Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Distance ❯ Chapter 29 ( Chapter 29 )

The park had only a few lights on this close to midnight. Takahiro had not been specific as to where to meet him, and the sway of the cherry trees in the night breeze cast confusing shadows around. The park was huge, and Ranma had only passed by it on his way out of the train station five minutes away.

He'd taken that train here tonight from Nerima. He could almost hear the officers from Kita, assembled by Kentaro. After his promotion earlier that week, he was quick to get a team ready to work under him. They were in the empty park now, moving almost silently through the cherry trees, currently not in bloom, their green leaves black in the evening.

The men and women of Kentaro's team were fanned out on either side of him, as he walked down one of the central paths in the mountain park. Ranma's nerves were already frayed, and the thought of not being able to find Akane before… something happened made him want to vomit. He tried not to be frantic in his search, tried to be methodical. He paused at the entrance to a children's playground. He studied the cone-shaped jungle gym, the fake boat buried in the sand, the small locomotive that children could ride with their parents around the park.

He froze. There was one light on in the playground, right by the train, as if to make sure he saw. Tied up, gagged and blindfolded against a wooden pillar that held up the slatted roof that sat above the train was Makoto, and next to her was Akane. She wasn't tied up to a pillar, but her hands were bound and she was blindfolded and gagged. She kneeled on the sand, in a tank top and shorts that were not adequate for the chilly evening - as if to punctuate this, a cool breeze blew, and Ranma unconsciously shivered. Takahiro was in front of her, but from the angle Ranma could easily see her face and his in the light. She wasn't crying, but she wasn't screaming or shouting around her gag either. Akane hardly even seemed to be breathing.

Probably because Takahiro was creepily stroking her hair, occasionally gripping his hands into it. Ranma heard the slight crackle of one of the officers stepping on a twig in the cherry trees behind him, and he took that opportunity to move forward and confront Takahiro, before something worse happened to Akane or her roommate.

Glancing around quickly for the other members of the Arai family, Ranma started to walk. He saw a body lying in the sand by the little boat as he approached the scene in front of him, and knew before he could even see the man's face that it was Toya. He was hogtied, head turned to the side, hair matted with blood. Ranma prayed silently that he was alive.

“Takahiro.” The kidnapper didn't turn around, insultingly keeping his back to Ranma as he continued to stroke Akane's hair. She twisted away from his hand and her face turned in the direction of Ranma's voice. Ranma put his hand out, palm down, trying to calm her, and then remembered she couldn't see him, and put his hand limply and uselessly by his side.

He had to get Takahiro talking. Had to distract him.

Takahiro finally turned, and Ranma saw what was in his other hand. A gun, of course a gun, what else would he threaten Ranma's violent tomboy of an ex-fiancée with besides a damn hand cannon?

“Ranma Saotome,” Takahiro said flatly, “welcome. You're going to die.” The arm with the gun raised.

“Really?” Ranma said quietly. Akane looked like she was going to leap to her feet and spear tackle Takahiro, he saw her legs tense; Ranma willed her to be still. “Whyzzat?” he asked lazily.

“Because you've insulted my family.” Takahiro's voice quavered, just a little, and Ranma smirked.

“You mean I insulted you,” Ranma said mockingly; Takahiro wasn't going to shoot him, not yet, he wanted revenge, not just Ranma's death, “c'mon Takahiro. Yer pissed `cause yer girlfriend wants me an' not you,” he let the smirk widen into a smile, “I'm her cute ex-fiancée.”

Takahiro's face twisted into an ugly snarl. He reached behind and fisted his hand in Akane's hair. To her credit, she didn't make a sound, even when he hauled her to her feet by said hair. Ranma winced; he wanted to rush over and shove Takahiro's face into the sand until he was buried in it. But he couldn't act. He had to wait, the police had said, until the Arai family arrived on the scene. He had to wait.

