Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Two Feet High and Rising ( Chapter 27 )

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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“I was already asleep by the time Tatewaki-dono got home, last night,” Usagi said from where she was stretching in preparation for the morning workout in Lord Kuno's private dojo. “What time did he get in, Ranko?”

“Well after midnight,” Ranko replied as she made sure the headband she now wore to keep the hair she no longer wore in its habitual pigtail out of her face was securely in place, then added with a slight smirk, “and he slept in late enough that we couldn't have any morning `fun' without having you walk in to help us get out of bed.”

Off to the side, Kodachi winced slightly at the edge to the redhead's voice and a blushing Usagi shot the Kuno a suspicious glance even as she suppressed a wince of her own — since her new mistress's panic attack her first morning on the estate, the Juuban slave had carefully avoided mentioning anything remotely concerned with sex. After a moment, her eyes slid to the ninja standing against the wall of the dojo. Thanks to the full-body clothing, lower face mask and hood, she couldn't tell much about that ninja, other than that she was young and very female. But having watched Ranko and Kodachi spar several times since the younger Kuno sibling had cautiously approached Ranko and asked to join their daily training sessions, the young slave had little faith that the ninja could stop Kodachi if she attacked her long-time nemesis for real. Yeah, like you could do anything, either, she thought to herself with an mental shrug. But Ranko thinks she can deal with her if she has to, and she should know — certainly better than you!

/\

Ranma and Kodachi broke apart, both panting and the Kuno girl drenched in sweat. The two grinned broadly at each other. “Close, but no go,” Ranko said smugly, and Kodachi shrugged.

“Perhaps, but my style is weapons-based — if I'd had my tools, you'd be wrapped up and helpless before me!”

“Yeah, like that ever worked fer ya before,” Ranma rebutted with a smirk.

Kodachi chuckled and glanced around. Ranma's body servant was gone, done with her training and returned to her cleaning duties while waiting for Ranma and Kodachi to finish their sparring before helping her mistress bathe. And why Ranma is training that peasant is beyond me, the dark-haired aristocrat thought. She's enthusiastic enough and certainly tries hard, I'll give her that, but she's hopelessly inept — no talent for the Art at all.

But the important thing was that the bubbly teenager wasn't there at the moment, and Kodachi's keeper was out of earshot if she kept her voice down.

The two girls bowed to each other. “See ya tomorrow,” Ranma said, motioning the other girl toward the exit.

“Ranma, a question,” Kodachi said quietly.

The redhead stilled, gazing at her long-time irritant, an unreadable expression on her face. “What?” she asked just as quietly.

“You have what you were after — the Tendos are freed from their debt, and only the threat to your love remains. However skilled my brother is reputed to be among the servants in the pleasures of the flesh, however effective your Adjustment might be, you can't be happy to be sharing his bed. So why is he still alive?”

“Ya really don't get it, do ya? It's simple — I made a deal, on my honor, ta be a good full use slave so long as he left Akane alone. Until yer brother's delusions make him break that deal, here I'll stay.”

“And is your honor worth ... this?” Kodachi demanded incredulously, her wave encompassing both Ranma's female form and the mansion around them.

“Yes, Kodachi, it is — honor is what allows us to work together, in anything larger than families; allows us ta trust others — maybe trust them ta try ta kill us, but trust them. But for that trust ta exist, ya gotta play by the rules even when it hurts.” Kodachi stared uncomprehendingly at the other girl, and Ranma sighed. “Look, Kodachi, if yer life was in danger and both Sanzenin and me swore we'd do whatever it took ta keep ya alive, which of us would ya trust?”

“Why, you of course,” Kodachi instantly responded.

“Why? Not because of how much I like ya, that's for sure. And which of us do ya respect the most? Do ya want others ta be able ta treat ya the same way? Respect ya the same way? Think about it.”

Again, Ranma motioned the other girl toward the doorway. As this time a thoughtful Kodachi obeyed, followed by her ninja babysitter, she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that, in all the time they'd sparred together over the past four days, the redhead behind her had never voluntarily turned her back on her.

/oOo\

The Emperor examined his Shogun for a time as he allowed the silence to linger after the Shogun finished his report. The middle-aged man kneeling before him was softer than he'd been in his younger days, but still firmly muscled — apparently, he at least kept his physical facilities in good shape, supple and strong. If only I could say that same about his mental facilities! the Emperor thought despairingly behind his expressionless mask. Finally, he asked calmly, “And why has it taken over a week for you to react to this situation?”

“At first, neither I nor my staff actually believed there was a problem,” the Shogun replied. “The attacks were too widespread and random to be the acts of a single organization, and we simply couldn't believe that a single man could move about the world so swiftly.”

