Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Nezumi ❯ The Spider Strikes ( Chapter 6 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: SoulSurvivor 
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama / Horror / Martial Arts / Occult / Supernatural / Thriller | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.07.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 673 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama / Horror / Martial Arts / Occult / Supernatural / Thriller | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.07.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 673 | Status: Completed
Nezumi
Chapter 6
by Soul Survivor
---
Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.
---
Of all the lessons learned in her century plus lifespan, meditation was one that Cologne employed the most. It allowed her to make sense of the daily madness that surrounded her, as well as deal with it without resorting to homicide... Usually.
*Smash!* "Stupid!" *Crunch!* "Pervert boy!" *Thud!* "Need bother!" *Wham!* "Someone else!" *Crash!* "AND NO COME BACK!"
Even one hundred and more years of practice was being challenged by the strangeness around her of late. From Tsubasa's current fixation on Shampoo to the Kuno boy's sudden interest in chinese food to the strangeness in Mousse's behavior, things were getting weirder by the moment. The Kuno boy was a mystery in and of himself, having become very quiet of late as well as not sleeping well at all. From the way he acted, it seemed as if he were waiting for something, and the haunted expression on his face indicated that whatever he was waiting for could not be good.
Then there was Tsubasa... While she did not know all that much about the little pervert, what she did know was that he was supposed to be obsessed with Ukyo, not Shampoo.
That all of this coincided with son-in-law's recent illness and attack on Ryouga was not lost on her. Ryouga's memory loss was no coincidence either. It was indicative of one who had witnessed a shape-changers war-form and suffered the effects of the Delirium, the insanity brought about by humanity's instinctive terror of the shifting breeds. Only those of Were blood were immune, and she was quite positive that that did not include Ryouga.
The Tendo girl on the other hand... Her account of son-in-law becoming a furred monster was music to the matriarch's ears. She had seen the potential in his aura on their first meeting, and the hope of producing a full blooded Kahn warrior in her lifetime was born anew.
When her great-granddaughter had turned out to be mere kinfolk, she had been devastated. All those years of training wasted, all her hopes for naught... Then Shampoo had gone and gotten defeated by an outsider male with what looked to be excellent breeding, the mark of the shifting breeds strong in his aura.
Then, of course, there was the Neko-ken... While there was the possibility of a non-Kahn learning it, it was a slim one at best, the Cat spirit being quite particular about whom She bestowed Her gifts upon. The claw marks on Ryouga's body told her all she needed to know; she was certain that the boy was Kahn, and that was the best news she'd had all decade.
Mousse, on the other hand, troubled her greatly. The marks in his aura were of a variety she was not entirely familiar with, and they were getting stronger on a daily basis. Add to that his uncanny ability to detect Tsubasa, regardless of his disguise, and it became clear that the blind boy was fast becoming an unknown quantity, something she did not like at all.
Interrupted from her musings by the renewed violence that heralded Tsubasa's return, she wondered whether she should have simply let Mousse kill him to begin with.
*************************
Everyone has their sanctuary, the place they go when they need some peace and quiet, for Kodachi, that was her garden. Normally, the heady scent of her black roses would calm her, allow her to think and plan. Normally... Today, all the ebony blooms did was depress her further.
This was her third day on her medication, her third day of sanity, as it were. Gone was her accustomed leotard and ribbon, in its place was a subdued green kimono. Gone was her lethal gymnastic equipment, replaced by schoolbooks and study, making up for years of sliding by on only her family name in a private school. But also gone with them was the brightness, the color in her life, replaced by a drab mundaneity she could scarcely handle.
Time and time again, she was tempted to simply toss her pills in the wastebasket, to escape the colorless world and return to her former life, but one thing stopped her. This world, colorless and drab as it was, was reality, her former life simply a dream. The things she had experienced in her delusional state, that had seemed so real, faded to nothing in the harsh light of sanity, and she knew that she had come way too close to hurting or killing others in her madness.
Then there was Ranma... She shuddered to think of the things she had done to him and those around him in her pursuit. Attacking his fiancee, trying to hill the red-haired girl, someone who could only be his sister, what with the strong family resemblance and same family name. Using so many drugs and poisons on him, any one of which could have been lethal in excess, tricking him, tormenting him and those around him... It was no wonder that he wanted nothing to do with her... And that hurt most of all, for the one thing the pills did not change were her feelings for him. She loved him still, and it was a love she now knew went unreturned.
***************
The nights in Mt. Terror are full of life, at least to those with senses sharp enough to discern it. While his father's sonorous snores did wonders to drown out the sounds, the scents pervading the woods were driving Ranma insane. From the damp smell of the underbrush to the varied musks of the local wildlife, this was one aspect of being Nezumi that he could do without.
