Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ I Remember Amalek ( Chapter 23 )

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 or Naoko Takeuchi.

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Meioh Setsuna abruptly came awake in a tangle of limbs, sandwiched by her two bed partners of the previous night, as someone bounced on the bed. Eyes flying open, she found herself staring into the wide eyes of Haruka, and simultaneously the two turned their heads to stare at a broadly smiling Hotaru. “Auntie Set-chan, you're here!” the normally quiet child crowed, burrowing down between the two bemused adults as well as the blankets stretched over them allowed. “Are you going to be my Setsuna-mama now?”

Setsuna reluctantly shook her head as she untangled herself to turn herself onto her back and slip an arm out from under the blankets and around Hotaru. “I'm sorry, `taru-chan, but even if your parents asked I would have to refuse — I'm constantly watched, and if I moved in all of you would be, as well. That would be ... very bad.” Then, glancing first at Haruka and then at Michiru, now sitting up beside her uncaring that the blankets had slipped to her waist, the Senshi of Time added softly, “But last night was truly wonderful, and just what I needed, thank you.”

Michiru smiled gently. “You're very welcome. And though having you move in might be a bad idea, feel free to spend as many nights as you can here, even if only to sleep. Right, Haruka?”

The short-haired blonde nodded vigorously. “Of course, whenever it's safe.”

Hotaru's face had fallen at first at Setsuna's refusal, but now she brightened back up. “Yeah, you hafta come here a lot!” she insisted, and Setsuna laughed, the previous night's ghosts momentarily banished from her eyes.

“As often as I can, dear heart,” she replied, then sighed reluctantly. “But now, I have to get to work. There's a lot to do, and not much time to do it.”

“Awww,” Hotaru pouted, but Haruka pulled the girl over to her and set her fingers to work tickling a giggling fit from her adopted daughter as Michiru swung her legs out of bed and stood up, coolly ignoring the appreciative look-over Setsuna gave her.

“Go ahead and get cleaned up,” the obviously naturally green-haired girl said as she grabbed a robe and started for the door. “By the time you're done I'll have some breakfast ready.”

Setsuna slipped out of bed and started to turn toward the door to the master bathroom, then paused and turned back toward her new part-time lover still in the bed and holding a wriggling girl. “Haruka, while I'm getting cleaned up, would you contact Venus, Mars and Endymion, ask them to be at the shrine this afternoon? We'll need to go over the latest incursions.” At Haruka's nod she disappeared into the bathroom.

* * * * *

In a cheap hotel in the Juuban business district, Kino Makoto pushed her chair back from the computer and snarled even as she slumped in place — her job hunt had not been going well. There just aren't any unskilled jobs that I could handle that pay enough, she thought despairingly, not for someone living alone, and getting a roommate that will want to be justa roommate will be tough. Sure, Lord Kuno was more than generous, with that huge bonus on top of cancelling my family's debt. But the money won't stretch more than a few months, well, maybe a couple years if I get a job as a drudge. The maid jobs pay more, but who'll hire me as a maid after the last couple of years as a full use slave — at least without expecting extra `service' on the side?

The brown-haired girl straightened in her seat and bit her lip as she peered at the monitor screen again. I suppose I could take one of the jobs at a brothel — it wouldn't be thatmuch different than the last two years, and the pay's good enough that I could keep up my schooling and take lessons in cooking or the martial arts, complete the training I picked up in the Kuno household. Then once I have some proof of my other skills I could ...

“Having trouble with the job hunt, Kino-san?”

Makoto whirled up out of her seat, falling into a defensive stance at the sound of the strange woman's voice from behind her, her eyes widening at the sight of the stranger. Before her stood a tall, emerald-haired young-seeming woman (though for some reason she couldn't seem to remember what her face looked like from one moment to the next) of aristocratic bearing wearing a black-skirted and -collared fuku with red bows, holding a staff topped by a huge garnet in the middle of a heart-shaped arc of silver with one hand, the other holding an eight-inch-long staff of green wood surmounted by a gold star. “Who are you, how do you know me, and what are you doing in my room?” Makoto snarled, trying to shake off the sudden feeling that she knew this woman from somewhere, knew her well.

