Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Battlestations! ( Chapter 34 )

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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“By all the — what the hells were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking that when my boss tells me to make a run to drop off another acquisition, I do it.”

“But she's just one girl! Sure, she's in shape and cute, but she's no raving beauty — an unscheduled drop-off for just her?”

“Maybe Nishio-san wanted to get her here before the next overseas shipment goes out, who knows? He hardly explains his reasoning to me. Now, are you going to take her, or do I take her back and explain to him how you made the entire trip a wasted risk?”

“Sure, sure, give me that invoice and the key to the handcuffs.”

Ranma stood in the corridor where she'd been left when taken out of the back of the truck that had brought her and manhandled through the loading dock and into the warehouse. She ignored the argument between the two otokodate standing beside her, eyes unfocused as she fought to keep from yanking on the handcuffs locking her hands behind her back.

She had been fine all through the process of darkening her hair color and adding a few touches of “permanent” makeup that were practically invisible but subtly changed her appearance enough that she should be unrecognizable, and dressed in the modestly sexy style currently favored by college girls. She'd still been fine when she'd been handed off to the Half-Lidded Eye's man in the otokodate and led to the truck.

But as soon as she'd been handcuffed, gagged and locked in the dark of the truck, her imagination had awoken, casting up image after image of what she might have to endure in the time between her arrival at the warehouse and the police assault. Even the nightmares she had had from time to time involving Kuno didn't compare — now she had her master's “training” to add a level of verisimilitude that they had lacked and the scenes her mind now insisted on painting were distressingly realistic. And she had thought the trip from the slave center to the Kuno estate had been bad.

“Hey, kid!”

Jerking at the shout next to her ear, Ranma twisted around, a handcuff link snapping and sending the two halves pinging both ways down the corridor. She fell back, rolled to her feet, and fell into a stance to find herself staring at the man that had met her when she'd been removed from the truck as a wall in her mind sang like tapped crystal — not the wall she had encountered (and desperately shored up) when she had joined Kuno in his bed, but similar. The otokodate was staring back, one hand holding what looked like the biggest handgun in the world, especially the open bore of the barrel pointed straight at her. She slowly raised her hands. “Oops?” she said, putting on her best “helpless innocent” look.

After a moment, the otokodate lowered his pistol slightly while chuckling and shaking his head. “I guess that's what we get for using law enforcement surplus.” Then with a leer he added, “You're a cute little number, aren't you? It's too bad you didn't get here yesterday, a lot of guys could have used your company before the showdown with the cops, there would have been a line. What a waste.” Motioning with the gun, he continued, “Come on, let's get you to your room.”

A few seconds later Ranma was looking around at a tiny, plain but clean room, empty except for a futon beside a steel pole set into the floor with one bracelet of another set of handcuffs locked around it. It would have been almost peaceful if not for the sound of a regular feminine moaning coming through one wall.

The otokodate used the gun to motion her toward the futon, and the steel pole and handcuffs. “Lock yourself in. There's a chamberpot by the futon.” Pausing with his head cocked in a listening pose for a moment, he added, “Don't let the thin wall between you and your neighbor fool you, the insulation in the outside wall and the wall to the inside is excellent — scream for help all you want, nobody outside will hear you, and you won't bother us at all.”

“What ... what's wrong with her?” Ranma asked in a shaky voice that was distressingly easy to fake.

“Oh, she was last night's favorite final meal,” the otokodate said nonchalantly. “Now get locked in.”

Ranma silently did as ordered, and soon found herself alone with her moaning neighbor and a single thought burning into the forefront of her mind. They know the cops are comin'.

/oOo\

Hanh gazed affectionately at her mistress ahead of her as the two skimmed across the rooftops of Nerima. Even as she shook her head in disapproval she had to suppress a giggle. Yes, Kodachi's progress from spoiled brat to an aristocrat deserving of service was coming along nicely, but she wouldn't be Kodachi if she didn't forge her own unique path, and Hanh had to reluctantly admit that the scene at Kuno-dono's office had been ... entertaining. When Kodachi had simultaneously insisted that she owed “Ranko” a debt of honor for the way she'd treated her in the past and so wanted in on the raid while insisting with equal vehemence that the code of Bushido that Kuno-dono had dedicated his life to was so much worthless trash, its sole purpose to bind the samurai into willing servitude to the nobility, the expression on her brother's face had been priceless.

Still, in the end he had reluctantly agreed to allow his sister to take part, impressed against his will by the strength of Kodachi's feelings even if he had seemed uncertain as to just what those feelings were. And so the two were approaching the “warehouse” where the slavers and their victims were congregated, aiming for the side of the building that offered the best hope of infiltrating before the police made their move.

/\

Kodachi grinned broadly as she landed on another roof, racing across it to leap across to the next building. Stop that! she reproved herself, forcing the grin off her face. Noble women do not grin! And with Ranma facing rape if not death you have no right to be enjoying yourself! But she was. This was the first time since her arrival home from her binge celebration of her father's death that she had had the freedom of the rooftops, and the light feeling of endless possibilities at her core told her that she'd been lying to herself when she'd pretended she didn't really miss it that much.

For a brief moment, she considered taking off once Ranma was safe and the girls rescued — just disappearing into the heart of Edo and out into the Empire at large, perhaps even America. But it was only a brief thought; even after this little adventure Ranma could not afford to lose a single ally in the Kuno household. And then there was her lack of salable low-level skills — her brief stint as an assembly line whore had been thrilling, but she imagined the thrill would fade rapidly if it was all she had to look forward to night after night. And anything else would probably be too public to avoid her brother's hounds. It certainly wouldn't allow her to live in the style to which she was accustomed.

