Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Going ... going ... gone! ( Chapter 16 )

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!

I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi, Yuso Takada, Masaki Kajishima, Naoko Takeuchi, Yoshiyuki Sadamoto, Ikuko Shimizu or owned by Headgear.

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Ukyo looked up from where she was setting up her okonomiyaki cart in the park across the street from the slave processing and auction house as another cavalcade of limos (a smaller one this time, only three) came down the street and swung through the gate, past the contingent of police flanking it on each side, into the private debarking area. Another vulture coming to feed on Ranma's misery, she thought as she unconsciously growled. Transferring her gaze to the police (a much heavier police presence than normal, some with different uniforms), she added, And their lackeys, there to protect them while they compete for the feast.

Then her eyes rose to the display screen on the side of the building, one story tall, where images of the slaves up for auction and the bids offered for them would appear once the auction started, then looked around at the crowds already gathering. Except for the small group of protestors waving signs condemning sex slavery (mostly Christian, most likely) that always gathered whenever a full use slave was on the block, everyone else would be here for entertainment or to make money — the bookies, of course, taking last minute bets; but also her and her fellow vendors there to feed the crowd. Are you any better? she thought, her eyes dropping back to her cart as she flushed with shame.

But the self-flagellation didn't last long — the truth was that even without the food cart to run she would have been here this day, to share it as much as she could with the man she loved. And since she was going to be here anyway, she wasn't doing so well that she could ignore an opportunity to bring in the kind of income the auctions involving full use slaves brought in. Still, the bad taste in her mouth had nothing to do with the odors wafting from the less competent among her fellow food vendors setting up around her.

* * * * *

Setsuna smiled tightly as she swung her legs out of the limousine, accepting a helping hand from one of her longtime retainers masquerading as hired ronin. (A necessary if threadbare deception — by law only lords and daimyos could have family retainers, sworn to service by oath.) Looking around the open park-like area outside the private entrance to the slave auction, the emerald-haired woman nodded to herself at the sight of the various armed bands of retainers carefully segregated from each other, a number of police officers in non-Neriman uniforms patrolling the empty spaces between them with apparent nonchalance.

A normally perky short-haired redheaded policewoman bounced over to the renowned fashion designer, though her usual gamine smile was absent. “Good day, Setsuna-san, I'm surprised to see you here,” she said, and Setsuna carefully hid a wince at the gleam of awakening hope she thought she saw in the policewoman's eyes.

“Good day, Noa-san. And yes, well, an opportunity to obtain the services of as renowned a martial artist as `Ranko' don't come every day,” Setsuna replied wryly. Then, looking over the armed camp the outdoor waiting area had turned into (or rather, camps), she thoughtfully added, “Though that opportunity might turn out to be somewhat illusory, considering some of the liveries I'm seeing out there. And considering current feuds, I'm a little surprised this isn't ground zero for a shooting war right now. Now, what are you people doing here?”

“Oh, no need to worry about that so long as Captain Goto's on the job,” Noa said with a confident smile, turning to also look over the armed camps. “Sure, they could swamp us if they wanted, but none of them want the good captain on their case afterward. Things will be fine.” Then, smile dying, she added, “And we're here because we owe Ranma big time, so Captain Goto volunteered our services for added security. Captain Kasai was very happy to accept the offer.”

“Interesting,” Setsuna said as she turned toward the auction room entrance, then paused. “Things look as fine in here as you say, but you might want to give some thought to the crowd out front. `Ranko' is a popular person in Nerima. The usual limit of two bodyguards inside the auction, I assume?”

“Yeah, sure,” the suddenly thoughtful redhead agreed.

Setsuna turned to her unofficial retainers. “Genpaku-san, Motoyuki-san, you're with me. The rest of you, behave yourselves while you wait. I'm sure refreshments will be provided.”

“Of course, Setsuna-sama,” the guards chorused, two slight, nondescript apparently unarmed men stepping over to join her.

“Yeah, refreshments will be right over,” Noa absentmindedly agreed. “Excuse me, I need to talk to Captain Goto.” The policewoman bounded away, and Setsuna and her chosen guards headed toward the entrance to the auction.

* * * * *

“Is it time yet?”

Nabiki looked up from her computer monitor at Akane standing in her bedroom doorway, carefully hiding a grimace at the interruption. She'd never liked being bothered when she was in her room, and especially on the network, and usually her response to the question would have been devastating.

Not this time, it would be too much like kicking a puppy. Akane had not been happy when she woke up the previous day to find Ranma already gone, though she'd accepted Kasumi's explanation ... eventually ... that Ranma had thought she didn't need a memory of her love walking away between two thugs. Still, the rest of the day had been tense, this morning hadn't been any better as they'd gotten closer and closer to the start of the auction, and the only reason Akane had gotten any real sleep at all the night before was because, after her nightmare woke her up (along with the rest of the house), Kasumi had insisted she spend the rest of the night with her.

