Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Sleepless Nights ( Chapter 43 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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.
Some high citrus content! You are warned....
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Ryoga abruptly awoke, carefully not moving as he listened for whatever had startled him out of a deep sleep. When he had set up his tent it had been days since he had last slept, and he had been overjoyed to see the sign in English announcing he was in some state park with an unpronounceable name — it had been the proof he needed that he had finally wandered outside of the Empire's boundaries and so could safely set up camp. At least, he had thought it was safe....
Cracking open his eyes, he realized that there was a little too much light, what looked like firelight dancing on his tent wall. Whoever had awoken him had been around at least long enough to get a good fire going, so the intention obviously wasn't to kill him in his sleep. With a faint sigh of relief, he slowly shifted his blankets off of himself, then tightened the various ties and buckles on his clothes that he had loosened before turning in for the night. Then bunching his legs, he thrust himself out of the tent, rolling through the snow to his feet to confront the intruder.
The intruder turned out to be the crazy woman in her much-too-skimpy fuku (a fact he desperately tried to ignore as soon as he saw her, after wondering briefly why she wasn't shivering in the cold). The emerald-haired woman was sitting on a large log by a fire pit that hadn't been there in the center of the pine forest clearing when he'd crawled into his tent, and he suddenly wondered just how tired he had been, that she had been able to set all this up without waking him.
Without looking up from the hot dogs on a long, three-tined fork she held over the flames, she asked, “Are you as hungry as you were tired? If so, I have more — grab a stick and help yourself. I have buns, cheese, ketchup, relish, pickles, anything you might need.” His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been as long since he had eaten as since he'd slept, and he felt his cheeks heat up as his self-invited guest chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes.” She shifted over to make room on the log, and when Ryoga eagerly sat down handed over a fork and the package of hot dogs.
For a time neither spoke, as Royga finished off half-raw hot dog after half-raw hot dog (a still-obviously amused woman showing him how the condiments side of the unfamiliar food worked). Finally, when the last hot dog was gone and Ryoga's stomach was slightly distended, he sighed contentedly and glanced over at his guest to see the woman smiling quietly at the slowly dying fire's leaping flames. Sobering, he said, “Thanks for the meal, I really appreciate it. But every time you show up it's to give me marching orders, so what's up this time?”
The woman sighed and nodded as she turned to face the Lost Boy. “Right, to business. Remember how I suggested you not attack Kuno facilities guarded by the Imperial Army?” Ryoga nodded. “Well, I take it back — hit them, and hard.”
Ryoga stiffened in shock. “Attack the Empire? Why?”
“Not the Empire, Ryoga-kun, Kuno. And it won't be for long, just for a week or so, things are coming to a head. As for why — it's Ranma, his Adjustments have failed. That gives him the freedom that he needs to deal with Kuno when the time comes, but until then her time sharing a bed with Kuno is going to be ... rough. So let's give Kuno something to think about besides spending time with his sex slave.”
Ryoga nodded, face suddenly pale, then jerked to his feet and turned toward his tent. “Right, I'll get packed and right on it.”
“Wait!” Ryoga turned back toward the woman. “No, Ryoga-kun, get some more sleep first — that way you'll be rested, and it should be nighttime in Japan, better cover and no workers around. So far you've managed to avoid killing anyone, let's try to keep that up, especially since you'll be going up against the Emperor's troops. Don't kill any of them, and maybe I can get you off the hook for your attacks once this is over. You won't be as much use to me in the future if there's an Imperial shoot on sight order out for you throughout the Empire.”
Ryoga's gaze hardened. “So I'm one of your tools. Tell me, is everything just a maneuver to you?”
The woman's face froze, and she rose to her feet. In a cold voice, she said, “Yes, everything is a maneuver. No, everything is not just a maneuver.” Turning away, she strode toward the edge of the clearing
Ryoga watched her go, suddenly ashamed, and just as she reached the edge of the clearing he called out, “Wait!”
The fuku-clad woman paused for a moment, then turned around. “Yes?”
“Thanks for mentioning the changing view, the first time you visited. I'd gotten too used to it, didn't really notice anymore — you woke me up.”
She gazed at him for a few moments, then smiled coolly in acceptance of his oblique apology. “You're welcome,” she replied, then turned and vanished into the trees.