Then the last rooftop loomed before her, she took the leap, and found herself tumbling and rolling to an ignoble stop.

The rooftop was already occupied, by some very familiar people.

/\

Akane turned from where she crouched in the middle of the roof, glaring at the too-familiar girl with the off-center ponytail spread out across the roof and staring at her wide-eyed. Another female, age indeterminate in current “ninja” battle-garb, landed beside the Kuno sibling, but the youngest Tendo ignored her as she moved at a crouch toward perhaps her most annoying nemesis. “What are you doing here?” she growled at the aristocrat rising to her feet with the help of her pet ninja.

Kodachi stiffened at the tone, face going cold. She opened her mouth but paused as her retainer hastily whispered in her ear. Finally, she relaxed with a sigh, then bowed deeply to Akane. “My guard has reminded me that, as I wronged Ranma — in both forms — in seeking my own entertainment, so I wronged you. Please accept my apology for my past behavior.”

Akane gaped at the other girl, her mind whirling, searching for some angle — any angle — that could explain the haughty lunatic's humble behavior. And she knew about the curse?

“So, Sugar, why the sudden change of heart?” Ukyo asked quietly as she came up alongside her former rival with a large battleaxe that had replaced her battle-spatula at the ready. “And how long have you known about Ranma's curse?”

“More importantly, why are you here?” Genma asked as he came up on Akane's other side.

“I've known almost since the beginning,” Kodachi admitted, eyes dropping. “I was ... entertaining myself at your expense while trying to embarrass my father. All in all, one of the worst decisions of my life — all I did was alienate people that could have been friends while failing miserably to get my father to so much as acknowledge me as anything but a pawn.

“As for why I'm here, I suspect for the same reason all of you are — because Ranma is inside that building, and I intend to see to it that she gets out again unharmed.”

“What! Ranma's in — !”

Ukyo's hand clamped down across Akane's mouth, cutting short her shout. “Easy, no point in wasting Konatsu's efforts making sure the roof's clear of surveillance by letting the whole world know we're here,” the new Saotome admonished her sister-in-law-to-be. Waiting until a fuming Akane nodded, she turned back to Kodachi. “That said, what's Ran-chan doing in there?”

“You mean you didn't know?” a bemused Kodachi asked. The dojo contingent simultaneously shook their heads. “Then why are you here?”

“We're here because there's a bunch of scared, abused, helpless girls down there that need rescuing from the bastards that grabbed them,” Ukyo stated firmly. “Right!” Akane agreed fiercely. Genma calmly nodded.

Kodachi stared at the three for a long moment in bemused wonder, then chuckled softly in a manner that the three found disturbingly sane. “You're Ranma's people, of course you share his view of things,” she murmured.

“So what's Ranma doing in there?” Akane asked again, fighting to remain calm. Damn it, Ranma, why do you pull these stunts?

Kodachi shrugged. “One night when my brother wasn't pleasuring her with his usual competence,” she started, shooting a look at Akane, then broke off when the other girl moaned softly, face blanching, world seeming to float as the words hammered into her. “Sorry, I didn't ... old habits, sorry,” the aristocrat murmured, eyes dropping. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the glares Ukyo and Genma were sending her, she continued, “Anyway, Ranma asked my dear brother what the problem was. He told her about the slavers and the raid he was planning, and his uncertainty of the trustworthiness of the district law enforcement. Ranma suggested — demanded, really — that he have her smuggled in before the raid without telling the police involved and he reluctantly agreed.”

“Yeah, well, your brother was right to worry,” Ukyo said as she lay a comforting hand on Akane's shoulder. “The otokodate know they're coming, and their orders are to kill as many police as possible, all the girls they're holding, and then themselves.”

Kodachi and her shadow froze. “Wha — !” The aristocrat broke off her shout and tried again. “We have to go in, now!”

“No,” Genma instantly disagreed. “I take it you don't know the current layout inside?” Kodachi shook her head. “There's a limited number of places to lurk inside. That isn't a problem for me, and certainly not for Konatsu, he's already inside. But for Ukyo, you, and probably your shadow it would be a definite problem.

“However, the okodates' plan doesn't call for killing the girls until at least one assault by the police has been beaten off, so I am going in about half an hour before the police, with Ukyo going in at the same time they do. You may join her if you wish.”

“Of course,” Kodachi immediately agreed.

“Wait, you believe her!? Just like that? Why?” Akane demanded incredulously, whirling to glare at “Uncle” Genma.

“I do,” Genma replied calmly. “Her skill, while not the equal of Ranma's, is not inconsiderable — and requires a significant level of discipline. And that discipline is incompatible with the image of the cheating, hedonistic, spoiled, aristocratic brat she's presented the past several years.”

“Oh, the hedonistic part was real enough,” Kodachi said with a wry smile.

“Perhaps — but it was a tool rather than a goal, wasn't it?”

Kodachi shrugged and changed the subject. “But you didn't mention Akane as part of our little strike force.”

Akane blushed, her eyes dropping to the rooftop. “I'm staying here as backup,” she mumbled, then hastily added, “I might be pregnant, can't risk the baby.”

With her eyes downcast the youngest Tendo failed to see Kodachi and her retainer stiffen and exchange glances. A moment later, she found her head being lifted by the chin, her eyes meeting those of a happily smiling Kodachi. “Does Ranma know?”

“He knows it's possible ... it's only been a few weeks, since just before ...” Akane's voice trailed off, and Kodachi nodded.

“I hope you are,” the aristocrat said. “Ranma could use something to brighten her gilded cage.” Turning to Genma, she continued, “So, what's the interior layout now?”