Finally, after tossing and turning for better than an hour, inspiration struck. Slipping out of his bedroll, he dug his canteen out of his pack, quietly uncapping it, he dumped its contents on the sleeping form of his father, eliciting little more than a slight hitch in the older man's snores as his curse activated.
Taking a deep sniff, he smiled in satisfaction before returning to his bedroll and falling immediately asleep. After almost a year of living with it, the odor of damp panda fur was one he could deal with.
Ranma found himself surrounded in mist, the chittering voices that haunted his sleep louder than ever. Slowly the mist cleared and he found himself in the hilltop clearing where he had first encountered Rat, and after a moment, most of the remaining mist coalesced into the form of Rat herself.
Despite everything his father had told him, despite even his own misgivings, in her presence all he felt was safe and loved. Steeling himself, he faced her, determined to be master of his own fate.
"Look... Ermm... Well..." Words failing him, all he could do was stand there, his determination failing in the face of her presence. Finally, She spoke.
"Relax, young warrior, and set your mind at ease. I know what troubles you, and while out of content, much of what your father has told you of us is the truth. For most Nezumi, their duty is to cull the masses of humanity, to keep them in check. I also know that you are ill suited for said task. Rest assured, young one, the low war of your brethren is not your lot. No, Fate, it seems, has a different plan for you, a different plan indeed."
Feeling a wave of relief wash over him, Ranma took a moment before responding.
"So... If I'm not in with this Low War thing, what then? Why make me like this? And why didn't you tell me about this Low War business to begin with? What exactly do you want from me?"
Rat's chuckle was pleasant, that of a parent dealing with a small child's innocent questions.
"All will be revealed in good time, young one, all in good time. For now, however, it is time to begin your training."
This caught Ranma's attention immediately.
"'Training'? Err... This wouldn't involve c-c-c-cats and fish sausage, would it?"
Apparently, even a furred rodent's face can display confusion.
"Ahh... Nooo. Why do you ask?"
"Heh... No reason... Just checking... So! What sort of training did you have in mind?"
A portion of the remaining mist coalesced into a small rodent, which hopped onto Rat's shoulder and eyed him appraisingly as Rat responded.
"This is the Kangaroo Rat. Hers is the secret of mighty leaps and bounds, a secret she will share with you this evening."
Nonplussed, Ranma eyed the tiny rodent, debating on whether or not he should mention his school's specialization. Finally, shaking his head in amusement, he grinned at his diminutive sensei.
"Riiight. Well then... Let's see what ya got."
Much, much later, as dawn approached, two questions were prevalent in his mind. First, why was it, that the smaller the teacher, the bigger the hardass they were? And second, when the HELL was he going to learn that his foot did NOT belong in his mouth?
*************
As the sun rose over Nerima, Ichiro came to a decision. He had waited long enough, the time for the first part of his vengeance was at hand. Today, the old bitch would pay the first installment on her debt to him. Today her great-granddaughter would die.
Leaving Konatsu with orders to run the restaurant as usual, he made his way to the Nekohaten, shedding his Ukyo disguise as he left the Ucchan. Arriving at his destination, he noted that the boy who had been practically living there for the past two days had already arrived and was sitting in his customary corner booth. No matter, though, he could be dealt with easily. The same went for the busboy who was busily wiping tables. Those two would fall to the Delirium as easily as the former owner of his current lair had, leaving only the crone and her spawn for him to deal with. Ahh, to see the look on the old bitch's face when he drank his fill from her precious great-grandchild... Vengeance was indeed a dish best served cold.
Ignoring Shampoo for the moment, he focused his attention on the crone, addressing her in flawless Mandarin.
"Greetings, Ku-Lon of the Joketsozuku. Do you remember who I am?"
Eyeing him warily, the old woman shook her head after a moment before responding in the same language.
"To be honest, no, I do not... I know I have seen you before, but I could not say when or where."
"More's the pity then, crone, more's the pity. I remember you quite well, 'Protector of the Amazons', quite well indeed."
Her danger sense flaring, Cologne eyed her guest closely before responding.
"It has been many years since I have used that title, stranger... How is it that you are so familiar with me?"
Chuckling, he slowly let himself dissolve into his War-Form, laughing out loud as recognition finally lit her feature, along with a touch of fear.
"Yesss... Now you remember me, don't you... Now you remember me... And now you pay, yess, now you pay."