/oOo\
Ranma writhed gasping on the luxurious bed, one hand clutching at the silk sheets she lay on, the other gripping the hand of one of her lovers, the one whose lips were locked on a nipple crinkled tight with passion. Her legs were spread wide, and between them the expert tongue of her other lover played with her dripping folds and flicked across her engorged clit, sending lightning flashes of pleasure shooting through her body and forcing breathy shrieks from her lungs.
Her hips bucked at a particularly intense flash, forcing her lover up and back, and Kuno sat up, chuckling as he rubbed a finger around his mouth to wipe away her juices before sucking it clean. “I do believe our Lady Ranko is ready, my love. Do you not agree?” Ranko heard him murmur, voice distorted by her gasping breath and blood pounding in her veins.
To her disappointment, the lips suckling at her breast released their grip, and a feminine voice throatily responded, “Oh, yeah, more than ready — give her what she needs, hard and fast, and then it's my turn!”
“But of course, how could I ever disappoint the foundations of my heaven, the lights of my world?” Kuno agreed. He shifted forward to bring his and Ranma's hips together, reached down between them, and she felt the head of his rampant manhood push between her nether lips to sink slowly deep inside her. “Ohhh, yessss,” she hissed as he bottomed out, his balls bouncing against her ass. Then he was he was pumping, slamming into her, the lightning flashes were back and her generous breasts were shaking with each thrust.
As Ranma once again began to shriek out her building pleasure, the lover still gripping her hand once again leaned down to recapture her bouncing nipple as for long minutes Ranma's world narrowed to the sensations washing through her. Then the redhead's back arched as the building pressure broke and wave after wave of her orgasm ripped through her. Her spasming pussy clamped down on her master's pistoning cock, and he shouted as it swelled and flooded her depths to overflowing with his seed.
Ranma slumped back onto the bed as her muscles finally relaxed, aftershocks echoing through her limp body, and the mouth on her breast again let go as her lover lay down next to her. Turning her head, Ranma blinked sweat out of her eyes and focused to find herself staring at Akane's smiling face, loving happiness shining from her eyes, a Kuno slave-chain around her neck. “Happy birthday, Ranko,” Akane whispered.
/\
Ranma abruptly awoke, every muscle tense and covered with sweat. She was lying on her back on the same bed as her dream, but the lights were out, her master was softly snoring beside her rather than crouched between her legs, and they were alone — Akane was safely back at home, not lying naked beside her and calling her `Ranko'.
Sighing softly with relief, Ranma slipped out of bed and made her way on shaky legs through the dark to the bathroom. She closed the door and turned on the lights, then leaned back and slid down the door, leaving a sweat-streak behind, until she was sitting on the cool tile floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, she simply sat and shook. Kami, what a nightmare!
Not the worst nightmare you've ever had — that sweat isn't from fear, is it? It sure beats the Pit. Yes, it did — the claws and teeth, the cold dark, the piteous cries of hunger from the demons trapped with him, scratching, biting, trying to eat him — it was no contest. This had definitely been the most pleasant ... no, most pleasurable nightmare he'd ever had. And what had preceded it had been just as disturbingly pleasurable — the disappearance of her Adjustment didn't mean that her master suddenly didn't know his way around a ... girl's ... body, and he had lovingly proven it again. And yet ...
Ranma rose to her feet, stepped over in front of the full-length mirror, spread her legs slightly, and carefully looked herself over. Bright red hair, both that falling down about her shoulders and framing her own slave chain and the patch where her legs joined, outsized but firm mounds on her chest ... and just below her trimmed patch of soft pubic hair ... Reaching up with one hand to cup a breast, gently running a finger across a nipple, she shivered as the fingers of her other hand traced a path between her again-dampening nether lips.
A soft moan escaped, and she closed her eyes for a moment, until the final image of her dream flashed into her mind, Akane lying on Kuno's bed beside her, smiling happily at one of her lovers, wishing `Ranko' happy birthday. Yeah, right, like that'll ever happen, she hates his guts. Can't blame her, either — she had ta cut off her pop's head `cause a' him! Sure, he's a loon, he didn't really know what he was doing, but still ... Stepping back, the redhead squared her shoulders. I'm not Ranko. I'm Saotome Ranma, lover of Tendo Akane and kami willing will be her husband and father of her kid, son of Genma and Nodoka, heir of the Saotome school of the Anything Goes style of martial arts.
