like those of the kami themselves, are not all that they might seem to be upon the surface."

I thought back to our recent experiences at the Morisato Shrine and had to admit that meeting an enclave of self-described goddesses has not exactly conformed to my expectations regarding the living embodiments of my Shinto heritage and family religion. I know I'm not the most religious person in our family, and the beings we encountered were certainly enormously powerful, but still…I would have expected something…grander.

"If they're really so much like us deep down," I said aloud, "That what exactly does that say about the make up of the universe?"

"The universe gets along very fine whether we personify it in human terms or not," Lotion revealed, "The kami are principally concerned with the affairs of mortal men and women, as rightly they should be as personifications of the elemental forces of our nature. The three sisters, for example, are the goddesses of Fate in a highly limited aspect. They don't personally oversee the daily workings of our lives, but they administrate the systems that do attend to those small details of our existence."

"I don't get it, though," I said, "All these references to technology and some great computer that oversees everything…"

"It must seem to take some of the magic and mystery out of the whole picture, is that what you are about to say?" she smiled at me as if she did not in fact know that I was going to say exactly that to the letter, "Ask yourself this…what is your mental image of a supreme power that governs over everything and all of creation?"

I tried to imagine what it was that I ultimately believe in, but I confess that my materialistic nature clashed with my desire to see gods in terms of something Omnipresent. As was becoming my usual practice around Lotion I said what came first into mind, "I guess someone or something that knew and controlled everything everywhere simultaneously, past, present and future, would be the obvious answer…only that doesn't seem right somehow. I'm not sure I even know what a being that powerful would be like…"

"Indeed you should wonder," the old woman agreed, "Because a mind that could be so all encompassing and all reaching could not possibly be related to on a human level. Such a mind would be alien to all we know and hold dear from a conscious level as mortal beings of flesh and bone. A mind that could fathom the farthest depths and reaches of Creation could hardly be expected to know us on a personal level, as some religions would have you believe."

"So is there, in fact, a Supreme Being who governs everything?" I asked.

"There is certainly something that governs everything at the core to our reality," Lotion replied, "But I can tell you for a fact that it is not the being known as kami-Sama."

"Come again?" I blinked, "You saying there is a Supreme Being…but there isn't"

"Kami-sama, child, is the local equivalent to the Sky Father who predominates in many world religions," she explained patiently without sounding the least bit condescending, "In China they call the Lord of Heaven Shang-Ti, and he rules the pantheon that even now is in the hearts and minds of a great many mainlanders, despite the efforts of the government to suppress the old religions. We Amazons have our own Celestial Mother of the Stars, who is in some part a blend between the Grecian Goddesses Artemis, Athena and Demeter. In fact every culture in the world has their own Supreme Deity at the head of a pantheon, like the Seraphim. Each religion insists that their god or goddess is supreme above all others, and of course each one would insist that they are right…but what they do not realize is that they are effectively giving homage to local variations on the same concept. In the end all religions say pretty much the same basic thing at the core, and all are as equally right as they are mistaken to believe that their views should prevail over one another."

I scratched my head and tried to think of that one, and finally I said, "So no one's right, but everyone is right after a fashion?"

"Understand that these gods are primal manifestations of elemental power, and most embody the collective beliefs of their worshippers and embody their highest personal aspirations," she explained by way of her lecture, "Religion itself is about the ultimate concerns of people as either individuals or as groups of like-minded individuals. It's rather like belonging to a political party in which your leader is God and the leaders of rival parties are naturally seen as devils. It is the total commitment of the true believers that keeps them from seeing the truth…that they are only imagining a very limited aspect of the universal consciousness that they are hoping to achieve."

"Okay," I said, "Local versions of the same thing…so is Kami-sama just Shang-Ti by a different label?"

"Not at all," Lotion replied, "They are two very different beings who just happen to fulfill the same office. Shang-Ti is the Kami-sama of the traditional Chinese, but the two are not one in the same person, any more than Yahweh is Allah, or even Jesus for that matter."

"So…you're saying one guy doesn't rule over all?"