It wasn't easy. Akane let out a small sound, muffled around the gag, when Takahiro let her hair go. He flattened his hand against her head and stroked down all the way to her shoulder, keeping the gun trained on Ranma with a rock-steady hand, not looking at his captive. Makoto made no noise, appearing unconscious. Ranma glanced at Toya again - he hadn't moved.

“Yes, you insult me even now,” Takahiro grated out, “thinking you can even fucking speak to me.” He used his hand to rip his dress shirt open. On his chest coiled a massive tattoo of a red dragon, the tail disappearing around his back. “But I am Sakaume-gumi, and you are nothing but trash.”

Ranma tried to look as unimpressed as possible. However, before he could respond to the insult, a thought struck him. He smirked. “Oh, really? Where are the rest of yer boys then, Takahiro? You obviously didn't pull this all off on yer own…” he trailed off tauntingly.

The insult was plain as day. Takahiro snapped his fingers sharply, still keeping the gun pointed at Ranma's face. Akane winced - his fingers were right next to her ear.

From behind the jungle gym stepped Kyoya, wearing a suit that actually fit him. Someone had been stupid enough to give the kid a katana. Ranma tried to bite back a bark of laughter, even has his intestines turned into water. A gun and a blade, two things an unarmed martial artist did not want to deal with. “I helped him.” Kyoya said evenly; he had a bandage over the hand that didn't hold the katana, and Ranma noted that his index finger looked a little shorter than usual.

Takahiro's eyes seemed wild. “See, the Sakaume-gumi are at my beck and call.” He hissed.

“Brother.” Takahiro started. Ichiro came up from the opposite end of the playground, an expression of distaste as he walked his expensive-looking shoes through the sand. “Father would like you to stop with this foolishness and come home. There are things we need to discuss.” His voice was slick and sharp. Takahiro watched his brother approach.

There was a signal Ranma was supposed to wait for. In the event that Yamato himself did not make an appearance, Ranma was to wait for this signal and then spring into some semblance of action - he was supposed to run away, but even when Kentaro was saying it, the look on his face betrayed that he knew Ranma wasn't going to do any such thing.

Takahiro and Ichiro fell into a terse argument whilst he watched. Akane switched from foot to foot. Her head was no longer turned in Ranma's direction, but he could see that she was listening for cues from him. His arm muscles felt cramped, too tight under his skin, and his breath had gone ragged - he was afraid, he realized as he watched Takahiro wave his gun around. He was afraid for Akane, and maybe, a tiny part of him squeaked, for himself.

Kyoya looked more nervous than someone carrying a deadly weapon should. He was twitching a little, and kept glancing back between his arguing brothers and his and Takahiro's captives.

A bird called. A small, soft night sound. At first Ranma didn't register the noise. But then he remembered the signal, and his body reacted. His eyes assessed the situation, possible outcomes of every potential action whirling through his brain even as he sprang into action.

Just as Takahiro pointed with the gun behind Ichiro, telling his brother to go back the way he'd come, eyes narrowed in rage, Ranma moved across the playground with the speed of a charging bear. Time shifted in his eyes, his senses, heightened by adrenaline and fear for his and his friends' safety, tuning in with something and making the world, for this important moment, seem to move at a slower pace.

Kyoya saw him move, came sweeping at Ranma with surprising accuracy, causing Ranma to re-evaluate the boy's skill with the ancient weapon. Instead of facing Kyoya head-on, Ranma took a risk. He kept moving, but as the sword came down to slice through his chest, Ranma tucked his legs up to his chest and fell like a stone. Pivoting his hips slightly up as he fell, he made sure that his momentum carried him across the shifting sand.

Right into Takahiro's legs. The gangster squeezed the trigger as a reflex, and the night erupted with lights and sound as the force of the Kita Police Department came out of the trees like avenging demons made of body armor and terror. Ranma knew they would take care of Kyoya at his back - had to have faith, at least, that Kyoya would be distracted enough by the flashlights and guns to not do anything else, anything stupider than attacking Ranma Saotome. Such as stabbing one of his friends.