Turning from the mirror, she grabbed the nearby bathing supplies and sat on the stool to soap up and wash off the night's detritus — both the fresh sweat and the stale sweat and dried fluids from earlier.
Toweling herself dry, she turned out the lights stepped back into the bedroom, only to pause for a time, gazing at the shadowy presence of the master bed. Finally, she turned back into the bathroom and found her bathrobe hanging in its place by memory in the dark, then silently slipped through the bedroom and main room, down the hall toward the dojo and Usagi's bedroom.
/\
Usagi jerked awake as the alarm taped underneath one of her breasts gently vibrated, alerting her that someone had tripped the motion sensor she'd set up across the dojo door the previous evening. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes (sleep, not tears) as her bedroom's lights slowly brightened, the dream of sitting in a railway car looking out the window as it pulled away from a station, waving back at a smiling Akane and Ranma faded from her mind. She thought for a moment on the dream, the way Ranma had kept growing and shrinking, switching from male to female, hair shifting from red to black and back (the various transformations not always in sync) and shook her head. Okay, so she wasn't turning into a lesbian, just a bisexual.
Sighing, the blonde Juubanite glanced toward the clock: almost midnight. Ranma was a little earlier tonight, or maybe her body servant hadn't caught her the previous night until she'd been at it for awhile? Whichever. Shrugging, she glanced toward her robe tossed across her chair, glanced down at the teddy she wore (green this time), then shrugged again. She wasn't planning to strip naked this time, unless she needed to shove Ranma in her shower again, but maybe getting this much of an eyeful would give her mistress a needed thrill. Besides, there was always the morning bath after their workout....
Smiling in anticipation, she walked out the door and the few steps down the hall to the dojo. Peeking around the doorframe, she found what she'd expected, her redhaired mistress once again practicing her Art — in the nude again, and for a brief moment Usagi wondered if Ranma's childhood training trip had gotten as far as Greece before shoving the thought aside. Nabiki and Akane had called it when they predicted Ranma's reaction, now it was time to follow their advice.
“Ranma?” she called out softly, before smothering an only partially faked yawn. “It's almost midnight, what are you doing here? Did ... did your time with Kuno-dono not go alright? Surely he didn't just barely ... finish?”
Her mistress had whipped around when she spoke, relaxing at the sight of Usagi standing in the doorway. “No ... no, that's long over,” she replied.
“So you couldn't sleep? Then what are you doing in here? You need sleep, you didn't get enough last night, you probably didn't get enough the night before, and I said you could spend the night with me whenever you needed to. Is something wrong with me? Did I offend you somehow?”
“No, no!” Ranma responded hastily. “I just ... just ...”
Just didn't want to admit you need help, Usagi thought, remembering the middle Tendo's advice.
“You just didn't want to impose, I know,” Usagi finished, walking up to her mistress. “But it's not really fair, you know, not letting us do our share. Now, come to bed — you'll want to be up early enough to be back in the master bedroom before Kuno-dono wakes up. And next time, don't make me get up and fetch you.”
“Yes, Mother,” Ranma intoned solemnly, the same way he'd heard Yuka do to Akane, once. As then, it startled a snort of laughter from her body servant, and Ranma smiled at the sound even as she felt something in her relax.
Usage turned to lead the way, and Ranma found her eyes drawn to the way that the cut of the younger girl's teddie left most of her buttocks bare — a pair of buttocks that had tightened up noticeably since she'd started working out under her mistress's direction.
Glancing back as she entered the bedroom, Usagi caught the direction of her mistress's gaze. “Like what you see?” she purred, trying to channel the tone of one of her favorite actresses.
Ranma's widening eyes shot up to her face. “No! I mean, yes! I mean —” she babbled in ingrained, instinctive panic, and Usagi laughed softly.
“Relax, Ranma, if I didn't want to be looked at I wouldn't dress like this,” she said. Though my original target was Kuno-dono ... Running her eyes over the redhaired girl's nude form, she added, “You obviously can't say the same. I know you don't usually wear anything at night, but don't you believe in nightclothes even for walking around?”
Ranma shrugged, face abruptly closing up. “Far as I can tell, the only reason ta put on nightclothes is so Kuno can take `em off. And call me Ranko when we're away from the Tendos.”
