Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Butterfly Effect ❯ t.he good, the bad, and the giant mocha freeze [1] ( Chapter 6 )

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[1.6]

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Carrots, potatoes and onions flew into the air, hovering breathlessly in a millisecond of stasis before gravity protested and drew them back to the earth. The large kitchen knife flashed in that eyeblink of a moment, whispering its intent with a sharp silver tongue, and a medley of perfectly cubed vegetable chunks fell into the large soup pot.

Cologne had always found a certain comfort to cook when she needed to cogitate about son-in-laws and whether she would actually witness the birth of any great-great grandchildren before the passing of the next millenia.

Today, though, she was thinking about an entirely different boy.

Mousse had never exactly been friends with Mukodono, more than eager to see his competition dry up and die at any cost. Yet somehow, as he took great pleasure in pointing out, whatever had transpired with the group back in China had altered the balance.

Oh, he still clung to Shampoo like an overeager little lamprey (after all, old habits are hard to break), but it lacked the smell of desperation, the overt neediness in his pursuit of the fruit of her loins. In fact, he seemed almost confident of the eventual outcome, despite the increasing moodiness and general short --er, *shorter* temper of the latter.

Frankly, Cologne had been sort of missing those rants of "Die Saotome!" that shook the rafters of the Nekohanten right before he'd dash off to get his posterier kicked up around his ears. Jerry Springer wasn't this much fun.

The foolish, nearsighted boy may not have been ideal, but he had his good qualities: subserviant, docile, unassuming; overall, a nicely whipped, if woefully nearsighted, package. But somewhere buried under the fawning, obsequious nature lived a hidden layer of resentment towards his heritage and the second-class status based on the chance fall of a Y chromosome. And coming to a country such as Japan didn't help matters any.

Something would have to be done about him. Something or someone.

Absently twirling the kitchen gleaming knife between gnarled fingers, Cologne considered matters for a moment or two longer before decisively tossing it over her shoulder. It landed with a hearty thunk, imbedding point down in the cutting board and quivering there, as she hopped across the room on her staff and picked up the phone.

=====----[t.he good, the bad, and the giant mocha freeze ]-----=====

"Aren't I the popular one." Nabiki's lazy drawl carried through the mostly darknened recesses of the presently empty restaurant. As she seated herself at the table closest to the pick-up window, her eyes descended upon the large blocky item that made up her dining companion, its mysterious contents covered by a large dropcloth.

An overwhelming curiosity overcame--nah, it didn't have to overcome anything. Where it might have killed those of the feline origin, Nabiki wasn't a cat by any means and besides, it wouldn't be such a big deal just to take a peek. One little cursory glance, that's all, she reasoned, lifting a hand towards the cover.

"Not before we discuss certain matters, child." All one-foot-nine of the Matriarch materialized on the table in front of her, eyeing the girl speculatively as she pushed a bowl of steaming noodles in broth towards her.

"Gotcha." Retracting her arm, Nabiki dipped into the bowl with her chopsticks and polished off a mouthful of noodles before querying, "So. What did you call me here for?"

"I understand you've been getting along well with Mousse."

The middle Tendo sister choked on her soup, sputtering.

"Hey, if you're trying to pawn off--"

"No, no" Cologne held up a withered hand, forestalling impending argument. "It's nothing like that. Well, not completely. Actually, I've grown rather fond of the foolish boy."

"I sense a 'but' coming up."

"But--"

"Hey, can I pick 'em or what?"

"--I'm afraid my great-granddaughter will never marry him the way he is now."

That was enough to effect a moment of pause in Nabiki. "You're saying you actually advocate Mousse as marriage material?"

The old woman shrugged. "Shampoo could do worse. Besides, I think he'll do wonders to change her thinking. She really is a little too young to be so-- what is the term? Anal retentive?"

"Not the word I would use, but go on."

"The boy has a lot of potential. But he also has an innate streak of stubborn individualism that needs to be addressed. I believe your culture coins the phrase as, 'The nail that sticks up gets hammered down?'"

"Oh, I'm more than familiar with that one." The Tendo girl's lip curled slightly. "I don't see why you're talking to me though. If you wanted another Ranma, Genma's the one giving lessons."

Cologne smiled. It was a ghastly thing. "One Mukodono is enough, I think."

"Agreed."

"It does however, take one nail to understand another. Hammer him down or pull the nail out, it doesn't really matter which. As Mousse is presently, he is of no use to me."

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"Really, Ranma," the words of the youngest Tendo girl wafted in from the street, as three figures strolled through the doors the Nekohanten, warmed by the late afternoon sun. "I seriously doubt that nice old lady is out to get you."

"Then how do you explain this?" The boy-turned-girl grabbed a corner of her sopping shirt and sullenly wrung out water onto the floor.

"It could have happened to anybody."

"You and Nabiki are totally dry," the pigtail girl noted critically to her fiancee.

"So?"

"I was walking between ya two!" She threw up her hands exasperated. "How could she totally miss the both of ya and get only me?"

"Maybe you're just unlucky?" Nabiki piped in helpfully.