“You did not study the files on Nerima?”

“Yes, I did. But I simply didn't believe them — magic just doesn't work that way! It is a matter of ritual and knowledge, not ... not the random chaos that lording is reputed to be cursed with.”

The Emperor chuckled lightly. “Apparently, magic is just that — or at least, that as well. So, a world-class teleporter is a bad enemy, even if that teleportation is poorly controlled at best. How do you plan to respond to the request for aid from the Kuno Family's steward?”

“I plan to grant that request, of course,” the Shogun instantly responded. “The Kuno Family supplies a large portion of the necessary fuel and equipment for the military, even if other clans specialize in most of the arms. If the Kuno Family collapses, the damage to our defenses will be serious.”

“True,” the Emperor agreed, nodding, then added, “but only if in that fall the infrastructure for producing, transporting and storing that fuel and equipment is lost. I would advise limiting the military's involvement to protecting only those ships, manufactories, oil platforms and refineries that it depends on. After all, our military capability will not be affected if the Kunos lose a sugar plantation in Hawaii or a sheep ranch in Australia.

“And if the Kuno Family does collapse, the infrastructure will still be in place, with a new owner taking charge soon enough. So long as we have adequate stores to tide us over, the military will be fine, and there will be no precedent for future Shoguns to use to play favorites in the Clans' bickerings. We do have adequate stores?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Shogun agreed without hesitation, even as he frowned thoughtfully.

“Very well,” the Emperor said with a nod, suppressing a sigh and reflecting once again that his ostensible subordinate was a prime example of a man promoted above his level of competence. If only the skill in political infighting that had allowed him to rise to the top had been matched by a commensurate talent for governance.... “So, what do you have to report on the situation in Indonesia?”

/oOo\

From the roof of the building alongside the park across from the slave center that had seen a near-riot over a week ago, Hiroshi looked out over the scene, at the crowd gathered there, grim satisfaction filling his core. It had been a busy, nerve-wracking week since Nabiki had contacted him and thrown all his plans for the future out the window, one quiet conversation after another with both his new superior and likeminded individuals that he had known as well as others she'd suggested. But the fruits of his labors were spread out in the park. The usual Christian protesters were there, brought out by another full use slave being offered for sale but they were a minority once again, outnumbered by new protesters with signs reading “Not While Ranko Suffers” and “Full Use Is Rape” among others.

Hiroshi's eyes drifted to the few security guards across the street in front of the slave center's front entrance. They were too far away for him to see details, but their body language screamed their fear, and he smirked. Thought after Ranma got sold off everything would go back to normal, didn't you? Not this time!

A police van turned the corner onto the street between the park and the slave center, and half a dozen police in riot gear piled out of the back to take up positions in front of the security guards, and Hiroshi chuckled as those guards went limp with relief. No need to worry, we aren't here for you — this time.

Then the huge screen lit up and the first slave being offered for sale appeared, and he settled back, glancing behind him to make sure that the other eight teenagers sharing the roof with him were keeping back out of sight from the street and park. It was going to be awhile before the full use slave was offered.

/\

A roar went up from the crowd below, and Hiroshi jerked slightly at the sudden blast of sound, finding it hard to believe that he'd actually dozed off. Has the last week actually been that hectic? he thought as he levered himself up and glanced over the roof edge. Yes, another poor soul was having her naked body displayed to the world, for the gamblers and voyeurs — including a large number of teenage boys (you among them, up to a few weeks ago, a voice whispered in the back of his mind).

Hiroshi managed to keep the glance impersonal, only noting that the beauty on display was pretty, but no match for Ranma in all her perky glory. And did he catch a hint of desperation? Or was he just transferring what it must have been like for Ranma to someone that didn't actually care?

He shrugged, even as he rolled away from the roof's edge, rose to a crouch, and scurried back to join the other boys. “”Party time, if you hadn't guessed,” he said with a grin. “Masks and sunglasses on, hoods up, and get out the slings!” Matching actions to words, he quickly pulled his mask from around his neck up across his lower face with gloved hands, took his own sunglasses from his jacket pocket and slipped them on, then reached back to pull up his hood and cinch it tight. Glancing around, he nodded as the last of his compatriots slipped on her sunglasses, suppressing a wince. He really wished Akane wasn't with them, but ... Yet again, he shrugged off the thought. If anyone had a right to be here it was Akane — and what was she supposed to do, sit around and wait for Ranma to come back to her?

