Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Heavier than a Mountain ( Chapter 38 )

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 anyone else's published work.

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Ranma, Kodachi and Hanh rose from their unpadded benches as Kuno-domo walked through the door of the waiting room at the Nerima Lording Law Enforcement Headquarters, the Kuno sister's ninja minder bowing deeply. Rubbing her backside, Kodachi scowled at her brother. “So, you finally found the time to visit, big brother,” she said crossly. “Remembered the minor nuisance you had stashed away?”

Kuno froze for a moment with offended pride, then forced himself to relax. “My apologies,” he said stiffly, “but I have been busy reviewing the outcomes of the other raids and wished to speak with you before you returned to our domicile.” He paused for a long moment, then forced himself to relax as he continued, “Kodachi, you did very well. Hanh-kun informed me that there are at least four girls, perhaps more, that almost certainly owe you their lives — both because of your fighting skills and the first aid you provided until the police were able to assume their rightful role.”

Kodachi considered her brother for a moment, eyes widening in surprise at the compliment, then pasted on a mocking smile. “Well, thank you, you are too kind! So, do I get a reward?”

Kuno nodded. “Yes, you do. I am not yet sufficiently convinced of your reformation to allow you to leave the mansion grounds, but I have decided that the reports I have received and your performance this afternoon warrant permitting you more than leaving the mansion only to feed” — his face twisted in distaste — “Greenturtle-san. From here on you will be permitted the freedom of the estate's bounteous grounds, including access to your greenhouse.”

Kodachi stared in shock, all levity vanished, and blinked to fight back the tears she felt prickling behind her eyelids. “Thank —” She broke off, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Thank you. While our servants do their best and are certainly skilled enough for the gardens, many of my babies require special care to thrive. I've worried.”

“No thanks are needed — with your own exertions in our common cause, you have amply earned your reward. And now, why don't the three of you return to our mutual domicile? I will be occupied with seeing justice done the rest of the afternoon and into the evening,” he added, glancing at his disguised slave, “but there is no need for you to remain here.”

Kodachi nodded as Hanh again bowed, and the two started toward the door only to pause and turn when Ranma spoke up. “You two go on, I'm stayin'.”

“Ranko —” Kodachi started, only to break off at Ranma's flat stare. The auburn-haired girl turned back to her master. “Unless ya order me ta leave, I'm gonna watch the trials and executions — I owe it ta some dead girls ta see off their killers.”

Kuno gazed levelly at her for a few moments, but when her own gaze didn't waver he sighed and bowed respectfully. “As honorable as you are valiant, as always. It will be as you say.”

/oOo\

The Master of Servants, dressed in his full butler regalia, was performing an age-old ritual, cleaning the silverware by hand. He had found over the years that the simple job was a fine time to reflect on his many concerns, his mind shifting from problem to problem as his hands went about their task. As a result, he had long since given orders that at such times he was only to be disturbed for emergencies or his explicit previous instructions. Like now.

He started at the gentle knock on the door, then lay down the spoon he had been looking over for imperfections. “Yes?” he called out.

“My pardon for the interruption, sensei, but you wished to be informed when Hanh-chan and the Mistress returned. They are back, and Hanh-chan is here to give her report.”

Pyo sighed, reluctantly looking over the stacks of silverware he hadn't yet gotten to, then replied, “Very well, I will be out in a few minutes.”

/\

Hanh turned from the window she'd been looking out of when Pyo entered the room, bowing deeply. He returned her bow, then waved her to a nearby chair and took a seat. “So, Hanh-chan how did it go?” he asked genially.

“It went well, Pyo-sensei — very well,” she replied, “much better than it might have.” She gave a quick rundown of the raid.

Pyo was frowning as she finished with the meeting between Kodachi and her brother. “So, you and Kodachi performed credibly, but if it hadn't been for the intervention of the Saotome contingent it would have been a bloodbath. Would you say that is a fair assessment?” he asked.

Hanh nodded firmly. “Absolutely,” she replied. “Between the kunoichi that snuck in before the fighting started and the samurai coming in through windows on other sides of the building, the otokodate were taken completely by surprise and had threats coming from too many directions at once. They lost the initiative at the beginning and never came close to recovering it.”

After considering her statement for a time, Pyo nodded. “Very well, now I am sure you are eager to seek out your own bathing before returning to your post at our Mistress's side. Write up a report of your impressions of each of the Saotome combatants after your shift watching over Kodachi-sama is complete.”