Ranma shot her a half-lidded glare.

"Really, really unlucky?" the girl amended.

The dirty look didn't change.

"Really, really, really--?"

"Just can it," the redhead growled. "Just don't say another wAAAAUGH!" she squealed, achieving full body elevation as the tip of a cane lightly traversed up her spine. Spinning around in midair, Ranma landed to face a snickering Cologne.

"You're getting sloppy, Son-in-Law," the old crone admonished with a cluck. "Allowing me to sneak up on you like that."

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"Here, let me get those for you, Shampoo," offered the nearsighted Amazon, as the object of his desire entered the kitchen from the rear, shoulder-pressing a tray of soup bowls and plates stacked nearly four feet high.

Shampoo nodded and was just about to hand over her burden when a distinctly high-pitched squeal broke out from the main room, causing both their heads to whip towards the wall that separated them from the dining area.

That scream! She would recognize it anywhere! It was a comforting, familiar sound that spoke of innocence, of happier, glorious times when Shampoo had chased a certain silly boy-turned-girl all over the Asian continent.

"Airen!" she chirped happily before dashing outside, leaving Mousse to blink at the tray full of dishes spinning in midair. He blinked again. Then his eyes widened. With a yelp, the Amazon threw himself under the falling tower of china.

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"Nabiki Tendo," Cologne began, when a loud crash emerged from the kitchen. "Have you given our previous discussion any more thought?" Three pairs of perplexed eyes focused on the middle Tendo sister.

"I did." Nabiki pulled out a well-worn copy of the Amazon handbook from her backpack, licked the tip of her index finger and flipped to a page rife with an assortment of translations scribbled into the borders and gutters. "But first, I have a couple of questions concerning certain details of Joketsuzoku law."

Mousse casually strolled out into the dining room, dusting off the front of his robe and purposefully made a beeline for the front door.

"What was that noise, Mr. Part-time?"

"Noise? What noise? I didn't hear any noise," the Amazon babbled. "Even if there was some noise, it probably was nothing. Nothing at all. I'll be taking a walk now."

Cologne eyeballed him dubiously, but decided it wasn't worth the effort and turned back to Nabiki. "Your question?"

The Tendo girl pointed to a passage in the book. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Mousse here beat the crap out of Ranma's female form the first time he showed up here?"

The bespectacled boy paused, nearly at his goal, and against his better instincts turned back towards the group. "Why yes, I--"

"Hey!" came the protest of one from the peanut gallery.

"Before he changed back, I believe Mr. Part Time had the definite advantage."

"And didn't Ranma's female form kick the daylights out of Shampoo back in the Amazon village?"

"What Greedy Girl is trying to say?" Shampoo didn't like where this talk was heading, especially since stupid Duck Boy was beginning to giggle.

"Well, if Mousse defeated Ranma-chan--"

"HEY! HE DID Nn--!" A hand clapped over Ranma's mouth and she scowled sideways at Akane.

Nabiki swiveled towards the redhead. "You're saying he didn't beat you?"

The pigtailed girl-at-the-moment managed to shove her fiancee's hand away. "Are you kidding?" came the blurt as ego momentarily overrode common sense. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Akane slapping a palm to her forehead.

The handbook snapped shut with a definitive (and ominous) clap as Nabiki turned back to Cologne. "So what happens when an outsider female defeats an Amazon male?"

"Uh, hey . . . " Ranma was finally suspecting the conversation's ultimate destination.

The old Amazon tilted her head thoughtfully. "Same thing. If a female outsider is strong enough to defeat a male of the Joketsuzoku, then we definitely want her within the tribe."

"Then you know, as Ranma said, she did defeat Mousse . . . and since she's a girl half the time, shouldn't she also have an equal claim to him as well?"

"WHAT?!" came the shouts in Dolby Surround.

Mousse's eyes bulged and he scampered away from the redhead as said girl-at-the-moment turned a strange shade of kiwi.

"You know, you have a very good point." Cologne rubbed her grizzled chin, then turned to Ranma who was doubled over busily retching into a corner. "Very well, if you won't marry Shampoo, you can marry Mousse instead. Daughter-in-Law."

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed the pigtailed girl as she blindly ran in circles around the Nekohanten, hands plastered to the sides of her face in favorable impression of a Munch painting.

Shampoo, torn between unmitigated horror and sudden, mad laughter, merely opted to look ill.

"Oneechan!" hissed Akane. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I can take care of this easily," waved the older girl.

"H-h-h-h-how?" stammered Ranma through chattering teeth.

"Ten thousand yen."

"You hate me," moaned the pigtailed girl. "You really do hate me!"

"Nabiki!" The youngest Tendo daughter screeched.

"Kidding! Kidding!" The accused raised her hands in self-defense. "But first, little sis, I need some advice. Would you suggest one this big?" She held her hands a foot apart in front of her. "Or this big?" The distance between her palms doubled in size.

The other girl's eyebrows knit together. "Wha-?"

