Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Together Again ( Chapter 63 )

I originally published this 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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Usagi and Akane stared at the screaming women piled on top of the Kuno heir, struggling against each other, scratches covering them where their fingernails had gouged long strips. Usagi was trying to fight down a giggling fit, and Akane had to admit that under other circumstances she would have found the sight hilarious. But now she felt nothing but burning impatience wrapped around a solid core of fear. They were in the way!

Stepping forward, she grabbed the woman on top of the mess by the arm and yanked her from her position to spill across the floor. It was as if she had popped the tab of a shaken soda, as several others rolled down as well, knocking the Kuno heir off her feet, and even as her first target rolled to her feet and raced down the hall the pile unraveled as the rest followed.

A blushing Kodachi got to her feet. “Not my finest moment, I will admit ...” Her voice trailed off as Akane ignored her, striding past the ponytailed young woman into the room beyond.

“Ranma!” the youngest Tendo shouted as she broke into a run, slamming into the naked redhead just struggling to her feet. Ranma tried to step backward, caught her foot on the body of the strange man behind her and fell backward, taking Akane with her.

“Ouch! Tomboy, that hurt, ya — oomph!” Ranma started to complain, only to break off as Akane smothered her with kisses.

After a few minutes, Kodachi coughed to get their attention. “I know you're happy to see each other, but we really need to get moving,” she said reluctantly.

The two rolled apart, blushing furiously. Akane hastily rose to her feet and turned to find Ranma struggling to join her, stumbling slightly and fighting for balance, a battle almost lost again when Usagi stepped over and pulled her assigned mistress into a tight embrace. The younger blonde was barely able to keep them both on their feet; the way the Ranma had stiffened and Usagi was shivering didn't help. “Ranma, what's wrong?” Akane asked, unable to keep her worry out of her voice She grabbed Usagi's shoulder to steady the two.

“Drugged,” Ranma replied, voice muffled by Usagi's shoulder, her arms cautiously circling the Juubanite.

“Drugged? !” Kodachi exclaimed from where she'd caught Ranma by the arm to help keep her and Usagi upright. “What did they do to —” the Kuno heir started to ask, then broke off as she glanced at the padded table beside them in the middle of the room.

As Usagi reluctantly let her mistress go, a still blushing Ranma's eyes followed Kodachi's gaze. “It wasn't what it looks like! The Mentalist was playing with my mind, not me!”

“Who was?” Kadachi asked, then looked down at the body by their feet, its head twisted around to look over its shoulder. “Nevermind. What are the symptoms?”

“Uh, I was pretty groggy when they were givin' it to me,” Ranma replied, nodding toward the gas canister with the still faintly hissing plastic tube and mask attached. Kodachi strode over to it and sniffed cautiously from several feet away, eyebrows going up, before closing the tank's valve. Ranma continued, “That's pretty much worn off, I think, but I still got vertigo, an' I can't seem to touch my ki — it's still there, I can feel it, but every time I try ta do anything with it, it just seems ta ... ooze away, sorta.”

“Hmmm.” Kodachi frowned thoughtfully. “I don't recognize the effect. Most unfortunate, from what you say it would have been useful when we were still playing. I doubt there will be any permanent effects, you should be fine with time. Still, we don't have time to wait.”

“Right,” Akane agreed, running her eyes over her sometime lover's naked body, fighting to ignore the way Ranma's inner thighs glistened slightly and the faint hint of musk in the air, then looked around the room. “Where did they put your clothes? And why did they strip you —” She broke off, deciding she didn't want an answer, not yet. Her fingers quickly worked their way from button to button down the front of her blouse. “Nevermind. Here, put this on. The arms will be a little long and you won't be able to button it all the way up, not with your chest,” she added with a twinge of old jealousy, “but at least it'll cover everything, and should be long enough if you don't do anything too energetic.” She pulled the blouse out of her skirt and shrugged it off to hand it to Ranma, leaving her in her skirt and bra.

Ranma got one arm in its sleeve easily enough, struggled with the other before getting it in place with her assigned slave's help, but simply could not make her fingers cooperate enough to button up the front. Finally, Akane gently pushed Ranma's hands out of the way and took over, feeling the redhead shiver at her touch.

As Ranma stared down at the hands working their way up her front, what she could see of them, she asked with stilted nonchalance, “An' where's Kuno? I gotta date with him.”