“Uhm, Pyo-sensei, am I the right person to continue this assignment?” Hanh asked hesitantly. “With Kodachi-sama regaining access to her greenhouse and the chemistry lab she has there, wouldn't Chin Ru-kun be a better choice?”

“You are right,” Pyo agreed with an approving nod, “with her college degree in chemistry and hobby of studying rare herbs, she is definitely the woman for the job. Unfortunately, she is on assignment and won't be back for several weeks. There is no one else available before then that is more qualified than you, so you will simply have to do your best until then.”

Hanh bowed and turned to leave, then paused. After a moment, without turning around she softly said, “Pyo-sensei, there is one more thing. While Kodachi-sama was talking with the Tendo contingent before the first shots were fired, Akane-san mentioned that she might be pregnant.”

Pyo froze. “Pregnant,” he repeated.

“Yes. She doesn't know, she said it had only been a few weeks — at this point it is simply a hope. Also, when they expressed their frustration at the lack of news about how Ranma is doing, Kodachi-sama suggested that Ranma ask Kuno-dono for permission to visit the Tendo dojo.”

“I see ...” Pyo slowly said. “So Nabiki has failed to gain any eyes and ears within the mansion, but they will soon be able to conspire together directly. Thank you for the report.” Hanh nodded and quickly left.

The Master of Servants stared at the empty doorway she had passed through for a time, considering her report on the raid, then turned his thoughts to the postscript. Maybe pregnant. This is bad, very bad. If she is, when Kuno-dono learns of it the result is going to be ugly. The Saotomes will not respond well to whatever he orders, and they are as good as the best I have, even better in Genma-san's case, though at least the boys they've recruited to help in their assaults on the slave auction viewscreen have only begun their training. I wonder if Nabiki-san believes that her attempt to hide them in Genma-san's classes has worked? And then there's that report of Xian Pu being seen entering the dojo grounds in her cat form on occasion, if the Chinese Amazons are also involved ... this bears some consideration.

And an outwardly unchanged man returned to a task that was suddenly not at relaxing as it had been.

/\

Normally, when one of the Family ninjas appeared oblivious to all around him, he was simply practicing the ancient art of exercising constant vigilance while appearing to be one of the common herd. But this time, Hanh truly did move through the mansion on the way to the dorm room she shared with other low-level ninjas in an oblivious daze, her mind focused inward. On keeping the contents of her stomach inside her stomach, mainly.

Reaching her destination, she mechanically stripped out of her sweaty battle garb and grabbed her bathing supplies, grateful that the dorm, and its attached shower stalls, was empty at this time of day.

I did the right thing, she insisted to herself as she lathered up, the warm water pouring down on her failing to loosen tense muscles. I am sworn to the service of Kuno-dono, and Pyo-sensei as his chosen servant. Pyo-sensei needed to know everything I learned about the Saotomes for us to fulfill our oaths to our sworn lord. As praiseworthy as Ranma and Kodachi are, they are not who I owe my duty to.

But she wasn't feeling the warm glow that had always come before from honorable service — instead she was feeling a cold, sinking sensation, as if she had betrayed her honor beyond redemption. She leaned her head against the shower wall and fought her body's attempt at dry heaves as the warm water cascaded down her back. For the first time in her life, she truly understood the old adage about duty being heavier than a mountain.

/oOo\

“Guilty,” Kuno firmly pronounced, and the row of otokodate kneeling before him blanched. Most of them managed to stiffly retain their dignity, but several of them swayed in place and two fell over in a faint. Though in the case of one of the fainters, it could well have been because of his injuries — he had been one of those subdued by the Saotomes, and those samurai had not been gentle. But at least he took his battering in fair combat, Kuno thought in passing. The Christians may be the next thing to traitors to the emperor, but they have had some positive effect — such as removing the requirement of a confession for a guilty verdict.

Ignoring the men he had just simultaneously convicted and sentenced to death, he turned to the police officer in charge of the patrolmen guarding the prisoners. “Take them and add them to the rest for transport to the Field.” The officer nodded to his men, and they stepped forward to prod the men to their feet as Kuno rose and strode from the room. As he passed her, the flame-haired sun in his sky straightened from where she'd been leaning against the wall by the door and followed him.