Lashing out with a clawed forelimb, he held a futilely struggling Shampoo aloft before him by her hair. He writhed with glee as he watched the old bitch attempt assuming her War-Form, attempt and fail.
"You're too old for that, bitch, too old by far... I, however, I am ssstill in my pri- ack!"
Without warning, the girl was snatched from his grasp by... Nothing? Turning, he received a face full of knives, shuriken, yo-yo's, chains, and a duck training potty, as the girl floated well out of his reach and alighted on the floor at the other end of the restaurant. The busboy, instead of being frozen in terror, was facing him, a look of fury upon his face. Chains hung from his sleeves like streamers of ribbons from a party favor, and his coke bottle glasses glinted from their perch on top of his head.
Then from the left came another attack, the other boy, also unaffected by the Delirium was moving forward, his bokken blurring in a series of thrusts, the air pressure of which were beginning to pulp the spiders that made up his body. Worse, the old crone was attacking also, her walking stick moving even faster than his eyes could follow.
The realization that he had seriously underestimated his prey did little more than fuel the rage building inside of him as, with a roar of primal fury, he returned to the offensive. Rage granting him speed and strength far beyond his oppressors, he lashed out at the old crone, striking her several times before she could react, the impacts flinging her ass over elbows into the kitchen area.
Another series of blows sent the bokken wielding boy flying into a wall, allowing Ichiro to focus on his primary threat, Mousse. Spinning, he grabbed for the busboy's chains, intending to string him up with them, and received another shock as they sprang away from him, seemingly of their own volition.
The myopic boy stood facing him, his body between the enraged Kumo and Shampoo. His chains floated about him, writhing like angered serpents, one or another striking out, keeping Ichiro at bay for the moment.
"An amusssing trick, mageling... But, how long can you keep it up?"
Ichiro could see the exhaustion on the boy's face, he knew that in a matter of moments the strain of keeping his chains moving would wear the boy down. It was simply a waiting game, then he would kill them all, the girl first, so the mageling could watch her die.
Sensing the old bitch, he turned his attention her direction in time to easily catch the object she had hurled at him. Looking at his hand, he found himself holding... A melon?
Kuno was in agony. The pounding he had received was worse than anything Saotome had ever done to him, in either form. He doubted his ability to even stagger back to his feet, let alone resume the fight against whatever that monster was. Suddenly, the pain was washed from his limbs, as his body was filled with a holy purpose. Tatewaki Kuno was once again the mighty Blue Thunder. The fruit that he hated beyond anything else in this world filling his vision, he charged.
Ichiro's only warning was an inarticulate howl of insane fury as the maddened Kendoist plowed into him. Moving with a speed and skill that defied description, the Blue Thunder assaulted his hated foe, paying no attention at all to the creature that held it, until said creature attempted to block him in his holy quest. Then, that creature, obviously in league with the hated fruit, became his target as well, something to be exterminated, obliterated... Destroyed!
It was at this point that Ichiro decided to retreat. The Kendoist was in a full frenzy, ignoring damage done to him, the busboy, his bladed chains writhing, was moving in as well, and the crone, miraculously unharmed by his assault, was advancing, her body glowing with power. He had obviously underestimated them, and facing them stood a good chance of being a fatal mistake. Collapsing into his breed form, a mass of tiny spiders, he scattered to the four winds, fleeing for the moment.
When he had recovered from this mistake he would return, better informed and prepared to deal with the lot of them. Yes, they would all pay with their lives; he would kill them slowly, one by one, when they least expected it.
Cologne watched as the Kumo dissolved and scattered. Keeping her battle aura burning, she extended her senses. When she was sure he was gone, she let it drop, and felt the pain of her injuries wash over her as she leaned heavily on her staff, the weight of her years felt for the first time in her life.
Limping over to Mousse, who had collapsed in exhaustion upon Ichiro's exit, she tapped a few shiatsu points to better let his chi refresh him. Turning to Shampoo, she directed her to Kuno, who was finally feeling his injuries.
"Take him into the back and make him comfortable, I will deal with Mousse here."
As her great-granddaughter complied, Cologne sat herself by Mousse's prone form, focusing her attention on the boy's aura. The marks she had noted before were there, much more prominent now, as well as the well-defined mark of magic. That was what she had seen before, and now it made sense. The boy had finally come into his own, and just in the nick of time from the look of it.
How long she sat and studied his aura, she did not know, only becoming aware of her surroundings again when Shampoo cleared her throat.
"Great-grandmother... What just happened? What was that thing and how did it know you? What did Mousse just do? What is going on?"
Gently bopping Shampoo on the head for not speaking Japanese, she sighed before speaking.