Pulling his sling out of his back pocket, he picked up one of the large lead balls from the pile and placed it in the oversized pouch, glanced to both sides to make sure he had enough room, and started whirling the loaded sling over his head. After a few moments he heard shouts from both ends of the line indicating everyone to each side of him was ready. “Go!” he shouted, charging forward, sling whirling. Reaching the edge of the roof, he released. Without bothering to watch the throw, he whirled and dashed for the opposite edge of the roof, grinning viciously at the shattering sound of nine large lead balls smashing into the huge — and very expensive — monitor.

He paused to wait until the other eight teenagers were dashing down the fire escape to the alley floor before following them. they piled into the back of the idling van waiting for them, and he hit a button by the back door as he slammed it closed. At that signal, the van slowly started forward to pull into the light traffic passing by and sedately drive away.

/oOo\

Ryoga finished laying out his bedroll and stood up, gazing out across the desert landscape at the brilliant sunset. In the past week; as he had traveled the globe blowing up and messing with various Kuno estates, ranches, plantations, manufactories, etc.; he had concluded that the crazy woman (or was that “crazy like a fox”?) was right — never knowing just where he was going to end up did add to the “flavor” of the beauty around him.

“Beautiful,” came the voice of the crazy woman from behind him. “You know, I think keeping track of you is proving to be one of the unexpected bonuses from this mess.”

Whirling, he once again found the same beautiful emerald-haired woman from before standing behind him, gazing at the sunset with a soft smile on her face. She still had the same staff straight out of a schoolgirl's action-romance, and he carefully ignored the fact that she was dressed the same way as well.

After a few minutes she sighed and looked around at the range of rocky desert hills surrounding them. “Tell me, why are you camped away from the water basin?” she asked curiously.

“That water might be the only source for tens of miles in all directions,” he replied. “I camp out here to make room for the desert wildlife, so they can get the water they need.”

The woman's eyebrow rose. “Interesting. Did you think of that yourself?”

Ryoga blushed, remembering a scathing dressing down he'd received from an oldtimer, most likely somewhere in these very hills. “Not exactly,” he mumbled.

She laughed softly. After a moment, she added, “It isn't the only source of water around, at the moment.” Turning she pointed to the east where the hill ended at a cliff. “Down there is another smaller basin, well known to the people living around here. The US cavalry used it when they were pursuing the Inde renegades — Apache to outsiders — trying to drive them onto reservations or into the Spanish Empire. But that basin doesn't last through the summer, it's too small. This one does — and only the Inde know about it.” For a moment, her face went sad. “Knew about it, rather. You're the first human to come here in over a century. I suppose all the Inde that knew about it were either killed or never bothered to tell their children of it once the Inde resistance was crushed by the only joint American/Spanish military operation in history.”

For a few minutes the two stood side by side, gazing out across the harsh wasteland lit up by the setting sun. Finally, she glanced over and chuckled harshly at Ryoga's somber expression. “Don't feel too sorry for the Apache, Ryoga. They were hell on their neighbors; raiding out of the mountains to murder, loot and rape, taking captives back to their strongholds to keep as slaves or sell to the Spanish to the south or the Navajo to the north. Though I doubt it would have provided much comfort to the women and children killed when the Spanish and American cavalry overran their last refuges if someone had told them that their husbands and fathers, at least, were getting exactly what they deserved. And the Indians are finally coming out of their generations of self-pity and becoming a valued part of the larger American society, especially the military.”

Ryoga turned to face the scantily-clad woman. “Okay, why are you here?”

She grinned impishly. “Oh, nothing much, just some news I think you ought to hear — the Empire is coming to the Kuno Family's defense.”

Ryoga purpled with rage, hands clenching into fists. “What!? The Shogun and Emperor are actually siding with that ... that ... !”

“Easy, Ryoga, easy,” the woman cautioned, holding up a hand. “It isn't as bad as it sounds. The military purchases a lot of its supplies from the Kunos and will only be protecting those ships and facilities that provide those supplies, the rest will still be left to Lord Kuno to look after. You'll simply need to be more careful from now on, making sure that the people resisting you are dressed in the Kuno livery rather than military uniforms. As long as you do that, you'll simply be an enemy of the Kuno Family rather than of the Empire.”

Slowly, Ryoga relaxed, his fists unclenching. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good!” the woman said brightly, handing him a file she'd apparently pulled out of thin air (the practically skin-tight top and miniskirt that he was still carefully ignoring certainly didn't have anywhere she might have stored it). “These are photos of the various uniforms of the Imperial military, in case you aren't familiar with them all.

“Oh, and you'll want to put your tent up, it's going to rain tonight.”

And with that, the emerald-haired woman was gone.

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The chapter name comes from the song by Johnny Cash.