“Ranko, you have seen justice done, will you not return to our place of refuge from this world of care for your well deserved rest while I finish this?” Kuno quietly asked.

But his slave shook her head. “No. I've seen justice declared, but not carried out. Unless ya order me ta go back, I'm stickin' it out,” she insisted.

He briefly considered it, but with a glance at her set, stony expression abandoned his protests. “Very well, then let us move on to the Field,” he said resignedly. “Even now these animals that have by their actions proven themselves unfit for life are being removed there, and the executioners but await our presence.”

/\

Kuno stepped out of the limousine, nodding to the patrolman holding open the door, then turned to offer his hand to Ranko. She rolled her eyes, but accepted the help out.

The two walked onto the Field, and Ranko's eyes hardened at the sight of the rows of poles waiting for the prisoners to be lifted up by the crosspieces. Kuno looked over to the side where police vans were pulling up, the first disgorging its load of prisoners. “Forgive me, but I wish to speak privately to the policeman in charge,” he murmured to his slave. “Please, wait here, and I will return momentarily.”

Ranko nodded, eyes remaining fixed to the poles, and Kuno strode over to the highest ranking officer and glanced at the name on his badge. “Officer Abukara, did you receive the instructions I gave back at the court as to the order of execution?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, my lord,” Abukara responded, bowing. “The condemned prisoners from the transshipment point are to be executed first.”

“Excellent,” Kuno responded in satisfaction, then sighed. “Very well, let us get this horror over with.”

He returned to Ranko's side but she failed to notice, her eyes locked on the first group of condemned being ushered onto the Field. A number of the men were being assisted by others, and one was being carried on a stretcher. Hinin, nonpersons by law through fate or choice, took over from the police, who fell back to the Field's edge. The hinin quickly singled out the otokodate one at a time, tying their forearms to separate crosspieces and hoisting them up to the tops of the upright poles and tying their legs in place. Most of the otokodate kept themselves under control as they were lifted up and tied to the crosses, but some — especially the ones that had been assisted onto the Field — broke down sobbing. The one on the stretcher shrieked as he was brusquely pulled from where he lay and hoisted up, scream after scream ripping from his throat before he abruptly slumped, unconscious. Ranko shifted, and Kuno glanced down and shivered at the sight of eyes flaming with furious satisfaction in an expressionless face.

While most of the hinin had been carrying out the task of lashing the otokodate to the crosses, the three largest had approached the police, who had handed each a heavy spear. Those three now approached the first otokodate to be hoisted up and without hesitation slammed their spears up under his ribcage. They twisted the shafts as they pulled the barbed spear blades free, and blood gushed out from the corpse's eviscerated chest to run down its stomach and along its legs and spill to the ground.

Feeling queasy, Kuno turned from the sight to focus on his love. She was so focused on the execution that she failed to sense his gaze, and he found the mixture of nausea and satisfaction on her face almost as disturbing as the bloodletting causing it. But as the hinin moved down the line, he was pleased to see the satisfaction fading. Once it did flare up, and he quickly looked up to find that the executioners had reached the otokodate who had been so badly injured that the pain had rendered him unconscious. There was a story there, but he quickly decided he didn't want to know. But that was the only time that her satisfaction flared, and it soon faded out entirely.

As the last of the first group was dying, he leaned down to a now pale girl obviously struggling to control her stomach to murmur too low for anyone else to hear, “My life, these were all the survivors from the raid at the warehouse, and the only ones responsible for the deaths of innocents in this day's work. You have honored the memories of the girls they helped kill, but surely there is no point in you remaining here longer.”

“Are ya stayin'?”

“Yes, I have chosen to take on the responsibility of beheading the corpses so that the heads may be put on display. But there is no need for you to stay to watch, your honor has been served. Go home, refresh yourself, seek some distraction from the history of this day, and I shall see you tonight when we can seek forgetfulness together.”

For a moment Ranma hesitated, but she finally nodded. “Yeah, you're right. I'll head home.” Kuno waved over one of the ninja that had accompanied him as bodyguards. The masked and battlegarbed figure approached, and upon receiving his instructions bowed slightly to Ranma and silently motioned toward the limousine parked at the edge of the road.