"It is a very complicated story, child, one that will take some time to fully explain. Come, I will tell it to you as we clean up this mess."
Several hours later found the Nekohaten cleaned up but not open for business as a battered Cologne sat and shared tea with a stunned-looking Shampoo, an amazingly recovered Kuno, and a still exhausted-looking Mousse. At the moment, Kuno was finishing an explanation of his family's curse and his vision of Shampoo's murder.
"Aiyah... So that why you spend last three day here?"
"Aye... After the vision, what else could I do? It is the duty of a Samurai to defend others, and while my former delusions have seemingly gone for good, it is still a code that I strive to follow."
"That is something, sonny boy. How is it that you're no longer a raving psychotic? No offense intended, of course."
"None taken, Elder. I am sure that my ravings were a spectacle to behold... But, as to your question, I am not sure what happened... As best I can tell, my delusions began fading after witnessing the incident between Saotome and Ryouga. It seems that the horrific vision I had afterward has burned the delusion from my mind. Instead, I now get very little sleep..."
The edge in Cologne's voice as she interrupted him caught his attention. Her posture had become almost hungry as she addressed him in a calculating tone.
"You were there for the fight? You witnessed his transformation? Tell me about it."
"You know of that?"
"Yes, actually. I have been expecting it for quite some time now."
At that, Kuno was suddenly half out of his seat, indignation heavy in his voice.
"And yet you mentioned nothing to him? Old one, do you have any idea how close Saotome came to taking his own life because of that? His becoming a half-rat monster nearly drove him -"
"Rat!?" The near hysterical tone of the matriarchs voice, belied her visage of detached curiosity. "Are you sure?"
Calming slightly, Kuno paused a moment to regain his dignity before responding.
"Of course I am sure, I was less than five meters away when it happened. That is beside the point, however... Methinks you have done him a grave disservice in keeping your silence on this matter. Someone could have been killed that day, honestly, had it been anyone other than the Hibiki boy... I do say madam, are you even listening to me?"
Her expression ageing her beyond even her years, Cologne's voice was distracted as she answered.
"I am listening, boy, and yes, perhaps keeping the matter to myself may have been a mistake, but, what's done, is done. I will speak to him when he and his father return. Now, however, it is perhaps best if you return home and get some rest. I very much doubt that the Kumo will return for a few days, and I have preparations to make."
As Kuno was headed out the door, he paused as Cologne spoke again.
"Know this also, your actions today will not be forgotten, Tatewaki Kuno. I am in your debt. Should you ever require the assistance of the Joketsozuku, simply ask for it."
Bowing formally, she closed the door behind him, then turned to those remaining.
"Shampoo, you go get some rest, I want to see if we can open for the evening crowd. Mousse, I need to have a word with you alone."
After Shampoo had gone to her room, Cologne eyed the myopic boy appraisingly for a moment, then poured him some tea.
"It seems that I underestimated you, Part Timer, something I will never do again, you can be sure of that. However, this leaves us in an interesting pickle if you would. The Matriarchs Council will be less than pleased to discover that the first Joketsozuku Magi born in over six hundred years is a mere male. Dont look at me like that boy, yes, I said Magi, because that is what you are."
Stirring the dregs in the bottom of her teacup, she seemed to come to a decision.
"When the mess with the Kumo is over and done with, you will challenge Shampoo. And THIS time, you will not hold back! I know that you dont like the idea of hurting her, boy, but you have no choice in the matter. You will challenge her, you will defeat her, and then you will marry her, thus the only Magi in the village is no longer fair game for any Matriarch to use in any given scheme"
Scraping his lower jaw off the table, Mousse eyed the Matriarch as if she'd grown a second head.
"I dont understand... You have spent most of my life telling me that I could not have her... Now you are practically ordering me to marry her? Not that Im complaining mind you, but what about Saotome's claim?"
The old woman's wry grin at Mousse's discomfiture slowly soured as she explained.
"Saotome's claim is being overridden by my authority as village Matriarch. As the saying goes, Rank Hath It's Privleges, and all that. As to why... Well, for once I will be frank. My family have been producing Kahn protectors for most of the three thousand years of Amazon history. And while bringing the first Magi born in half a millenia under my influence has its perks, it is still a secondary concern to my bloodline. There is no way, under any circumstances that I will taint three thousand years of Kahn heritage with the blood of a Rat! I dont care how talented he is, I dont care what he can do, it will NEVER happen!"
_______________________________________________________
Tbc
Previous Chapters Found At: http://www.soulsurvivor.itgo.com
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some
insight:
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tri bes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm
DarqueChilde
aka Soul Survivor
Questions? Comments?