Oops ... Usagi simply stood for a moment, one lifted hand half-outstretched toward Ranma, trying frantically to think of something to say. But nothing came to mind, and she finally just dropped her hand, saying, “Right, sorry, let's get to bed.” Lying down, she waited until Ranma lay down beside her, pulled the other girl's stiff body against her own, and reached up to palm off the room's lighting. “Good night, Ranko,” she whispered.
G'night, Usagi,” Ranma replied. She slowly relaxed, and soon settled into sleep.
But Usagi simply lay there long into the night, smiling wistfully as she listened to her love's soft, steady breath in the silent dark.
/oOo\
Ryoga slowly woke up for the second time, this time to bright sunlight with occasional unfamiliar birdsong echoing through the forest around him. With a contented sigh, he again tightened various ties and buckles, then crawled out of his tent to a beautiful clear (if cold) morning. For the first time in days he felt both rested and full, and for a few minutes he simply luxuriated in the sensations as he gazed appreciatively at the scenery about him. He'd have to thank the crazy lady again when he next met her, when it wouldn't be an unspoken apology.
But thoughts of the perhaps not so crazy emerald-haired woman reminded him of their conversation, and what his rival faced. Suddenly the scenery lost its appeal, and Ryoga hastily turned to start breaking down his camp. It was time for the not-so-much-so-Lost Boy to continue his lesson in consequences to the new Lord Kuno.
/\
Ryoga crouched in the undergrowth outside the fence surrounding what looked like a refinery. He didn't see any lighted signs proclaiming ownership as he had in the beginning, but wasn't surprised — those lights had gone off within days of the start of his crusade. But he wasn't worried, after the maybe-crazy lady's bit of advice on the workings of his “curse,” he had begun trusting it more. If it had led him here, then here was where he needed to be.
Carefully staying hidden, he scanned what he could see in star- and moonlight, running his eyes along the fence and the ground between that fence and the undergrowth. That undergrowth was well back from the fence, more than usual, but had obviously been cut back recently. And at the other places his “curse” (he supposed he ought to start calling it his gift) had brought him since the maybe-crazy lady's second visit, that had usually meant ...
Yes, there, moving toward him along the inside of the fence, night vision goggles on, was an Imperial Army patrol. Ryoga froze in place, hardly breathing until they'd passed, then about ten minutes longer, before finally relaxing. As he'd thought. And beyond the roving patrols, there undoubtedly were soldiers stationed inside as well. He eyed the wide cleared zone between the fence and the first buildings and storage tanks. While he would have no problem getting through the fence, he wasn't faster than bullets, and he wasn't that tough — not against what the Army was likely to throw at him. Fortunately, he didn't need to be. Grinning, he carefully slipped back into the underbrush.
/\
The emerald-haired lady's praise of his wandering curse had been an eye-opener, and he'd started paying attention rather than simply walking in a depressed haze, dreaming of what he'd do whenever his path took him back to Nerima, or trying to come up with a new way to beat Ranma. As a result, he'd noticed a pattern to the way the unpredictable shifts happened — like linked to like. If he wanted to go to a particular location, he needed to start in at least a vaguely similar location. So he kept his eyes open as fifteen minutes of “random” walking through countryside, then a village, then a small town, finally brought him to the rough, rundown part of a nighttime Western city, vaguely familiar, late enough for the streets to be empty except for desperate streetwalkers. Looking around he picked a likely building, an old home or apartment building with windows boarded up, clearly abandoned — which would mean no security alarms.
Striding up to the door, Ryoga pulled on the handle. As expected the lock had been broken, and as he stepped into an almost pitch-black hallway a wave of odor washed over him that let him know that besides moldy carpet, squatters had used at least one of the building's rooms as an open-air toilet, also as expected.
Finding the wall with an outstretched hand, he carefully walked along the hallway as he concentrated on where he wanted to go, the refinery he had left less than half an hour earlier. His hand running along the wall found a corner; he turned it, and felt the surface beneath his feet change from the uneven feel of worn carpet to some sort of hard, smooth surface as the wall changed from a surface rough of shedding plaster to smooth wood.
Ryoga grinned fiercely. It had worked! Well, maybe. He continued walking along the hall, testing each door as his hand on the wall found it until he found one that was unlocked. It led to a meeting room, with the window he was looking for, and an upper-story view of the buildings and storage tanks that could be the refinery he wanted. Ryoga shrugged. If it wasn't the same refinery it would be another Kuno facility, and from the look of the storage tanks another one guarded by soldiers. One was as good as another.
