Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ When the Saints ( Chapter 28 )

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.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Nabiki finished reading Hiroshi's report of the strike against the slave center, smiling viciously. And so it starts, she thought contentedly as she saved Hiroshi's email to her most secure storage and carefully erased all evidence of it from her normal secured operating system. I wonder how many of those massive screens they'll lose before they give up? Though the next one won't be as easy, they'll have guards on the rooftops. Maybe if the Amazons and Konatsu help by knocking the guards unconscious?

The middle Tendo started at a sudden knock on her bedroom door. “Nabiki, you have visitors, the Amazons are here,” Kasumi announced.

“Finally!” Nabiki murmured as she hastily rose to her feet and hurried over to unlock and open the door, revealing her older sister, with Ku Lon, Xian Pu and Mu Tse standing behind her. “Come in,” she invited, stepping back and waving her visitors in and glancing around. “Big sis, I'm short a seat, could you get another chair?” Kasumi nodded with her usually serene smile and started down the hall, only to pause and turn back around when Nabiki spoke again, “Kasumi, where's Akane at the moment?”

“I believe she is in the dojo, helping Uncle Genma and Ukyo teach a beginner's class,” Kasumi responded.

Nabiki relaxed slightly with relief. “Good. If you see her, could you not mention the Amazons are here? From a few comments she's made, I don't think she's forgiven them yet for making Ranma's ... decision ... possible.”

Kasumi nodded sober agreement. “I believe you are right, I'll keep silent — for the peace of the house if nothing else,” she replied, then turned again to fetch her own chair from her room. Nabiki watched her leave, a slight frown of worry on her face—Kasumi still managed to put up her usual serene front, but her cleaning had gotten somewhat obsessive, and since Auntie Nodoka had disappeared so mysteriously, there hadn't anyone to take away her excuse. As Kasumi vanished through her bedroom door, Nabiki shrugged and turned to her guests. I guess we all deal in our own way.

A few minutes later, Ku Lon was sitting on the seat Kasumi had brought before departing with the announcement that lunch would be ready within the half-hour, and that she'd bring some up then, Xian Pu and Mu Tse sitting next to each other on Nabiki's bed and Nabiki the final point in the triangle, sitting backwards on her own chair and her arms resting on the chair's back.

“I'm a bit surprised it's taken you this long to come back,” she said noncommittally, eyebrow quirking.

Ku Lon shrugged lightly. “After the events of a week and a bit ago, I felt that we had worn out our welcome at the Tendo Household more than a little, and Kuno wouldn't move against Akane for some time, anyway,” she replied easily.

Nabiki chuckled lightly. “ `Worn out our welcome',” she repeated. “I suppose you could say that. I'd suggest avoiding Akane if you can. She's feeling a little ... not better, more alive, I guess ... but she still tenses up at any mention of any of you. There's not much chance she could hurt any of you, except maybe Mousse, but I wouldn't want her hurt — especially if she's pregnant, as she hopes.”

Ku Lon's eyes widened at that; and Xian Pu winced as Mu Tse smirked. “I must admit to being surprised,” Ku Lon admitted. “I wouldn't have thought Ranma would wish to leave behind a child when he might not return — especially since he and Akane aren't married.”

“Actually, from a few hints Akane's dropped I think it was her idea,” Nabiki said, and Ku Lon's eyebrows climbed higher.

“Still, now that she's had a chance to strike back against Kuno, with I'm sure more such on the way, she should be more at peace with this mess,” Ku Lon mused, then smiled wryly at Nabiki's careful lack of reaction to her words.

After a moment, Nabiki chuckled and shrugged. “I suppose there's no point in pretending I wasn't behind yesterday's little hooliganism — especially since I'm going to need your help, next time.” She quickly explained her reasoning, and Ku Lon nodded thoughtfully as the other two teenagers grinned eagerly.

“Why?” the Elder finally asked.

Nabiki shrugged. “Partly, to give Akane a way to feel like she's doing something to help. Partly, I need to strike back, myself,” she admitted, then continued, voice rising, “But mostly, to shorten Ranma's time in Kuno's bed. The more I can keep that nutcase feeling paranoid and seeing `the foul sorcerer's influence' abroad in his lording, the sooner he's likely to move against Akane and free Ranma to put him down like the mad dog he is!”

She broke off, shocked at the way her calm, even tone had risen to a shout. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Nabiki hid a wince at the shocked expressions on Xian Pu's and Mu Tse's faces. So much for `The Ice Queen', she thought wryly, even as she turned her attention back to Ku Lon.

Surprisingly, there was a smile on the Elder's face. “So, there's some passion underneath that cold exterior, after all, that is good,” the ancient Amazon murmured. Continuing in a louder voice, she asked, “Of course, we will help — anything that brings this to an end more quickly. So, what word is there of Ranma? How is he dealing with his enslavement?”

Nabiki hesitated, sighed, and admitted, “I don't know. So far I haven't been able to get an in with any of the Kuno household that can give me anything but rumors.”