For that matter, Nabiki wasn't really in the mood for cutting remarks, either.

“No, not quite yet,” Nabiki replied quietly. “But almost — the pictures and statistics of the slaves for sale and the names of the registered bidders have just come up.” Along with the odds on which bidder will purchase which slave, and for how much, along with the pictures, she carefully didn't add.

Nabiki's attempt at delicacy was wasted — Akane's face tightened, but she simply nodded. “I'll get Kasumi. Are you still sure Genma and Auntie Nodoka shouldn't know about this?”

“Absolutely,” Nabiki replied firmly. “The big screen at the slave center is bad enough, they don't need to know about the online betting, and what comes with it. And as technically illiterate and old fashioned those two are, they probably don't.” And I wish to all the kami that you didn't!

Akane hesitated for a moment, clearly not yet convinced, but finally nodded and left. A few minutes later she was back, her oldest sister in tow. “Okay, we're here, let's see Ranma's file.”

Nabiki hesitated. “Are you sure you want to watch this, little sis?” she finally asked. “Nothing will change whether or not you see it.”

“Are you going to watch?” Akane rebutted, and Nabiki reluctantly nodded. “Exactly — you have to watch, and so do I.”

Nabiki looked over at Kasumi, then sighed when the oldest Tendo simply nodded in agreement. “Very well,” she reluctantly acquiesced, and with a keystroke brought up Ranma's auction file as her sisters pulled up seats to each side of her and sat down.

The screen subdivided, the bar to the left containing a link to the subject's statistics and skills, a list of potential buyers with the offered odds for the success of each winning the auction, and another link for more detailed questions such as the number of bids and the various ranges for the victorious bid. Nabiki's eyebrows went up at the sight of the odds offered for the winner. “Wow, 20-1 for a Kuno victory, someone's done their homework,” she remarked, then when no response came back, glanced over at Akane.

The youngest Tendo was white as a ghost, tensed as tight as a bow string, red light flickering in her curled hand as she fought the need to summon her hammer even without a target, her eyes locked on the screen. Nabiki followed her gaze to the photo beside the bar that had gotten her immediate attention and winced, even as Kasumi finally breathed out a shocked “Oh, my!”

The photo was of a completely naked `Ranko' standing with her legs spread and her hands clasped behind her back, pushing her full breasts toward the camera. Her face was slightly flushed, her nipples reddened, tight, and pointed, now clean-shaven pubic mound and lower lips glistening and slightly parted, and she seemed to shine with a light layer of sweat — all signs of arousal that clashed with her closed, stony expression.

Akane choked back a sob as tears ran down her cheeks, and Nabiki put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a sideways hug. “This is why I wished you'd decided not to watch, little sis. Yes, what it looks like happened actually did — Ranma was physically aroused for the picture. Of course, the expression is normally a little different, Ranma isn't exactly cooperating,” she added with a harsh chuckle.

Akane gave a bark of laughter through her tears. “Good for him, the idiot,” she managed to get out. “Did ... did some man ... ?”

“No, at least not actual intercourse. The auction master would want to avoid that to keep the slave's price up — there are men out there that prefer to buy full use slaves that have never been with men, and the fact that `Ranko' is a self-declared lesbian ups the price even more, or at least would normally,” Nabiki instantly responded. “So with his lesbian status, the stimulation would have been done by a woman — especially in this case, where, if they have any brains at all, they'll be less than certain of the efficacy of the Adjustment.”

Kasumi had risen at Akane's reaction and moved around to put an arm around her youngest sister, putting Akane in a two-sided hug. Now, she glanced across Akane at her middle sister. “You seem to know quite a bit about how this works,” she commented.

Nabiki instantly went into full Ice Queen mode, face cold and expressionless. “Yes, I do,” she said in a tightly controlled voice. “Some of the kobankin I've used to keep this house afloat came from gambling on auctions, especially full use slaves — some noble's sexual preferences and previous history is easier to research than whether some businessman needs a new accountant.”

Akane recoiled, mouth opening to shout at her sister, but Kasumi slapped a hand across her face before she could say anything. “So you understand something of what Ranma is going through, don't you, little sis?” she asked gently. “Whatever it took to keep us afloat and put food on the table.”

Nabiki searched her older sister's face for any hint of disapproval, and sagged in relief when she failed to find any. “Yes,” she whispered, “Anything Goes.”

Then her eyes were drawn to the screen as a button labeled `five minute warning' began to flash red. “It looks like the auction is about to begin; give me a moment to get in my bet — 1-20 odds for Kuno winning won't bring in much, but I can't think of a more sure thing in all the years I've been gambling.”