E-mail me at:
simkin@rocketmail.com
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior
Hakken - Werewolf
Nezumi - Wererat
Kumo - Werespider
Chapter 6
by Soul Survivor
---
Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.
---
Of all the lessons learned in her century plus lifespan, meditation was one that Cologne employed the most. It allowed her to make sense of the daily madness that surrounded her, as well as deal with it without resorting to homicide... Usually.
*Smash!* "Stupid!" *Crunch!* "Pervert boy!" *Thud!* "Need bother!" *Wham!* "Someone else!" *Crash!* "AND NO COME BACK!"
Even one hundred and more years of practice was being challenged by the strangeness around her of late. From Tsubasa's current fixation on Shampoo to the Kuno boy's sudden interest in chinese food to the strangeness in Mousse's behavior, things were getting weirder by the moment. The Kuno boy was a mystery in and of himself, having become very quiet of late as well as not sleeping well at all. From the way he acted, it seemed as if he were waiting for something, and the haunted expression on his face indicated that whatever he was waiting for could not be good.
Then there was Tsubasa... While she did not know all that much about the little pervert, what she did know was that he was supposed to be obsessed with Ukyo, not Shampoo.
That all of this coincided with son-in-law's recent illness and attack on Ryouga was not lost on her. Ryouga's memory loss was no coincidence either. It was indicative of one who had witnessed a shape-changers war-form and suffered the effects of the Delirium, the insanity brought about by humanity's instinctive terror of the shifting breeds. Only those of Were blood were immune, and she was quite positive that that did not include Ryouga.
The Tendo girl on the other hand... Her account of son-in-law becoming a furred monster was music to the matriarch's ears. She had seen the potential in his aura on their first meeting, and the hope of producing a full blooded Kahn warrior in her lifetime was born anew.
When her great-granddaughter had turned out to be mere kinfolk, she had been devastated. All those years of training wasted, all her hopes for naught... Then Shampoo had gone and gotten defeated by an outsider male with what looked to be excellent breeding, the mark of the shifting breeds strong in his aura.
Then, of course, there was the Neko-ken... While there was the possibility of a non-Kahn learning it, it was a slim one at best, the Cat spirit being quite particular about whom She bestowed Her gifts upon. The claw marks on Ryouga's body told her all she needed to know; she was certain that the boy was Kahn, and that was the best news she'd had all decade.
Mousse, on the other hand, troubled her greatly. The marks in his aura were of a variety she was not entirely familiar with, and they were getting stronger on a daily basis. Add to that his uncanny ability to detect Tsubasa, regardless of his disguise, and it became clear that the blind boy was fast becoming an unknown quantity, something she did not like at all.
Interrupted from her musings by the renewed violence that heralded Tsubasa's return, she wondered whether she should have simply let Mousse kill him to begin with.
*************************
Everyone has their sanctuary, the place they go when they need some peace and quiet, for Kodachi, that was her garden. Normally, the heady scent of her black roses would calm her, allow her to think and plan. Normally... Today, all the ebony blooms did was depress her further.
This was her third day on her medication, her third day of sanity, as it were. Gone was her accustomed leotard and ribbon, in its place was a subdued green kimono. Gone was her lethal gymnastic equipment, replaced by schoolbooks and study, making up for years of sliding by on only her family name in a private school. But also gone with them was the brightness, the color in her life, replaced by a drab mundaneity she could scarcely handle.
Time and time again, she was tempted to simply toss her pills in the wastebasket, to escape the colorless world and return to her former life, but one thing stopped her. This world, colorless and drab as it was, was reality, her former life simply a dream. The things she had experienced in her delusional state, that had seemed so real, faded to nothing in the harsh light of sanity, and she knew that she had come way too close to hurting or killing others in her madness.
Then there was Ranma... She shuddered to think of the things she had done to him and those around him in her pursuit. Attacking his fiancee, trying to hill the red-haired girl, someone who could only be his sister, what with the strong family resemblance and same family name. Using so many drugs and poisons on him, any one of which could have been lethal in excess, tricking him, tormenting him and those around him... It was no wonder that he wanted nothing to do with her... And that hurt most of all, for the one thing the pills did not change were her feelings for him. She loved him still, and it was a love she now knew went unreturned.
***************
The nights in Mt. Terror are full of life, at least to those with senses sharp enough to discern it. While his father's sonorous snores did wonders to drown out the sounds, the scents pervading the woods were driving Ranma insane. From the damp smell of the underbrush to the varied musks of the local wildlife, this was one aspect of being Nezumi that he could do without.