Takahiro, true to his Capoeira training, fell and rolled onto his feet in a quick, catlike motion. His body was trained to deal with being thrown about, as the movements of Capoeira demanded, and he didn't even seem fazed by Ranma's collision with his legs.

His gun was suspiciously absent, however.

Ranma rocketed out from his crouched position, keeping low to the ground so that Takahiro couldn't use any good kicks on him, or a leg sweep. The Kita officers were running across the park now, heading straight for them. But they didn't have the area surrounded.

And they didn't know where the gun was. Ranma, as he twisted to come up on his hands and do a pair of front ball kicks to Takahiro's face, saw Ichiro pick up the gun. He aimed it casually at Akane's head, like he was preparing to water his roses with lead.

“DUCK!” Ranma screamed as loud as he could, feeling his feet connect, feeling slower than molasses despite the energy coursing through him like mad wasps. He kicked out once more before Takahiro could recover, wrenching his body around and driving a hammer fist into Takahiro's temple.

As he whipped his head back around, he realized just how much Akane's training must have improved her reaction time and senses. Her blindfolded head tucked to her chest and she let out a loud shout behind her gag, barreling right into Ichiro's stomach and eliciting a loud “oof” from him. The gun went off, but Akane's shoulder came up, bumping his hand out of position so that the shot went wild - she must have remembered Makoto behind her.

The bullet imbedded itself in the roof of the train house. Akane kept moving, dropping to the ground and sweeping out with her legs, taking Ichiro down. Then she rolled and used the force behind that roll to drive a knee into his throat that might have, might have, been meant for his chest.

The satisfied look on her blinded, muted face said otherwise.

It all happened so quickly, that Ranma stumbled when he realized Akane was safe, time speeding back up to normal. He skidded to a stop in front of her as she stood up from her crouch and her groaning victim. Ranma suddenly remembered Kyoya, and turned worriedly around to face the potential threat.

He was already on his knees, one hand being cuffed behind his back, sword laying abandoned, gleaming in the sand. Ranma looked around at the officers who had finally reached them, smiling happily, almost laughing with glee and relief. He was shoved politely aside as someone moved to arrest Ichiro properly.

“Mmph mm mnmn!” Akane mumbled behind her gag. Ranma started and pulled her gently over to stand near Makoto. He shucked off her blindfold, a suit tie, he realized, and she blinked rapidly in the bright flash lights. “Mmph!” she mumbled again.

“Naw, I think I like ya' better gagged— oof, ok, ok…” he wheezed as she pulled her knee away from his side, laughing a little. He wanted to cry and hug her at the same time, so he settled for untying her gag and her hands with his own shaking so bad he thought they might spontaneously fall apart.

“I said, nice work Ranma,” she said softly, looking at him as he righted himself from untying her, rubbing her red wrists, “you always save me.”

He smiled at her. “Naw, I don' think ya' really needed that much savin',” he jutted his thumb at Makoto before setting about undoing her blindfold and gag, “her on the other hand.”

“Hey,” Makoto mumbled dryly, looking dazedly at him, “I'm no damsel…” her words sounded slurred, and Ranma inspected her eyes, holding her head while Akane undid the silk rope binding her wrists.

“You might be drugged…” he muttered, patting her cheek a little. She giggled, eyes rolling back in her head, and Ranma smelled alcohol and something sour on her breath. “Ew…”

“Toya!” Akane's shout brought Ranma to attention, and he settled Makoto carefully on the ground.

“Hey…” she mumbled again. Ranma stopped halfway to Toya's body, Akane reaching him as he turned around to look at Makoto. But Kentaro was already there in all his gear and glory, pulling her against his chest tenderly, shushing her. She giggled and grabbed the back of his helmet, kissing him sloppily, earning her a surprised, if muffled, yelp. She pulled away with a pop. “My savior!” she cried lazily.

Ranma laughed, then remembered the unconscious Toya. He turned and saw Akane had untied him and carefully rolled him over. She was administering CPR.