/oOo\
Lord Kuno awoke to the sound of the vidphone alarm demanding his attention from the main room. Sitting up and rubbing at his face, he glanced around and stiffened as the absence of his love registered — maybe the bathroom?
Rolling off the bed, he strode over to the bathroom — lights out, no redhaired beauty waiting for him ... first things first, perhaps she'd simply gone for one of the late night walks the Family's ninjas had reported.
Grabbing his robe from its hook on the wall, he shrugged it on as he strode toward the main room and the sounding vidphone and hit the `accept' button.
The screen lit up with the face of the Kuno steward, who immediately dipped his head in an on-screen bow. “My apologies for disturbing you, my Lord, but there's been another attack on one of our facilities.”
“That is unfortunately all too common an occurrence in these difficult days. So Morimasa-san, what, pray tell, makes this one so important that the report could not wait until my morning summary of the health of my lording?” Kuno asked coldly.
“This was another attack by Hibiki-san, and this time he hit one of our refineries — the one at Niigata,” Kasusi hastily replied.
Kuno froze in shock. “But our refineries are protected by his Majesty's army!” he protested. “Has Hibiki-san gone mad to attack the Emperor himself? To kill the Empire's protectors?”
“He didn't do either, my Lord. The first anyone knew he was there was when he set fire to the storage tanks. The central reaction force evacuated without serious injury and the patrols he somehow slipped past without being noticed were never in any danger.”
Kuno frowned thoughtfully. “He has never demonstrated such skill in stealth in any of his previous assaults. Are you certain that he was the attacker?”
“Yes, my Lord, he set the fires through use of the same bluish-red energy blasts he somehow generates, and we did capture some footage showing him silhouetted by the flames — the shape, at least, is his. The footage shows him very close to the explosions, perhaps he was killed by his own attack?”
“Once we bring the fire under control a search must be made for a body, but it unlikely that the kami will smile upon us to such an extent,” Kuno replied, then paused. “We are bringing the fires under control?” he added as he tried to remember the assets immediately available at Niigata.
Kasuse waffled for a moment, but finally shook his head. “No, we aren't. The people on the ground are making a valiant effort with the resources they have, but for a disaster of this magnitude — the first reinforcements will arrive within a day, and more every hour after.”
“Very well, you were correct to disturb my repose. Instruct those at Niigata to pull back, limit themselves to keeping the fires contained — there is no point in risking such courageous people when there is no chance of victory. Arrange transportation to the refinery while I dress and arm myself. I will hear a full report on the way.”
Kasuse hastily made his farewell and bowed before the screen went dark.
Kuno stared at the blank screen for a moment, before turning away to return to the bedroom and hurriedly dress in his usual daytime finery and twin swords.
Returning to the main room, he scribbled out a note for Usagi letting her know he would not be there for breakfast and quietly walked down the hallway past the mini-dojo's door to her quarters, only to pause at the sight of her slightly open door. Curiously, he peeked through the crack and an eyebrow went up at the sight of two indistinct figures asleep in the bed. From the hint of red in the faint shine of the nightlight, the second form was likely to be Ranko, but what was she doing here? He took a deep breath, but there was no scent of sex....
Nightmares, he finally thought to himself. The glory of my life was deeply disturbed by her first taste of death in combat, both those of the men she killed and the innocents she failed to save, as well as the judgments and executions that followed. She must be reliving that day in her dreams, and my own noble form playing a part in the events deprives her of the power to draw comfort from my presence. I will have to remember to thank Usagi-chan when I return for giving her mistress that bliss of sleep that I cannot.
Sticking the note to the inside of the door, he slipped noiselessly away toward the entrance to his suite.
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A bit long for one of mine, but I didn't want to break this one up. And yes, Ranma had a rather easy time resisting “temptation,” but it wasn't much of a challenge — pitting abandoning her manhood and honor and risking the future of the Tendos against avoiding the killing a man that's dangerously insane for the impossible future that would require? Not a chance.
Oh, and Ryoga's accusation about maneuvers and Pluto's response is lifted practically whole from The Tyrant, by David Drake and S. M. Stirling, the last of their Raj & Center series (an excellent collection, both the five books of “The General” and the three follow-ups of a sort.