"Pantheons govern the localized region that they have their traditional roots set," she explained, "As long as no one pantheon conflicts with another there is hardly any disturbance. But you have sectarian religious wars-by far the most destructive type of human altercation-then rival ideals will be magnified and the clash is more dramatic. That is why it is never a good idea to mix incompatible systems of belief, especially when it comes to summoning magic. When dealing with the heads of rival pantheons the clash of egos is far greater than what you experience when two absolute sovereigns collide with one another."

"So…Kami-sama is only the big honcho for us poor Japanese, eh?" I asked.

"Precisely so," she gave me a shrewd look as she added, "After all, would you trust one all-powerful tyrant to adequately supervise an entire cosmos? Frankly I like living with a plurality…the competition keeps them honest."

"I guess China and Japan have that much in common," I thought, referring back to Ranma's favorite subject of history, which is rife in our culture with Shoguns and Daimyos who effectively wielded absolute power.

"I think the problem is that too many people substitute wishful thinking with an honest appraisal of their own belief systems," Lotion smiled at me as she added, "It never occurs to most people that the ideal of an all powerful god is not compatible with an entirely benevolent and all-good being. In order to be all powerful a god would have to be in control of floods and fires that sometimes destroy the land and livelihood of people. An earthquake, typhoon, hurricane, or other natural occurring disaster is referred to as the 'Wrath of God,' but how could an all-powerful being be wrathful? Why would an all-good god punish the weak and the helpless for living beside the godless? There is much excuse making by those of a scholarly bent to cover up for this obvious confusion, but the best that they can come up with is the notion that there are larger issues involved that obligate an all-good god to sometimes destroy necessarily undeserving people."

"I've got to admit, that one's always had me scratching my head," I noted, "So a god who controls the wind and the weather can't be all that concerned that we fragile mortals sometimes happen to get in the way of the weather?"

"If you build a house upon a sloping hill and you get caught in a landslide, whose fault would that be?" she reasoned, "There are limits to how far you can go to avoid courting disaster, but many people the world over insist on building their houses on very shaky foundations. The best that mere mortals can do is to bend with the seasons and pray that they will not wind up as statistics of the weather."

"So does anybody control all that stuff?" I asked.

"Indeed there is," Lotion replied, "But it's a different department in the Celestial bureaucracy than Human Relations. Sometimes the earth must shake and the winds must blow, and that is the price of living in a world that is far from ideal but is the reality that governs our existence."

"Ideal…like in Heaven?" I asked.

"Heaven is an ideal," Lotion said, "But it is nothing like this world. In the land of the spirit it is belief and will that presides over substance, but even there you would find sacrifices being made. If you stand too near to the source of all light you can often get burned, so as powerful as the kami may be, they often operate under greater restrictions than we mere mortals."

"I heard Belldandy say something about a contract," I frowned, "And Peorth…said that she had no choice about returning to Heaven…" I could not quite keep my bitterness from showing.

"She is bound to the boy by a promise," Lotion replied, "Just as the promise Peorth made to your mother bound her to the mortal world for the time that she lived among you. There was very little choice involved for either, but in both cases I believe a great deal of willing cooperation could be detected."

"I wonder…" I hesitated, then forced myself to plunge ahead, "Is her being bonded to my mother for a time the reason I have this Lore Master power…?"

"No," Lotion said, "You inherited that potential from your mother, but likely it would have remained dormant throughout your life had it not been briefly awakened by the goddess. Peorth sealed away your knowledge of the power for almost a decade, but the glimpse that you had gained into the universal power that is your birthright no doubt influenced your development and propelled your interest in becoming the master of your own life. The seals had faded by the time that I first encountered you, and through my training you have slowly reawakened the power that is within you, and one day it will become a fire that guides you through the darkest of shadows. However the real influence of Peorth was felt more intensely by your younger sister, Akane."

"Akane," I said, remembering the original subject of our conversation, "What's this again about her being an angel?"