“Akane… Akane…” Ranma said quietly, his voice quavering. He watched her as she counted her compressions, then breathed into Toya's open mouth, tears leaking down her face. “He ain't breathin'?”

“I think he has, one… two… sand… four… in his… five… mouth!” she took in a deep breath and breathed into his open mouth again, then squealed when he coughed into her face.

“Nabiki…” he mumbled in a distinctly Makoto-like fashion. Ranma rolled his eyes.

“Either they're drunk or drugged,” Ranma said at Akane's confused look, “c'mon, we gotta get a paramedic on these two.”

“I'll take care of it, get your girlfriend outta here, kid.” Ranma looked up at the officer who had addressed him and nodded.

“Uh, yeah,” he said quietly, not denying anything as he put his arm around Akane's shoulders.

They started out of the park, amidst a swarm of police and medical technicians. Akane was leaning against him heavily, but he was leaning on her quite a bit, too. The adrenaline rush had left him feeling drained. He turned his head slightly to smell her air, frowning as he caught faint traces of Takahiro's cologne.

“I need a shower…” Akane whispered as they reached the street. Ranma looked around, suddenly realizing they had no way home; there wasn't a bus that was running this late past the park.

“Hey, Ranma, over here!” Ranma whipped his head around, saw a vaguely familiar shape under a nearby streetlamp and smiled. Kenichi stood leaning against a Nerima patrol car. As Ranma approached him, he sucked one last time on the cigarette he was smoking and then put it out against the bottom of his shoe, flicking the butt into a nearby trashcan.

“Hey, Kenichi, this is Akane Tendou. The uh… `kidnap victim.'” Akane rolled her eyes at him, and smiled, if a little shakily.

Akane bowed to Kenichi, but took her time straightening back up, wincing and rubbing her back. “He had me kneeling in the sand for a while…” she muttered apologetically.

“Jeez, get in the car,” Kenichi sounded exasperated, but his chubby face held genuine concern as he helped Akane into the front seat; then he turned his expression on Ranma, “good job.”

Ranma smirked. “Thanks.”

“I heard the whole thing, on the radio,” Kenichi's expression was serious, “Kentaro told me what you did, told me to wait for you.”

Ranma walked over and hugged him. Kenichi stiffened in surprise, and then returned the embrace. Akane giggled from inside the car, despite her ordeal, and the two men pulled back embarrassedly. Kenichi coughed, rubbing the back of his head, tears in his eyes. “Ranma…” he trailed off uncomfortably.

“Aw, c'mon old man,” Ranma said jovially, punching Kenichi in the arm lightly, “y'can call me anytime.” He smiled cockily. “I know how much you love me.”

Kenichi stared at him for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “Get the hell in that car, kid, before I punch yer lights out.”

“As if you could,” Ranma retorted, but he got in the car next to Akane.

“I'm gonna punch your lights out in a second,” Ranma looked at her quickly, and she smirked, “if you don't shut the hell up - I've got a headache.”

Ranma looked her over for the first time in the dimness of the lights in the back of the patrol car. Kenichi left them on, along with the siren, as he took directions from Akane to her apartment.

Her face had a large bruise on the left side, like she'd fallen on her face into someone's fist a few times. Her lip was split as well, and the wound was just starting to turn black. He poked and prodded at her worriedly, and she winced and tried to push his hands away. “Y'need a doctor, too.” He said logically.

“No I don't - he can't even hit that hard.” Ranma's arms went rigid at the thought of Takahiro's fists connecting with her face. Over and over, to create that bruise. Akane looked at him, wide-eyed. “Ranma, you're hurting my shoulders…” she squeaked. Ranma let her go as though he'd touched a wet cat.

“Gah, sorry… I jus'… wish I'd called y'sooner, or come over, or…” he trailed off when she put a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up and give me a hug, Ranma.” He smiled and obliged, hugging her in the backseat of the patrol car as Kenichi smiled at them knowingly in the rearview mirror.