Ranma turned to follow, but paused for a moment and turned back. “Tatewaki-dono,” she started hesitantly, “I've been ... treated well ... at the mansion, but I've missed my friends and didn't really get a chance ta spend much time with `em today.” She paused again, took a deep breath, then finished in a rush, “Can I go see `em tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Kuno instantly replied, “how could I deny you the company of those closest to you?”

A brilliant smile flashed across her face, and she bowed. “Thank you,” she said, and turned again to follow the patiently waiting ninja.

Kuno watched her go. I wonder if that was wise? he thought. She has truly flowered, her love for me growing daily as we together train in the ancient and noble Art of the Sword and revel in our mutual pleasure, but the dojo was the center of the foul wizard's influence. Even with him gone, it may yet linger. He briefly considered sending a ninja with her to keep an eye out for the Enemy's corrupting presence, but discarded the idea — her progress had been so great, surely it could not be undone in a few hours! Any backsliding would quickly be made good as they reached for ever greater heights of intimacy.

Then Ranko was climbing into the limo, the door shut, and Kuno turned away with a sigh as he drew his katana.

/oOo\

Ranma, her hair back to its vibrant red and the permanent makeup that had subtly changed the shape of her face removed, strode through the extravagant wealth of the Kuno mansion toward the living quarters that for the first time since her arrival weeks before felt like a refuge — a refuge she desperately wanted after the blood and horror of the day.

Finally reaching her destination, she stepped through the door into the mix of understated elegance and lived-in feel of Kuno's suite. Across the room, her blonde maid looked up from where she was curled up in a chair with a book in her hands, and a split second later the book hit the floor as Usagi threw herself out of the chair toward her assigned mistress. “Ranma, you're home!” the younger girl cried out, just before her feet got tangled up with each other and her rush to embrace Ranma turned into a dive.

Ranma threw herself forward and managed to intercept Usagi just before she slammed face first into the hardwood floor, the two spinning around into a roll that ended with them bumping up against the wall. For a few moments they just lay there, then Ranma sat up. “Usagi, you okay?” she asked anxiously.

“Y-yes, I'm f-f-fine,” the shoulder-length-haired blonde assured her, sniffling a little.

“If you're sure ... I thought I'd gotten ya past that klutziness,” Ranma replied, eyeing her companion carefully. “So if you're alright, why're ya all teary-eyed?”

“I ... it's just ... I ... I was so scared!” Usagi wailed, throwing herself into Ranma's lap and clutching at her. “You went into that hellhole, and the raid was hours ago and it's all over the news and there wasn't any word of what happened to you and ... and ...”

“Shhhh ... easy, nothin' happened ta me,” Ranma reassured the weepy girl, gently rubbing her back. “Didn't Kodachi tell you? She got back hours ago.”

“No, she didn't. But ... are you sure you're okay? If she's been back for hours, why weren't you?”

Ranma shrugged. “I stayed to watch the trials and executions,” she said with a nonchalance that sounded forced even to her.

Usagi leaned back to stare at her mistress. “The executions? Why!”

“Because ... because I ... I owed ...” An hours-old ghost of a throat-wrenching scream from a girl she never saw and the gunshots that killed her again echoed through Ranma's mind, and she suddenly found herself clutching at her young friend as she broke down into gut-wrenching sobs.

For a moment Usagi froze at the abrupt turnabout of roles, then shifted out of Ranma's lap and pulled the redhead into her own. Reaching up to gently pull her mistress's head against her shoulder with one hand, she rubbed at Ranma's back with the other in imitation of her own comforting a few minutes earlier. As she rocked the older girl, she murmured, “Shhh, it's all right, everything will be all right, you'll see, a bath, a good night's sleep, you'll be okay ...”

For long minute after long minute, the blonde slave continued to rock her mourning mistress as her back muscles began to quiver from the strain of holding the two upright and her legs started to tingle, until the sobs died down to sniffles and the tears ceased to roll down Ranma's cheeks. When Usagi finally felt the girl relax into her embrace, she slowly stopped rocking, her voice falling silent, and simply sat there. Finally, she softly whispered, “Tell me about it later. For now, why don't we get you a snack, spend some time in the furo, then a nap before the master gets home?”

Ranma nodded into her unofficial slave's shoulder even as her stomach rumbled. Wincing at the giggle that forced its way out, she pulled back to look Usagi in the eye and with a tremulous smile she replied, “Sounds good. And Usagi ... thank you, for being here, for being you, for helping make these last few weeks bearable, for ... everything.”