"Most angels are the emissaries of divine presence who attend to goddesses like lesser acolytes but have no real free will, being merely manifestations of their conscious projection," Lotion explained, "There are a few angels who rise to a higher calling and become lesser manifestations of the gods themselves, and a few of these become Elemental Lords who can be invoked when needed. The thing to keep in mind is that they are not entirely benevolent and are often creature of wild passion or purposeful nature. And then there are the spirits of the departed, who have the status of lesser angels."

"You mean like ancestor spirits and the like?" I asked.

"Indeed," she said, "The dead often walk side-by-side with the living but are rarely seen by us. They differ from true angels in that they freely come and go as they will, not subject to the direct control of the kami themselves. In time they reincarnate in physical bodies and renew the cycle of karma, unless they are of such a degraded nature that their souls do not rise to a higher level."

"Reincarnation, right," I said, "So do these lesser souls wind up coming back as snails and roaches?"

"Like begets like, Child," she corrected, "Human beings do not become snails, not without having to retrograde backwards through several layers of the evolutionary chart. Only devout Hindus believe otherwise, and many of them believe that a cow is their reincarnated ancestor."

"So what does this have to do with Akane being an angel?" I wondered.

"Your sister was born through the direct intervention of a Goddess First Class, Unlimited Potential," the old woman replied, "Akane was born a mortal with a spark of the divine hidden within her. It is a potential that many unconsciously perceive and are drawn to, such as her horde of randy admirers who never seemed very much to mind being pummeled into a black and blue haze at her dainty little hands. She has always had more raw power than the essential balance that is required to properly make use of her potential. I effect she tries too hard to achieve normalcy, but even the most charitable person much concede that she is not a 'normal' person."

"You're telling me this?" I asked, though it was revealing to discover that there actually was a reason for my sister's strange aura of charisma and near-superhuman physical prowess. There were many who would argue that Akane was a "goddess" by their light, Kuno not being the least of them (in a past sense anyway), and for once I had actual confirmation.

"It was the Jusenkyo water that triggered the initial awakening of her dormant potential," Lotion continued, "First the Yaazuniichuan, which turned her into a duck, and then the Nyaniichuan water added to this, shaping the nature of her curse so that she took on the physical aspect of an angel."

"But is the transformation only physical?" I asked.

"I believe it goes all of the way," she replied, "Which is why I brought it to the attention of the goddess."

"Oboy…" I groaned, "Bottom line what are we looking at here?"

"Possibly nothing major," Lotion revealed, "She only reverts to her angel aspect with the application of cold water, but even in human form she carries the spark of her divinity within her. If the power remains dormant and does not further evolve, then there should be no real problem. If, however, the power is further awakened…well…angels have often been known throughout the ages to be the heralds of calamity. There is a remote possibility that your sister could become a danger to herself and those around her."

I immediately thought of Ranma and his tendency to often tease and sometimes provoke Akane to anger, and then the recent tug-of-war for her affections being waged between Ukyo and Ryoga…and I began to see a definite problem.

"Uh oh," I said aloud, trying to imagine some of the implications.

"Precisely," the old woman replied, "Well, we're here again, back at your home and just in time for dinner."

I looked up to see the gates to my family dojo and absently reflected that we had been walking together for a considerable time, but certainly nothing like the fifty kilometers or so that separated us from the Morisato place. Only Lotion could make the crossing of a distance like that seem like a leisurely stroll through the park, but we had covered a lot of subject matter in that interval, and she had given me a great deal to think about, so I wasn't about to begrudge our little pep-talk.

Inside the yard I sensed a new tension that got me to worrying even before we made our way to the family living quarters. The thing that struck me right away was the extra mouth sitting at the table between Ryoga and his mother, the blonde haired girl who had issued a challenge to Ranma early on that very day. I lifted an eyebrow to this but refrained from making commentary.

As usual, Silk, Kasumi, and Kodachi had prepared a meal that could sate the bottomless gullet of Uncle Genma, but I noticed the absence of the panda with a certain crestfallen deflation. Also missing from my sides at our usual spot around the table were Ranma and Shampoo. I was told that they had stopped in earlier but had to leave, Shampoo giving a lift to our iinazuke.