The strange woman calmly stepped back, sitting in the chair against the wall from the teenager. “My name is Sailor Pluto, and I'm here to offer you a job — two jobs, in fact.” She smiled sadly at Makoto's sudden interest. “The first is as a cook's helper at the local hospital,” she continued. “You'll like working there, the chief cook is a gentle soul, the hospital administrator — Mizuno-san — won't hold your past as a full use slave against you, she's a temporary slave herself right now if not full use. And she will want to hear about how her daughter Ami is doing. The second job ... is very dangerous.” She held out the short green rod to Makoto, who took it automatically. “This is yours — Sailor Jupiter.”

* * * * *

Katsuhito looked up from the scroll he was reading at the sense of a sudden spike of power — familiar, unfortunately. Rising to his feet, he strode out of his little study at the Masaki Shrine and out, circling the building and walking into a grove. In the clearing in the middle of the grove, as expected, he found Sailor Pluto calmly waiting for him. Pausing at the edge of the clearing, he stared at the young-seeming immortal as he fought to control a rising tide of impotent rage.

Finally, when he could keep his voice under control, he spoke: “So, what does the world's premier go master wish with this humble priest?”

There was no visible reaction from the emerald-haired woman, though her eyes seemed to darken for a moment. “Chess, not go,” she responded. “Some pieces are more useful, and valuable, than others.”

“So, is Ranma a queen, or just a pawn in one of your little games?” Katsuhito asked bitterly.

Pluto surprised him with a harsh laugh. “Oh, definitely a queen, with him I'm going to break open the whole slavery question in the Empire — or at least plant the seeds. Not to mention `blotting out the memory of Kuno from under heaven', to paraphrase the Christians' holy book.” Taking a ragged breath, she forced herself back under control. “Actually, in a way that's what I'm here for. I might have had to sacrifice Ranma to the future, but I can at least try to limit the fallout.”

Intrigued against his will, Katsuhito gazed at her for a long moment, finally asking, “How?”

“By keeping his loved ones alive, as best I can.”

“And how can I help with that, without breaking my own cover and drawing the attention of the Empire?” he asked suspiciously. “Or are you going to demand that I come out into the open?”

“You mean more than you already have?” the Senshi of Time asked, then chuckled softly at his slightly shamefaced nod. “No,” she said, “I'm not going to ask you to reveal yourself in all your power, I know better than to ask for what your duty forbids — but how would you feel about taking on a student?” The priest stiffened, and she hastily continued, “Not an advanced student, I'm not asking you to teach your family's style. It's Ranma's mother, you see — she carries the Saotome Blade, but she doesn't really know how to use it. Would you be willing to teach her the basics?”

“Why me?” Katsuhito asked suspiciously.

Pluto shrugged. “You're very good, and you've already come out into the open to an extent by bidding on Ranma at all — continuing your involvement by volunteering to teach Nodoka-san the sword won't make that worse, and might give you the opportunity to allay the suspicions of the Tokko.”

Gazing at the woman he perhaps detested more than any other living, the greatest swordsman of the Empire of Jurai finally nodded. “I will visit the Tendo dojo tomorrow, and offer myself as a sensei — but for the basics only.”

Pluto nodded. “That's all I could ask—and perhaps all you will have time for, anyway. And Katsuhito? Thank you,” she finished softly.

“I'm not doing it for —” Katsuhito started angrily, only to break off when he found himself talking to empty air.

* * * * *

Ryoga sat in front of the odd stone building on the top of a strange vine-covered stepped pyramid watching the sun rise over the edge of the rain forest on the other side of the clearing, fighting to keep depression from overwhelming him. He didn't know how many hours it had been since his shouted his oath to the quickly cheering crowd (and hadn't that been embarrassing), but as he had wandered since he had cudgeled his brain for a way to make it a reality — and had come up dry, other than to trust to luck and hope for the best. And just how well had that worked for him so far?

“Beautiful, isn't it?” a woman's voice asked from beside him, and the sometimes-piglet whirled to find an emerald-haired, fuku-clad seeming-young woman (though his eyes seemed to slide away from her face) standing beside him, leaning on a garnet-tipped staff. She was watching the sun rise, listening to the sounds of the rain forest's inhabitants starting their day. “You know, that's one thing I envy you about your blessing — sights like this on a regular basis.” Turning to look at the dumbstruck teenager, she added, “Certainly, I can choose to visit where I please, in the rare moments I can spare, but the sheer seeming randomness of your wanderings must add a whole new level of mystery and wonder to it.”

