Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Say, what? ( Chapter 19 )

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.

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Ranma, dressed only in a short, plain white slip given to her at the slave center after the auction, grew more and more tense as she watched the streets pass by through the limousine's tinted windows on her way to the Kuno estate. Something had happened at the auction, and she didn't know what. Perhaps her time sense had slowed under the stress of standing exposed before strangers, but it had seemed to take much longer than it should have, and there'd been that roar from outside at the end....

But she'd been instructed that a slave spoke only when spoken to and so far she'd managed to follow that rule, however much it went against her nature, and no one had spoken of what had just happened at the auction, she'd simply been tossed her slip and hustled out of the center and into the limo. Still, that didn't stop her from speculating, and wondering, and coming up with possibility after possibility, each more extreme than the last. At least it kept her from dwelling on the fact that she was headed for the last place on Earth she wanted to go.

All too soon, the cavalcade her limo was in the center of turned and passed through the Kuno estate's gates and circled the mansion to pull to a stop in a large, circular driveway at the back, out of sight of the street even if the estate wall hadn't been in the way.

Ignoring the hand offered to her by the servant who'd opened the door on her side of the limousine, Ranma stepped out, trying (and failing) to keep the slip from riding up practically to her waist in the process and ignoring the servant's poorly hidden appreciation of the free show, practically vibrating like a bow string. She'd been to the Kuno estate several times over the past several years, but not this section and she looked around in confusion. No Kuno, she thought in relief. I'd a' thought he'd be here ta claim his prize. So, what do I do now?

The sound of someone clearing his throat brought her attention forward, and she jerked in shock at finding an older white-haired man dressed as a British butler standing in front of her. How did he dothat? she thought as she suppressed her instant fight-or-flight reflex. I didn't think anybodycould sneak up on me like that! She shook her head with a wan chuckle. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the servants are ninja. “Yeah?” she asked, and the apparent butler frowned slightly.

“I am Pyo Jun Si, the Kuno Master of Servants,” he said curtly. “You are Ranko?”

“Yeah, that's me,” she replied, stiffening at the liberty, and his frown deepened.

“You will address me as Pyo-sama,” he instructed, “and you will use the `sama' honorific for all free individuals that have not given you explicit permission to do otherwise, unless a higher honorific is required. Also, in case you aren't familiar with common usage, you will not take offence at anyone leaving off the honorific when speaking to or of you — that is typical for people speaking to or of slaves.

“Now, follow me,” he ordered, and turned on his heels to stalk toward the mansion. Taking a deep breath, Ranma forced herself into motion in his wake.

The Kuno Family mansion was a maze, each generation adding new extensions and layers, and Ranma quickly found herself lost and wondering when their little walk was going to end. Finally, the two arrived at what was obviously a sitting room, and through open doorways Ranma could see a small dining room, an equally small library, a large bedroom, and a hallway. She couldn't see anyone else, but could hear a young girl's voice singing from farther back inside the bedroom.

Pyo turned to face Ranma, acknowledging her existence for the first time since leading her into the mansion. “These are Lord Kuno's personal quarters,” he said emotionlessly, “and now yours as well.”

Ranma looked around, and relaxed slightly even as a puzzled expression crossed her face when a poetry-spouting bokken-wielding lunatic failed to appear.

“Where's Kuno?” she asked.

Pyo winced slightly. “How you refer to the master in private is Lord Kuno's own affair,” he said stiffly. “But in public you will always refer to him as Kuno-dono.”

Walking over to a desk against the wall, he picked up a gold chain with the Kuno Family crest as a pendant. “This is your slave collar,” he said, turning again to the redhead. “You will notice that it has a clasp. This is not normal practice. However, the law requires that you wear this in such a way that the crest is clearly visible at all times, so remove it only when alone in these rooms, except for Lord Kuno and your personal maid, and keep it on or by your person at all times you are not wearing it so that you can put it on quickly if anyone else enters the suite.”

He tossed it over to her, and Ranma slowly placed it around her neck and with some struggle closed the clasp. It was a tight fit, and she wondered for a moment how they'd known her size until she remembered her measurements being taken after she awoke from the Adjustment she couldn't remember.

As she attached the slave collar, Pyo turned towards the door to the bedroom. “Usagi!” he called out.

Instantly, the singing broke off and a girl with shoulder-length blond hair and wearing a Western maid's uniform, including apron, popped out of the bedroom. “Yes, Pyo-sama?” she asked, looking curiously at Ranma.

The Master of Servants sighed, even as his stern expression seemed to soften slightly. “Usagi,” he said wearily, “You aren't wearing your collar.”

“Oh!” The girl, younger even than Ranma, reached into a pocket on her apron and pulled out her own slave chain and quickly fixed it around her neck, blushing deeply all the while.

“Usagi, you cannot keep doing this!” Pyo admonished sternly. “If you do, sooner or later it will be before an outsider, and that will bring shame on your master.”