Finally, after tossing and turning for better than an hour, inspiration struck. Slipping out of his bedroll, he dug his canteen out of his pack, quietly uncapping it, he dumped its contents on the sleeping form of his father, eliciting little more than a slight hitch in the older man's snores as his curse activated.
Taking a deep sniff, he smiled in satisfaction before returning to his bedroll and falling immediately asleep. After almost a year of living with it, the odor of damp panda fur was one he could deal with.
Ranma found himself surrounded in mist, the chittering voices that haunted his sleep louder than ever. Slowly the mist cleared and he found himself in the hilltop clearing where he had first encountered Rat, and after a moment, most of the remaining mist coalesced into the form of Rat herself.
Despite everything his father had told him, despite even his own misgivings, in her presence all he felt was safe and loved. Steeling himself, he faced her, determined to be master of his own fate.
"Look... Ermm... Well..." Words failing him, all he could do was stand there, his determination failing in the face of her presence. Finally, She spoke.
"Relax, young warrior, and set your mind at ease. I know what troubles you, and while out of content, much of what your father has told you of us is the truth. For most Nezumi, their duty is to cull the masses of humanity, to keep them in check. I also know that you are ill suited for said task. Rest assured, young one, the low war of your brethren is not your lot. No, Fate, it seems, has a different plan for you, a different plan indeed."
Feeling a wave of relief wash over him, Ranma took a moment before responding.
"So... If I'm not in with this Low War thing, what then? Why make me like this? And why didn't you tell me about this Low War business to begin with? What exactly do you want from me?"
Rat's chuckle was pleasant, that of a parent dealing with a small child's innocent questions.
"All will be revealed in good time, young one, all in good time. For now, however, it is time to begin your training."
This caught Ranma's attention immediately.
"'Training'? Err... This wouldn't involve c-c-c-cats and fish sausage, would it?"
Apparently, even a furred rodent's face can display confusion.
"Ahh... Nooo. Why do you ask?"
"Heh... No reason... Just checking... So! What sort of training did you have in mind?"
A portion of the remaining mist coalesced into a small rodent, which hopped onto Rat's shoulder and eyed him appraisingly as Rat responded.
"This is the Kangaroo Rat. Hers is the secret of mighty leaps and bounds, a secret she will share with you this evening."
Nonplussed, Ranma eyed the tiny rodent, debating on whether or not he should mention his school's specialization. Finally, shaking his head in amusement, he grinned at his diminutive sensei.
"Riiight. Well then... Let's see what ya got."
Much, much later, as dawn approached, two questions were prevalent in his mind. First, why was it, that the smaller the teacher, the bigger the hardass they were? And second, when the HELL was he going to learn that his foot did NOT belong in his mouth?
*************
As the sun rose over Nerima, Ichiro came to a decision. He had waited long enough, the time for the first part of his vengeance was at hand. Today, the old bitch would pay the first installment on her debt to him. Today her great-granddaughter would die.
Leaving Konatsu with orders to run the restaurant as usual, he made his way to the Nekohaten, shedding his Ukyo disguise as he left the Ucchan. Arriving at his destination, he noted that the boy who had been practically living there for the past two days had already arrived and was sitting in his customary corner booth. No matter, though, he could be dealt with easily. The same went for the busboy who was busily wiping tables. Those two would fall to the Delirium as easily as the former owner of his current lair had, leaving only the crone and her spawn for him to deal with. Ahh, to see the look on the old bitch's face when he drank his fill from her precious great-grandchild... Vengeance was indeed a dish best served cold.
Ignoring Shampoo for the moment, he focused his attention on the crone, addressing her in flawless Mandarin.
"Greetings, Ku-Lon of the Joketsozuku. Do you remember who I am?"
Eyeing him warily, the old woman shook her head after a moment before responding in the same language.
"To be honest, no, I do not... I know I have seen you before, but I could not say when or where."
"More's the pity then, crone, more's the pity. I remember you quite well, 'Protector of the Amazons', quite well indeed."
Her danger sense flaring, Cologne eyed her guest closely before responding.
"It has been many years since I have used that title, stranger... How is it that you are so familiar with me?"
Chuckling, he slowly let himself dissolve into his War-Form, laughing out loud as recognition finally lit her feature, along with a touch of fear.
"Yesss... Now you remember me, don't you... Now you remember me... And now you pay, yess, now you pay."
Lashing out with a clawed forelimb, he held a futilely struggling Shampoo aloft before him by her hair. He writhed with glee as he watched the old bitch attempt assuming her War-Form, attempt and fail.
"You're too old for that, bitch, too old by far... I, however, I am ssstill in my pri- ack!"