Akane stiffened as rage flashed through her. For a moment, the world around her seemed to take on a reddish tinge. Don't, not yet. Ranma needs you, you can rant later. Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax before resuming buttoning up the shirt, she replied, “Don't push yourself, we'll get to that murdering nutcase soon enough.”

Ranma's eyes whipped up to stare at her. “D'ya mean that — about Kuno?” she demanded.

Akane had to stop again as she shook with rage, and this time not because of Nerima's delusional lord. Do not pound on Ranma, not after everything he's gone through, no matter how much of a baka he is! “Of course, I do!” she shouted, stepping back. “Ranma, you know how I feel about all him! Why would you think I've changed my mind?”

It was Ranma's turn to throw herself forward to slam into a full body-hug of Akane, though this time the youngest Tendo managed to keep them both on their feet. Ranma was gasping “He lied! He lied!” into her ear over and over.

Akane's hesitantly wrapped her arms around the smaller girl clutching at her, her anger drowning in her rising confusion and the feel of moisture on her neck where Ranma's head was pressed. “Who lied?” she asked. “Are you crying?”

Ranma stiffened and broke away, staggering slightly and dropping her gaze to hide her face as she wiped at her eyes and fought to bring her breathing under control. Usagi stepped behind her and put her arms around her waist. Ranma said, “He ... he s-said he'd gotten to ya first, played with yer mind so you were in love with Kuno.” She nodded at the corpse. “He didn't?”

“No, he didn't,” Akane replied, shamefaced as the last of her anger flickered out. “Kuno's thugs grabbed me at a train station, I woke up here in some kind of jail cell. I don't think I'd remember that if he'd been at me, and I still want Kuno dead. Sorry for yelling at you.”

“No problem,” Ranma said. She paused for a moment, then added, “He said that Ukyo was dead, an' Konatsu an' the Amazons, an' that they were attacking the dojo. Did he lie about that, too?”

Akane froze and closed her eyes, only to instantly open them again as her last sight of the adopted Saotome flashed across her mind's eye — the brunette's body lying face-up on top of the corpse of one of her assassins, a knife hilt sticking out of her side and two bloody wounds in her chest from the spears Akane had just pulled out. “No, he didn't lie, not about Ukyo. She's dead.”

“So are the Amazons,” Kodachi added. “Video of the hole where the Cat Café used to be has been uploaded to the network. The explosion was so large that it brought down all the buildings around it. According to Hanh-chan, Konatsu-san is dead, as well. But she said that it was Pyo-san that ordered the attacks, not my brother — a preemptive strike when Tatewaki ordered that Akane-san be brought here. She didn't know how the attack on the dojo went.”

“Hey, where is Hanh-chan?” Usagi demanded over Ranma's shoulder.

Kodachi's face lost all expression. “Don't ... don't ask,” she said, voice suddenly harsh.

Akane glanced at Ranma and Usagi. The blonde was confused, but regret warred with loss in Ranma's eyes. Like her fiancée, the redhead had instantly guessed what must have happened, when the young ninja that Akane could barely remember from their only meeting on top of a warehouse roof had found her sense of honor clashing with friendship.

Ranma straightened, and gently broke away from Usagi's embrace. “Thanks, Usagi-chan, but I think I can walk by myself, now.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “So we take care of Pyo-san, too, an' then see what's left. Come on, let's get this over with.”

/oOo\

Setsuna frowned in consideration as her little group cautiously moved into the mansion, her bodyguards in front and behind, and the two teams of ninjas taking up the lead and the rear. When she had made her plans she had forgotten the Kuno ninjas returning from the Tendo strike — and she hadn't expected the glider police to do so well. As a result, she was probably ahead of schedule. In this case, it would be much better to be late than early. And it would give her a chance to provide for the wounded waiting for help, that could be useful in days to come as well.

“Chihiro-san, hold up for a moment,” she called out softly.

The team in front halted, all but its middle-aged leader keeping their attention on the corridor in front of them. The team in the rear was doing the same, except for its leader; she stepped forward past Setsuna's bodyguard to join her fellow team leader and the fashion designer in the center.