I briefly pitied my poor boyfriend for having to suffer our Amazon bride's conception of "safe" driving and yet wistfully wished that they had at least waited around for me to return, if only so I could see them again for another hour. Having them be away like this was torture, the like of which I wouldn't wish upon a Kuno, and after only touching my food I asked to be excused and returned to my room, even as Lotion did her usual fade-away and no doubt returned to the Nekohaten.

As I flopped down on my bed I considered writing down my thoughts and impressions, but I was too tired in mind and body to work up the effort. Instead I drifted in and out of a brief haze in which I replayed my memories of the goddesses living in a temple among mortals, only to have my thoughts disturbed at the sound of a faint tapping upon my window.

I was out of bed and on my feet like a shot, and sure enough, there was Ranma hanging upside down by his ankles. I ran to the window and opened it without thinking, and soon enough we sat side-by-side in our usual place on the roof beneath the stars, my arm around his shoulder as I rested my head against my iinazuke.

We didn't say much for the first half-hour, but finally Ranma opened up to me and told me a little about his feelings. Being back with his mother was a strange experience, especially living in a house that was so unfamiliar to him, and he'd decided that had to see me again, if only to have someone with whom to share his loneliness. We hadn't been apart for even half a day and already we were missing one another, and I seriously doubted that we could survive the next two weeks until the official date of our wedding.

He of course told me all about the Hibiki woman and what she was doing in our place, and the thought that a hired gun like that would be aiming for his hide was enough to make me feel like going on the warpath. After sharing the details of Atsuko's arrangement, however, I was inclined to take a more cautious "wait and see" approach, even if Ranma reluctantly revealed that the girl had a dangerous ki attack that raised her above the level of the average fighter.

Ranma asked me what I had been up to, but as I wasn't sure exactly how to share my experiences with the goddesses I only told him that Lotion was showing me around to some interesting places, and being the sort of guy that he is, Ranma didn't press me for details. I think the whole Lore Master business puts him off in a way, and I guess he feels the less he has to know about it the better.

He had to leave before too long. He had accompanied Shampoo back to the Nekohaten, but he had a promise to fulfill to his mother, so he left to try and make it back home before his mother started sharpening her katana. We promised to meet again clandestinely, but I'd be lying to say that I was not disappointed that fooling around wasn't in our immediate agenda. It's odd having an itch to scratch that you only became aware of about a month ago, but which now you can't imagine living without it (though I'll be the first one to admit that bedroom gymnastics without Shampoo in the middle would seem like a tame affair. She's the real dynamic one who keeps things lively, the both of us are just padding to catch up, but the both of us are proving to be very adept students in this particular arena).

To relieve boredom I got on the computer and just penned the whole affair so I'd have a physical record to document my experiences. How else am I to make sense of what all was revealed to me today, especially in light to the discovery that my mother literally was divine, and not just because she was my mother.

I don't really know what my feelings are concerning this Peorth character, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm about to find out. Somebody like that doesn't just pop into your life and do a fast fade out, and with my kind of luck I can expect that this heralds a whole new chapter in my already strange existence.

The bit with Akane is another going concern, but I suppose that one will sort itself out eventually, assuming that we survive her sudden transfiguration. The business with the Hibikis is warming up and who knows what will come of that affair, especially if Silk is successful in summoning up this larger-than-life character that we've heard so much about, Razor. Then of course there's the subject of my "bridal training," which begins sometime tomorrow-oh joy! Kasumi and Silk have made it plain that they intend to give me the crash course in the basics, and I mean-seriously-can you see me as the blushing domestic sort? I'd lay thirty to one odds that before the two weeks are up I'm going to be climbing the walls at this double-motherly treatment!

And to think most kids my age just have to worry about boning up for their test finals, or working on their entry exams to insure their admittance to a higher level of education. I wonder what life would be like if everything wasn't so very complicated, but I suppose I'll never find out…and in all honesty would I really want to go back to being relatively "normal?"

I don't think so, but there are days when I get enormously tempted…

Continued

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