Without warning, the girl was snatched from his grasp by... Nothing? Turning, he received a face full of knives, shuriken, yo-yo's, chains, and a duck training potty, as the girl floated well out of his reach and alighted on the floor at the other end of the restaurant. The busboy, instead of being frozen in terror, was facing him, a look of fury upon his face. Chains hung from his sleeves like streamers of ribbons from a party favor, and his coke bottle glasses glinted from their perch on top of his head.
Then from the left came another attack, the other boy, also unaffected by the Delirium was moving forward, his bokken blurring in a series of thrusts, the air pressure of which were beginning to pulp the spiders that made up his body. Worse, the old crone was attacking also, her walking stick moving even faster than his eyes could follow.
The realization that he had seriously underestimated his prey did little more than fuel the rage building inside of him as, with a roar of primal fury, he returned to the offensive. Rage granting him speed and strength far beyond his oppressors, he lashed out at the old crone, striking her several times before she could react, the impacts flinging her ass over elbows into the kitchen area.
Another series of blows sent the bokken wielding boy flying into a wall, allowing Ichiro to focus on his primary threat, Mousse. Spinning, he grabbed for the busboy's chains, intending to string him up with them, and received another shock as they sprang away from him, seemingly of their own volition.
The myopic boy stood facing him, his body between the enraged Kumo and Shampoo. His chains floated about him, writhing like angered serpents, one or another striking out, keeping Ichiro at bay for the moment.
"An amusssing trick, mageling... But, how long can you keep it up?"
Ichiro could see the exhaustion on the boy's face, he knew that in a matter of moments the strain of keeping his chains moving would wear the boy down. It was simply a waiting game, then he would kill them all, the girl first, so the mageling could watch her die.
Sensing the old bitch, he turned his attention her direction in time to easily catch the object she had hurled at him. Looking at his hand, he found himself holding... A melon?
Kuno was in agony. The pounding he had received was worse than anything Saotome had ever done to him, in either form. He doubted his ability to even stagger back to his feet, let alone resume the fight against whatever that monster was. Suddenly, the pain was washed from his limbs, as his body was filled with a holy purpose. Tatewaki Kuno was once again the mighty Blue Thunder. The fruit that he hated beyond anything else in this world filling his vision, he charged.
Ichiro's only warning was an inarticulate howl of insane fury as the maddened Kendoist plowed into him. Moving with a speed and skill that defied description, the Blue Thunder assaulted his hated foe, paying no attention at all to the creature that held it, until said creature attempted to block him in his holy quest. Then, that creature, obviously in league with the hated fruit, became his target as well, something to be exterminated, obliterated... Destroyed!
It was at this point that Ichiro decided to retreat. The Kendoist was in a full frenzy, ignoring damage done to him, the busboy, his bladed chains writhing, was moving in as well, and the crone, miraculously unharmed by his assault, was advancing, her body glowing with power. He had obviously underestimated them, and facing them stood a good chance of being a fatal mistake. Collapsing into his breed form, a mass of tiny spiders, he scattered to the four winds, fleeing for the moment.
When he had recovered from this mistake he would return, better informed and prepared to deal with the lot of them. Yes, they would all pay with their lives; he would kill them slowly, one by one, when they least expected it.
Cologne watched as the Kumo dissolved and scattered. Keeping her battle aura burning, she extended her senses. When she was sure he was gone, she let it drop, and felt the pain of her injuries wash over her as she leaned heavily on her staff, the weight of her years felt for the first time in her life.
Limping over to Mousse, who had collapsed in exhaustion upon Ichiro's exit, she tapped a few shiatsu points to better let his chi refresh him. Turning to Shampoo, she directed her to Kuno, who was finally feeling his injuries.
"Take him into the back and make him comfortable, I will deal with Mousse here."
As her great-granddaughter complied, Cologne sat herself by Mousse's prone form, focusing her attention on the boy's aura. The marks she had noted before were there, much more prominent now, as well as the well-defined mark of magic. That was what she had seen before, and now it made sense. The boy had finally come into his own, and just in the nick of time from the look of it.
How long she sat and studied his aura, she did not know, only becoming aware of her surroundings again when Shampoo cleared her throat.
"Great-grandmother... What just happened? What was that thing and how did it know you? What did Mousse just do? What is going on?"
Gently bopping Shampoo on the head for not speaking Japanese, she sighed before speaking.
"It is a very complicated story, child, one that will take some time to fully explain. Come, I will tell it to you as we clean up this mess."