* * * * *

Setsuna sat down at her assigned station and slipped into its slot the memory card containing her bank's certification that she actually had, free and clear, the amount of kobankin she was willing to spend on the auction. That done, she glanced around the room at her fellow bidders and smiled grimly at the nervousness displayed by the various businessmen in the presence of so many of their betters — or at least, their superiors.

Let's see: factors for Mendo, Natsume, Sanzenin, Ikari, the Children of Bastet, no surprises there. Katsuhito's here in person, of course, and it looks like he brought Tenchi and Ryoko as his `bodyguards'. And it looks like Kuno's steward has chosen to handle this auction personally, poor man. I think he's actually looking at a worse day than I am.

Her console quietly beeped as its light announcing the successful completion of the financial verification process lit up, and simultaneously a mild `bong' of a bell sounded and the five minute warning sign above the display stage came to life. Setsuna settled back in her seat as several businessmen hurriedly finished conversations and rushed back to their seats. Then the room lights dimmed, those over the stage brightened, and the first slave strode out to stand before the crowd as Setsuna's console screen lit up with the slave's status (limited use, temporary), profession (housewife), minimum bid (low), and qualifications (few).

* * * * *

In the waiting room, a redheaded girl sat quietly, her hair out of its customary pigtail and styled. Completely relaxed, she looked around at the other slaves up for auction. Some were crying quietly, some simply resigned or stone-faced, a few even eager — those ones were usually young, probably college graduates being sold off by banks in order to recover school loans. All were dressed in the standard dress of their official professions; only Ranma was dressed only in the waiting robe of a full use slave up for sale. None were willing to make eye contact with her except one, one of the probable college students who looked up from her data pad and gave Ranma a nod and a sympathetic smile. Ranma smiled back in acknowledgment, then, as the young woman returned to her reading, closed her eyes and tried to meditate as every so often the intercom announced one name after another.

Eventually, Ranma heard her own assumed name announced. Opening her eyes and looking about, she found herself alone in the waiting room except for the same two guards that had escorted her to the Adjustment, stepping away from their places flanking the door through which she'd entered the room and coming toward her. Giving the two men a level stare (and smiling inside when they tensed up) she shrugged off her robe and strode naked toward the corridor leading to the display stage.

At the end of the corridor was a small room with a door, a young man standing by a table with makeup supplies. He motioned her over to a line in front of the table and looked her over carefully, eyebrows rising. “Remarkable, no tear tracks, no nervous sweat, no chewed lips, hair still in place, you've left me hardly any touching up at all,” he murmured. Picking up some lipstick, he quickly applied it to her lips, then to her nipples and areolae. “That should do it,” he said, and pushed a button on the table.

The minutes slowly passed, until a light over the door lit up. “That's the thirty second warning,” the makeup artist said, “and ... you're on. Good luck.” The door swung open, and Ranma strode out onto the stage and turned to face the dimly visible audience, taking the prescribed position to put her physical attributes on full display and focusing on the clock on the back wall as instructed, her face set in stone. Slowly the minutes passed, and Ranma found it harder and harder to keep herself relaxed and expressionless. It shouldn't be taking this long, what's going on out there?

 

Setsuna smiled grimly, expertly hiding her tension, as she looked across the room at a sweating Kasuse Morimasa. The total bid had grown beyond the Kuno steward's worst nightmare as some of the most powerful houses in the Empire had offered up a good part of their wealth for `Ranko', and his orders were explicit.

The Sanzenin factor had been the first to drop out, understandable given that the male half of the Golden Pair was only in it to stick it to Kuno and pick up a `girl' he had lusted after for almost two years. Katsuhito had been second, in his case probably because of limited resources — considering the debt of honor owed to Ranma, the old priest would have offered every kaneitsuho he owned to buy the girl. Mendo, Natsume, Ikari: their factors had each bowed out in turn, and finally even the Children of Bastet factor had fallen out (probably another case of hitting the end of their resources, if religious fanaticism had won out over prudence), and now only Setsuna and the Kuno steward were left.

It had been a boring auction for Setsuna up to the appearance of `Ranko' on the stage. She had no need to bid on any of the other slaves being offered, except one. Not that that had stopped her from helping out a little, tossing in the occasional bid to raise the final offer and get some of the temporary slaves through their slavery that much faster—it had helped soothe her conscience a little and provided cover for the `mistake' she'd needed to make. That `mistake' had been the bid where she'd been apparently caught by surprise, ending up with a slave she hadn't wanted. That had been necessary to cover her tracks for this hunt, and she was sure she'd be able to find a place in her business empire for an eager young marketing specialist, even if she'd paid too much for her. The young woman would never know how much she'd earned with a friendly smile to a full use slave up for sale.