The smile vanished from Ku Lon's face. “That is not good. Do you think that will change in the future, or is this simply the way things are with the Kuno servants?”

Nabiki shrugged. “I hope it will change, but I'm not counting on it. If all else fails, I'll use Konatsu — I doubt the Kunos have any ninjas to match him for sneakiness, and all we really need is some way to get word to Ranma when `Lord' Kuno comes after Akane, and get Shampoo's cat form to him. Still, it's early days, yet, and I'll keep looking for an in.”

Ku Lon nodded thoughtfully. “True. So it is still mostly a waiting game on our part. Now, what is the Kuonji girl doing here helping the Panda teach? We knew Ucchan's has been abandoned, but I hadn't realized she'd come here.”

“That's right, you wouldn't have heard. She's no longer a Kuonji, Uncle Genma has adopted her.” Ku Lon's eyebrows quirked as the teenage Amazons' mouths dropped open, and Nabiki gave her usual I-know-something-you-don't grin. She was just about to explain, when they the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

“That's Kasumi,” Nabiki murmured, rising and walking toward the door. “She wouldn't interrupt us unless it was important.” Pausing for just a moment, the middle Tendo opened the door to reveal a startled Kasumi, hand upraised to knock. “What's up, big sis?” she asked, grinning slightly.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, but you have another visitor,” Kasumi said, giving her younger sister a stern look. “He needs to speak to you about Ranma and a disturbance yesterday.”

Nabiki froze, mind racing. Easy, girl, it can't be the police — if they had evidence you were behind the destruction of the slave center screen, a couple of cops would be standing here instead of Kasumi; and if they thought you were behind it but didn't have evidence, they wouldn't just send someone around to interview you. And it can't be a Kuno retainer, we didn't threaten Kuno — at least, not directly. Besides, they'd be more likely to drop by in the middle of the night. So, who ... ?

Forcing herself to relax, Nabiki said, “Does he have a name?”

Kasumi blushed slightly. “Oh, my, I'm sorry. It's Juan de Oro. He's a foreign gentleman of some sort.”

Nabiki felt her eyebrows trying to rise, and shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure, I'll be right down in a few minutes, thanks.” Kasumi nodded and turned toward the stairs.

Nabiki closed the door and turned back to her guests. “Okay, I have no idea who this is or what he wants, but from the timing it's safe to assume he knows you're here and involved somehow. Still, let's keep you out of this if we can. Shampoo, Mousse, can you be backup, slip out and around by the family room entrance in case he tries anything?”

The two teens looked over at their Elder, and Ku Lon nodded. “What you say makes sense. I will go with them, and we shall see what we hear.”

/oOo\

Nabiki sipped from her tea cup as she continued to gaze at the enigma kneeling across the table from her. His name is pure Spanish, his Japanese is flawless, but his skin is rather pale, and while he certainly has much of the Dons in his features, there's also a touch that reminds me of the Siberians I've seen....

Deciding that the usual polite opening conversation had gone on long enough, she set down the tea cup. “You're American, aren't you?” she asked bluntly.

De Oro smiled. “Straight to the point, I see. Yes, I am.”

“And how many generations back is your Indian ancestor?”

The stranger's eyebrows rose. “Good eyes — only one generation, my mother is an Apache. But the Apache have never taken racial purity very seriously, and love happens, and lust even more so — she has a great deal of Caucasian blood in her.”

“And your name?”

“You are a blunt one, aren't you? My father was an escapee from the Slave Power to the south, and chose it for himself.”

“No offence, but what does an American care about what happens to my sister's fiancé, or about a minor disturbance even for a Tokyo district?”

“Ah, to business, then. Actually, I'm here to talk to Saotome Ukyo. Before Ranma walked into hell, he sent word that then Kuonji-san wished to work to oppose trafficking in human beings. I am here to see if she still wishes to serve the cause. As well, yesterday's events suggest that you may wish to, as well.”

Nabiki stared for a moment, then her eyes widened in surprised realization. “You're with the Underground Railroad!” With a chuckle, she added, “I didn't know Ranma was a member, but I can't say I'm surprised.”

“I'm afraid you're wrong on both points,” de Oro disagreed. “Ranma isn't a member, though he has helped out on occasion. And my own organization is ... very different.”

“Another organization? But you aren't from the Empire, what other international anti-slavery organization is there?” Nabiki asked.

“The Children of Israel,” de Oro responded, then chuckled at Nabiki's blank look. “I know, you've never heard of us — and with good reason, governments prefer not to admit that there's an actual armed resistance to slavery abroad in the world, not even the United States.”

“Armed resistance!” a stunned Nabiki whispered.

“Yes. As I said, we are very different from the pacifists running the Underground Railroad. Don't misunderstand me, I have nothing but respect for those crusaders,” de Oro hastily added. “They are the open hand of the Suffering Servant, extending His love and mercy to the world's most desperate and afflicted. They are some of the most dedicated and visionary people I know.