Several hours later found the Nekohaten cleaned up but not open for business as a battered Cologne sat and shared tea with a stunned-looking Shampoo, an amazingly recovered Kuno, and a still exhausted-looking Mousse. At the moment, Kuno was finishing an explanation of his family's curse and his vision of Shampoo's murder.
"Aiyah... So that why you spend last three day here?"
"Aye... After the vision, what else could I do? It is the duty of a Samurai to defend others, and while my former delusions have seemingly gone for good, it is still a code that I strive to follow."
"That is something, sonny boy. How is it that you're no longer a raving psychotic? No offense intended, of course."
"None taken, Elder. I am sure that my ravings were a spectacle to behold... But, as to your question, I am not sure what happened... As best I can tell, my delusions began fading after witnessing the incident between Saotome and Ryouga. It seems that the horrific vision I had afterward has burned the delusion from my mind. Instead, I now get very little sleep..."
The edge in Cologne's voice as she interrupted him caught his attention. Her posture had become almost hungry as she addressed him in a calculating tone.
"You were there for the fight? You witnessed his transformation? Tell me about it."
"You know of that?"
"Yes, actually. I have been expecting it for quite some time now."
At that, Kuno was suddenly half out of his seat, indignation heavy in his voice.
"And yet you mentioned nothing to him? Old one, do you have any idea how close Saotome came to taking his own life because of that? His becoming a half-rat monster nearly drove him -"
"Rat!?" The near hysterical tone of the matriarchs voice, belied her visage of detached curiosity. "Are you sure?"
Calming slightly, Kuno paused a moment to regain his dignity before responding.
"Of course I am sure, I was less than five meters away when it happened. That is beside the point, however... Methinks you have done him a grave disservice in keeping your silence on this matter. Someone could have been killed that day, honestly, had it been anyone other than the Hibiki boy... I do say madam, are you even listening to me?"
Her expression ageing her beyond even her years, Cologne's voice was distracted as she answered.
"I am listening, boy, and yes, perhaps keeping the matter to myself may have been a mistake, but, what's done, is done. I will speak to him when he and his father return. Now, however, it is perhaps best if you return home and get some rest. I very much doubt that the Kumo will return for a few days, and I have preparations to make."
As Kuno was headed out the door, he paused as Cologne spoke again.
"Know this also, your actions today will not be forgotten, Tatewaki Kuno. I am in your debt. Should you ever require the assistance of the Joketsozuku, simply ask for it."
Bowing formally, she closed the door behind him, then turned to those remaining.
"Shampoo, you go get some rest, I want to see if we can open for the evening crowd. Mousse, I need to have a word with you alone."
After Shampoo had gone to her room, Cologne eyed the myopic boy appraisingly for a moment, then poured him some tea.
"It seems that I underestimated you, Part Timer, something I will never do again, you can be sure of that. However, this leaves us in an interesting pickle if you would. The Matriarchs Council will be less than pleased to discover that the first Joketsozuku Magi born in over six hundred years is a mere male. Dont look at me like that boy, yes, I said Magi, because that is what you are."
Stirring the dregs in the bottom of her teacup, she seemed to come to a decision.
"When the mess with the Kumo is over and done with, you will challenge Shampoo. And THIS time, you will not hold back! I know that you dont like the idea of hurting her, boy, but you have no choice in the matter. You will challenge her, you will defeat her, and then you will marry her, thus the only Magi in the village is no longer fair game for any Matriarch to use in any given scheme"
Scraping his lower jaw off the table, Mousse eyed the Matriarch as if she'd grown a second head.
"I dont understand... You have spent most of my life telling me that I could not have her... Now you are practically ordering me to marry her? Not that Im complaining mind you, but what about Saotome's claim?"
The old woman's wry grin at Mousse's discomfiture slowly soured as she explained.
"Saotome's claim is being overridden by my authority as village Matriarch. As the saying goes, Rank Hath It's Privleges, and all that. As to why... Well, for once I will be frank. My family have been producing Kahn protectors for most of the three thousand years of Amazon history. And while bringing the first Magi born in half a millenia under my influence has its perks, it is still a secondary concern to my bloodline. There is no way, under any circumstances that I will taint three thousand years of Kahn heritage with the blood of a Rat! I dont care how talented he is, I dont care what he can do, it will NEVER happen!"
_______________________________________________________
Tbc
Previous Chapters Found At: http://www.soulsurvivor.itgo.com
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some
insight:
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tri bes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm
DarqueChilde
aka Soul Survivor
Questions? Comments?
E-mail me at:
simkin@rocketmail.com
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior
Hakken - Werewolf
Nezumi - Wererat
Kumo - Werespider