Now, if only the odds worked out as the Time Gates said they should....

 

Morimasa stared at his bidding terminal as Meioh's latest bid registered, doing his best to ignore his growing hope. At Lord Kuno's insistence he'd come into this auction with an absolutely obscene amount of wealth registered with the slave master. He hadn't dreamed it would all be needed, but in this his lord had been wiser than he (or perhaps it was one of those rare moments when his master's delusion had a brief intersection with reality). He had watched in horror as the bids had kept coming in, and in, and in ...

Now only he and that obscenely wealthy commoner were left, and he had finally reached the end of the total wealth assigned to the auction. Reaching out a hand he had to hold stiff to keep from shaking, he bid the last of his available funds and waited, fighting against hope, looking up at Meioh-san across the room. The emerald-haired woman grimaced as she looked at her own terminal, reached out and hit a button, then looked up to glare at him. Heart sinking, he knew just what he was going to see on looking down — the lit buttons signifying the fashion designer had dropped out of the bidding, and that the House of Kuno was now the proud owner of the most expensive slave in the history of the world. At least I managed to keep the payments spread out over twenty years, Morimasa thought, desperately looking for a bright side to the slow motion financial catastrophe facing his House.

Suddenly, heads all over the room jerked up, looking toward a blank wall as a roar from outside loud enough to overcome even that room's soundproofing was heard.

* * * * *

Outside the slave center, Ukyo winced as the update box announced the final bid by the House of Kuno on the outside screen beside the one story-tall `Ranko' in all her naked glory and the crowd roared its anger. Wide-eyed, she looked around at the huge mob that had been slowly gathering ever since the auction started — many members of which had been glaring at the vendors and bookies in the park, muttering about “jackals” and “vultures.” Already, she'd seen several cameras, still and video, grabbed from their owners and smashed.

I didn't realize Ranma was so popular, the chef thought as she reached up and loosened the battle spatula on her back, slowly backing up and pulling her cart with her. A hail of thrown stones smashed into the display, shattering it beyond repair. Some of the mob began turning on the bookies and vendors but the majority had started to flow across the street toward the slave center and the nervous-looking policemen stretched across the entrance. Suddenly, the gate the limos had passed through earlier slid open and a line of men and women in unfamiliar uniforms, wearing riot gear and carrying rifles, marched out and across the front of the building.

The mob paused for a moment then started forward again, only to freeze in place as the line of armed people turned to face them, dropped their rifles, and fired a crisp volley into the road at their feet. At the pause, a tall, slim, dark-haired man stepped from the line and raised a bullhorn. “This is Captain Goto,” he announced, the front ranks of the mob flinching back from the volume. “Listen, people, I know you're upset, and I know why — I owe him a debt, myself. But trashing this building won't help him, and neither will the guilt he'll suffer when a bunch of you end up dead when you try. Besides, the person really responsible for this travesty isn't even here. So please, trust him to know what he's doing — he is a warrior, after all, he must have a plan — and don't force us to kill you.”

With that, Captain Goto stepped back into the line, and the rifles again fired a volley into the street then rose, level with the crowd. For a long tense minute nobody moved. Then suddenly the crowd started shedding members along the sides and back, and within minutes the park was empty except for some badly beaten bookies and vendors and the original group of protestors clutching their signs. Ukyo gave a deep sigh of relief, dropping the unconscious body of one of the men that had tried to rough her up and sheathed her battle spatula before finishing closing up her cart for travel and pushing it off toward her restaurant.

* * * * *

The Tendo sisters sat and stared for a time at the flashing box showing the final bid next to the photo of the naked `Ranko'. Finally Kasumi, standing behind Akane with her hands on her sister's shoulders, whispered, “I didn't know the Kunos had that much money.”

“Oh, they have a lot more than that, big sis,” Nabiki responded. “But even for them, that is going to hurt — a lot.” With a vicious grin she added, “And those bastards are going to have to decide which part of the Family holdings to sell off, month after month, year after year, to pay for this.”

Akane gave out a choking sound, and Nabiki glanced over to find her biting down on her clenched fist hard enough to draw blood, tears streaming down her face. Instantly, Kasumi was down on her knees while Nabiki reached out to turn off the monitor with a sigh. “It's over, little sis,” she said gently. “Now all we can do is wait and see what happens.” And try to recruit some more spies inside the Kuno household, to keep an eye on things. “We were all sweating up a storm during the bidding, let's go let the Saotomes know it's over, get your hand cleaned up, then soak in the furo for awhile, order out to eat today.”

Akane stared at Nabiki blindly for a moment, then nodded jerkily when Kasumi leaned over and whispered her agreement in her ear. Slowly the two older Tendos helped their youngest sister to her feet and escorted her toward the stairs.