“I know, I'm sorry, it won't happen again,” Usagi muttered, dropping her gaze in shame, and after a moment the older man relented.

“No harm done this time,” he said. “Usagi, this is Ranko. She is Lord Kuno's newest, and now only, full use slave and your newest assignment — Lord Kuno has ordered that you are to be her personal maid rather than his.” The blood drained from Usagi's face and she swayed as if she was about to faint, and Pyo hastily continued, “In practice, this will not entail any change in your duties or require you to move to other quarters — Ranko will be living here, and you will still be acting as Lord Kuno's maid as well. The only change will be that you will place Ranko's needs before all other duties.”

“Living here?” Usagi asked, staring at Ranma. “OH! You must be Tatewaki-dono's love that he finally freed from that evil sorcerer! The auction was today? You must be so happy to be away from that monster!” Ranma froze, struck speechless by the girl's enthusiastic ignorance, and Pyo twitched again.

“Yes, she is the pigtailed girl that Lord Kuno speaks of,” the Master of Servants replied with a very faint grimace. “And yes, the auction was today. Now, before Lord Kuno returns home in a few hours, Ranko needs to bathe, the clothiers will need her to make the final adjustments on her new wardrobe, and perhaps a tour of the local area of the mansion is in order.”

“Right!” Usagi enthused. “Bath first!” Grabbing Ranko's hand, she pulled her into the bedroom and toward a door in the side wall out of sight from the doorway to the sitting room.

Ranma allowed herself to be pulled into what was to a normal bathroom what the Kuno mansion was to the Tendo home — a huge round furo filled with steaming water set into the floor, a doorless shower stall large enough for a small crowd with multiple jets, a makeup table to one side, a long, padded table, another door to one side. Soft music was playing in the background.

Ranma simply stood and stared in awe for a long moment, then turned toward Usagi to find the younger girl quickly removing her uniform. “What are ya doin'?” the redhead demanded, trying not to admire the slim beauty of the (now obviously natural) blond girl.

Usagi stopped for a moment, staring, then nodded in dawning comprehension. “Oh, right, you've been living with commoners the past few years, haven't you? It's simple enough — you're bathing, so I'm going to be soaping you up and rinsing you off. It's one of my duties as your personal maid. Now, come on! If we hurry, we'll have a decent time to soak before the clothiers need you.”

Blushing, Ranma pulled the slip off over her head and stepped toward the low stool for the soap and rinse, then froze as a thought struck her. “You do this fer Kuno?” she asked harshly.

The perky blonde blinked, confused at the hostility in Ranma's voice. “Of course, it's one of my duties as Tatewaki-dono's personal maid,” she replied.

“And what other duties has Kuno demanded? Has he ... forced himself on you?” Ranma demanded.

Usagi simply stared at her in continued confusion for a moment, then her eyes widened in realization and she blushed furiously. “No, no! Nothing like that,” she hastily answered, then added under her breath, “Too bad.”

Now it was Ranma staring. “Too bad?” she repeated.

By now, Usagi's blush was so deep it was practically purple. “You weren't supposed to hear that!” she protested, and pulled Ranma the rest of the way toward the rinsing stool. After a moment, she added, “It's just ... he's just so handsome, and kind, and ... and Makoto's talked about how good he is in bed — I know there's no way he'll marry me once my family's debt is paid off, and I'm not a full use slave, but I could do a lot worse for my first time ... or second, or third, and the bed's right there, and every so often none of his full use slaves are in it, and I sleep down the hall, and I know the other slaves and servants think he's `bending that girl over the dining room table' regularly — well, except for Makoto and Ami, but Ami's in Financial, I hardly ever see her even if we're both from Juuban.” For a moment, the girl's perky cheerfulness fell away, and Ranma watched Usagi in the huge mirror on the wall as she stared into space with lonely, pain-filled eyes. But the moment passed, and she continued, as energetically as ever, “But no matter how much I hint that I wouldn't mind at all, he's just too honorable to `take advantage' of a limited use slave — other nobles would but not him, no matter how much the slave wants it ... damn it!”

Ranma winced slightly at the effort that the now ranting Usagi kneeling behind her was putting into scrubbing her back, and the blonde broke off and took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Ah, Ranko-san ... would you not tell anyone what I just said, please?”

“Yer secret's safe with me,” a thoroughly bemused Ranma promised, and her new servant immediately brightened.

“Great! I just knew we were going to be friends,” she enthused. Glancing at the clock in the wall, she said, “Let me get your front, then we should be able to get in a half-hour soak before the clothiers need you and then I'll show you around.”

Ranma just shook her head even as she blushed and stiffened at the feeling of Usagi's hands sliding around to her front, then relaxed at the way the other girl's touch seemed both more gentle and ... impersonal than the hands she'd had to endure at the slave center. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, she thought with forced optimism.