Staring at the madwoman, Ryoga finally managed to collect his scattered thoughts to ask the first thing that came to the forefront of his mind. “Blessing? You mean my sense of direction?”

Smiling impishly, the woman sat down. “Yes, your sense of direction. It must be handy, being able to get where you need to go just by walking.”

“Where I need to go? What are you talking about?! It's a curse, it's sent me all over the world, without friends or family —”

“And helped you become what you wanted most, a match — or at least a near-match — for Ranma. Who else has managed to stay within shouting distance of his skill as a warrior?”

“Well — no one,” Ryoga admitted.

The woman nodded. “And it's at least in part because of your sense of direction that you've had the opportunities needed to do that. That's how it works — it won't give you your heart's desire, but it will take you where you need to go to find it, or earn it, or learn what you need to obtain it.

“And it will even change its focus as your desires change — why do you think you just happened to be on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial when you swore your oath to free Ranma?”

“Where?”

“Look it up sometime, you ought to appreciate Abraham Lincoln — now. Anyway, you're having trouble coming up with a way to help Ranma, aren't you?”

Ryoga stared at the woman, thoughts too scattered to even notice how skimpily she was dressed. She patiently waited, and he finally nodded. “You already seem to know everything else, so yeah, I can't really think of anything beyond just charging in and pulling him out.”

“And you'd have to beat him first, since Ranma wouldn't leave with you willingly — not with the promise he made to Kuno,” she finished, and Ryoga nodded.

“Still, there's something you haven't considered. What's Ranma's greatest strength as a fighter?”

Ryoga leaned back against the vine-covered wall at his back and stared thoughtfully at the forest clearing below. “His flexibility,” he finally said. “I'm stronger than he is, tougher, my chi attacks are more powerful, I think I'm as skilled, but whatever I come up with might work against him twice if I'm lucky — sometimes it doesn't even work the first time, he'll come up with a counter before I finish the attack.”

“Right,” the maybe-not-madwoman agreed. “And do you think Kuno is going to be able to keep his word to Ranma?”

“Not a chance,” Ryoga replied instantly.

“Does Ranma know that?”

“Of course he ... does,” Ryoga said, suddenly thoughtful. “Ranma's already got a plan, doesn't he?”

“Yes, he does, and he'll take care of Kuno just fine, when the time comes. So what we need to do is see to it that he also escapes the legal consequences of killing one of the wealthiest men in the Empire. And that's where you come in.”

“What can I do?” Ryoga asked eagerly.

“Use your `sense of direction' to travel the world, to the various Kuno estates, except for the family estate in Nerima, and cause as much damage as possible. You don't need to kill anyone, just use the Breaking Point to blow things up, knock buildings down, cost the Kunos as much as you can.”

“That's it, nothing else?” Ryoga asked.

The impish smile was back. “Just that.”

“And what will that do?”

“Other than bleed the Kuno coffers dry? Lord Kuno will never know where you'll strike next,” the woman replied immediately. “Understandable, since you won't know, either. And so he'll either have to spread his security forces all over the globe, or concentrate them somewhere and hope you stumble into them. Which means when the time comes they won't be in Nerima.”

Ryoga thought it over, and a harsh smile spread across his face. “I like it,” he murmured, nodding. “I'll do it.”

The emerald-haired woman smiled and nodded back. “Good, thank you.” She looked out across the clearing for a moment, then sighed and rose. “Well, no rest for the wicked,” she said, face going grimly sad for a moment.

Not that Ryoga noticed. Now that his inner turmoil had settled he was abruptly aware of the skimpily-covered beauty of the woman beside him — especially since he was looking directly up under her short skirt. When he again regained consciousness, she was gone.

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The title comes from the scripture Setsuna paraphrases, Deuteronomy 25:17-19: “Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and cut off all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of God. When the LORD your God gives you rest from all the enemies around you in the land he is giving you to possess as an inheritance, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!”