“But my God is very different, or rather a different aspect. He is the Lord of Hosts, the Lion of Judah, the Judge of Nations — and where the Underground Railroad is His mercy to the oppressed, we are the arm of the Lord lifted against their oppressors.”

Shaken in spite of herself, Nabiki whispered in English, “I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel.” De Oro's statement hadn't had the least hint of histrionics or hyperbole, simply calm certitude overlying an inflexible will. In the back of her mind, Nabiki was inscribing, and highlighting, and underlining a new primary rule — to never do anything to make this man her enemy.

“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal,” de Oro continued in the same language, then switched back to Japanese. “Yes, the Battle Hymn of the Republic is my favorite hymn. And one you understand in your gut as well, isn't it — now?”

“Oh, yes, certainly better than Ranma does,” Nabiki agreed. “Or did, he might understand better now—or maybe not, he always was too forgiving.”

“But not you,” de Oro stated.

“Not me,” Nabiki agreed.

“So, how would you like to become the founding leader of the Children of Israel on the Japanese islands?” de Oro asked, smiling faintly.

“The founding leader? That isn't you?” Nabiki responded, surprised.

“No, not me. You might have noticed that the world is a very target-rich environment for anti-slavery crusaders,” de Oro said, and Nabiki barked a bitter laugh. “Well, the Children can't be everywhere, so we limit our support to places where the local people are willing to carry on the fight for themselves — if the enslaved aren't willing to fight for their own freedom, we can't help them and won't waste resources trying. In the Empire, that mainly means Indonesia, with some pockets in China. But on the home islands themselves, nothing — until now, I hope.”

“And what do I get out of joining this armed revolution, other than making myself a target?” Nabiki asked, and de Oro shrugged.

“Some financial support; intelligence; trainers; additional training for your best outside of the Empire's reach; occasionally additional trained fighters for particularly important targets; perhaps safe haven for those of your people that have their cover blown, if they can reach it.”

“Would I have to convert?” Nabiki questioned, an ironic smile on her face.

“In earlier generations that would have been the case,” de Oro admitted with a grimace, “but not now. We won't mind if you don't believe in God, so long as you believe in His justice.”

For a time Nabiki simply sat in contemplative silence, then finally shook her head. “Nooo,” she slowly said, reluctance clear in her voice. “Even if I was willing to make that kind of commitment this suddenly, I can't. When I switched from larceny and petty graft to active opposition to Lord Kuno, I had to start rebuilding my own organization from the ground up. It's still early days and so rather shaky, and I suspect very few of them have truly considered the implications of what we are doing — they aren't opposed to slavery in general, so much as one particular enslavement in particular. Once this is over, there will be a few that I can use as a foundation for a new, more general — crusade, did you say? — but that's for later days. Besides,” she added, “this is too close to my family, I haven't had the opportunity to really make sure it couldn't spill over on them.”

De Oro nodded acceptance. “I can understand that,” he agreed. “So why don't you consider my offer while this act plays itself out? I'll look you up afterwards.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nabiki agreed, rising to her feet. “Now, since I'm not jumping right in, why don't I take you to Ukyo and leave you two to your own private talk.”

“Thank you,” de Oro said, rising to his feet as well. “Oh, and my offer is open as well to the three Chinese Amazons that I'm sure have been listening raptly to every word.”

/\

A few minutes later, Nabiki stepped back into the family room to find the three Amazons kneeling at the table, Mu Tse pouring fresh tea all around. “Well, that was an interesting conversation,” she said, kneeling and accepting a fresh tea cup of her own. “So, what did you think?”

“That was a very ... impressive ... young man,” Ku Lon mused. “Not a fighter, but not someone I'd want to get in the way of, when he's set his mind on a goal. And you are going to accept his offer, aren't you?”

Nabiki shrugged. “I don't know, yet. It certainly sounds good, but I have other concerns right now.”

“Of course,” Ku Lon agreed blandly, suppressing a snort of laughter. Xian Pu wasn't as successful, and her great-grandmother shot her a quelling look even as she took a sip of Kasumi's truly excellent tea, then looked back thoughtfully at the middle Tendo. And he isn't the only one becoming truly pure, she thought. Unfortunate, that, Nabiki would have been a true asset to the Village once she'd broadened her horizons beyond looking after her family. If only I'd known how bad off the Tendos truly were....

Once again refusing to cry over spilt milk, the Elder finished her tea and placed her tea cup back on its saucer. “And now, why don't we return to your room and consider what options we have for helping Ranma.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Juan de Oro is my take on a more sophisticated and realistic John Brown, smiting the ungodly — but trying to do so in ways that actually have a chance of making a difference.

The chapter title comes from the song, "When the Saints" by Sara Grove. The relevant part of the lyrics:

I think of Paul and Silas in the prison yard
I hear their song of freedom rising to the stars
I see the shepherd Moses in the Pharoh's court
I hear his call for freedom for the people of the Lord
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them

I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul
I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear
I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sister standing by the dying man's side
I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door
I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load

And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them