“A change of plans,” Setsuna said when the two ninjas had joined her. “My meeting with the Kuno head is urgent, but not that urgent and I can't stop thinking of your wounded waiting for supplies. I doubt the hospital will be eager to send help on such an ... uneasy night, so, Chihiro-san, your team and my people and I will help carry supplies back out to Chae-san. And now that I think of it, considering how quiet the streets were throughout our approach, the tanks' haulers can probably join us safely enough. We can use them to transport the worst of the wounded to the hospital. I should have thought of that earlier, I'm sorry,” she added somewhat shamefacedly.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Meioh-san, you aren't trained for war,” Chihiro replied. “But you've thought of it now, give me a moment to speak with Chae-san.” He stepped to the side and murmured into his mic.

Setsuna was grateful for the long practice that kept her expression stoic in the face of her deepening shame. It wasn't lack of training, not with her millennia of experience, but her focus on her goal to the point that she tended to see everyone around her as threats, pawns, or irrelevant. Maybe an extended vacation after this mess is over? If this works out as I hope, I can use my new position to `coincidentally' encounter Michiru, and through her Haruka and Hotaru. Being able to spend time with them in public, and not just in the privacy of our home would be the most fun I've had in centuries.

For a moment she lost herself in daydreams of an American tour with her new, secret family: historic sites, national parks, and amusement parks. It would be safe with a minimal bodyguard — the Americans took a very dim view of Japanese nobility importing their private wars to their pure republics. The last time a daimyo had been assassinated on American soil, along with a few innocent bystanders, the United States Congress had mandated an embargo on all commercial contacts of any sort with every enemy of the murdered daimyo that the US Foreign Intelligence Agency had been able to unearth (a surprisingly through list) — and that embargo had not just applied to US companies, but to any company that wanted to do business in the US market. The then-Shogun's ambassador had finally convinced the Congress to relent, but the damage the Empire's economy had taken in the meantime had been enough for that Shogun to declare any future assassinations on US soil to be treason against the Empire. And that had paradoxically made the United States the place for the Clans and Families to get away from it all for a while.

Setsuna was in the middle of fantasizing about Hotaru's reaction to an especially luxurious theme park, when her daydream was interrupted by a soft cough from Chihiro. The ninja gave the fashion designer a moment to focus (and banish the soft smile from her face). When Setsuna's eyes focused on her, she said, “Chae-san has approved the change in plans, with her thanks. It seems your Lieutenant Shinohara already thought of using the tank haulers as you suggested, but was unwilling to risk their safety even with things as quiet as they appear. He's sent four of the tanks back to escort them in.”

Setsuna nodded acknowledgment. “Good. So, where are the medical supplies stored?”

/oOo\

Kuno stood in the middle of the command center, maintaining his stoic façade while worry twisted in his gut and his thoughts continued their circling about the question of whether to stay or go. Something had gone wrong, perhaps badly. Not one of the courageous retainers that he had sent to pull back their compatriots from their assigned posts had returned, even as faint echoes of destruction had reached his ears, grown louder, until the sound of the desecration of the home of his ancestors filled the air.

Not had he been alone all this time, a number of rude (in all senses of the word) strangers had found him. Most, though, had either been overcome by shame at the thought of attacking their lord, or possessed the intelligence to understand how much greater were his accomplishments in the martial arts. But most were not all, and the corpse of the traitor Pyo had been joined by several men and one woman, pawns of the vile sorcerer that had thought to match their martial prowess against his own, and blood coated the room's floor to the extent that his footing was becoming treacherous.

Finally, Nerima's lord sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. They will not be returning, he thought despairingly. He could not understand how a riotous mob had come over the wall fast enough to overwhelm the valiant defenders of his home, but it had become patently obvious that they had. There was no point in waiting any longer.

And then a chant went up, growing in intensity as in volume, second to second from within the depths of the mansion and coming ever nearer: the name of his hated nemesis, he was here!

Kuno began to stride forward, only to find himself fighting to stay upright as his feet slipped in the blood pooling on the floor. Recovering his balance, he stared thoughtfully at the streaks his efforts had smeared in the red, a vicious smile crossing his face. Ever has it been my foe's ability to evade my righteous wrath that has prevented me from enforcing true justice on the demon spawn ... but here, now, any such attempt would undoubtedly see him spilled on the floor, open to my avenging blade! Yes, he decided, here was the place to meet Ranma.

Then the chant dimmed, and four figures turned the corner into the hallway leading to the command center — and Kuno's thoughts of glorious vengeance stuttered to a halt at the sight of the two girls that had been the center of his world for over two years.