Mousse, having tuned out the entire conversation right after the "Daughter-in-Law" part, spent the interim attempting to make himself as insignificant as possible behind a potted plant. Squatting on the ground, head buried in his arms and preoccupied with whimpering "Thisisnothappeningthisisnothappening" over and over, it was quite understandable why he didn't notice Nabiki saunter up behind and tap him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Duck Boy."

" . . . thisisnothappeningthisisnothappening . . . "

"Heeey, Mouuuuusieeeeee . . . "

" . . . I'mgonnawakeupanditsallgonnabejustabadbaddreamyeahthatstheticket . . . "

"Oooooooooh, Mouuuuuuuuussieeeeeee-chan . . . "

"Would you *mind* not calling me--Huh?" As his thoughts broke out of their mental loop, he looked up just in time to see a large, ominous shadow descend upon him.

A long group silence descended.

Crickets chirped.

Two tumbleweeds blew by.

"You know," Akane finally intoned. "That was kind of a weird sound."

Ranma nodded. "Like broken pottery or somethin'."

Shampoo curiously toed the unconscious Amazon's leg and was rewarded with several crunchy sounds. Sliding her foot under his calf, she shook harder and shards from a former teacup tinkled out onto the floor.

"Be sure to tell him the happy news when he wakes up," Nabiki motioned at the unconscious figure whose flattened cranium lay under the two-foot head of a hammer. Angling her index and thumb into a pistol-pose, she blew imaginary smoke from the tip before casually strolling out the front doors of the Nekohanten.

"Well," Cologne blinked. "That took care of it, I suppose."

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"No! It ain't happenin'," growled the pigtailed boy, from six feet above the sidewalk. "You're just gonna get in the way like last time!"

"If I hadn't 'gotten in the way'," Akane snapped from below. "You would have ended up Soylent Green for Saffron!"

"I coulda handled it!". Ranma's stride grew longer as he stalked forward on his wire perch. "You're the one that almost got yerself killed!"

The Tendo girl held her breath and counted to seventeen as she ran to catch up with her fiance. Any more and she was going to burst a blood vessel.

"Ranma--"

"I don't care what the old bat says." He paused, absently fingering the ring on his left hand. "You ain't comin' along this time."

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It was a strange, ancient object that Cologne held up under the fluorescent lights, sitting so inauspiciously in the center of her withered palm. Upon closer inspection, the design appeared to be of a black snake swallowing its tail, its eye a bright obsidian core in contrast to the muted ash body. Unwrapping its form, she withdrew the tail from its mouth, its end tapering into a fine point.

The Matriarch then gestured to Akane. "Give me your hand, girl."

The sting of a pinprick later, a bubble of red welled on the girl's index finger, and with the tail of the ouroboros, Cologne drew the blood into a ring, until the snake's eye glowed the same bloody crimson that stained the youngest Tendo daughter's fingertip.

"Now yours, Son-in-Law."

He held out his left hand, and the snake wrapped around his middle finger, mouth re-clamping over its tail. The blood-red eye flashed and Ranma dropped to his ass as a sudden wave of vertigo slapped him upside the head.

Akane whipped accusingly towards the Matriarch. "What did you do to him?"

Cologne sauntered to Ranma's side of the table and peered down at the boy sprawled flat on the floor. "This ring applies the same fundamental principle as the Happi Goen-satsu. The circle will drain your ki, Mukodono, a little at a time, but on a continual basis. In essence, you will be providing the 'back-up power' for her. This should give the girl a little extra time, enough for my great-granddaughter and the both of you to find and destroy the spring."

She hopped back as the boy pulled himself up, using the table's edge for leverage.

"Hey, I never said she was comin' along!"

"Can you think of a better way of locating the Akaneniichuan, Son in Law?"

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Looking down, the boy realized he was absently rotating the ring around and around his finger and dropped both arms.

"It don't matter. I'll think of something." He glanced at the sidewalk, at the canal, at the rooftops and trees, anywhere but where she stood.

"Look, it's like Cologne said," Akane reasoned. "I know where the spring is. We go to China, find it, destroy it and come home. Simple enough."

The pigtailed boy finally turned, standing with his back to her, a figure perched so still on the fence, he could have been painted against the backdrop of Nerima's sky. When he finally spoke, it was soft and stained with cynicism.

"Ain't you figured it out yet? Nuthin's that simple."

Akane watched as he bent slightly and leapt off the canal fence. Hopping this way and that off the roofs of the nearby houses, he eventually disappeared out of her line of sight.

"But why do you have to make them more complicated?" she asked plaintively.

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Mouss e groaned as consciousness slowly returned to him. Lying face-up in the dim light, he stared up at the assortment of shadows dancing off the ceiling, wondering what he'd done to get Shampoo's ire up this time. He couldn't recall her ever hitting him this hard before. Gingerly, he sat up, rubbing his head, then winced at a bump approximately the size of his fist that had taken up residence on his cranium. The damp towel plastered to his forehead fell into his lap with a wet -plop-.

Fumbling around for glasses, he finally pulled a pair out of his sleeves and stuffed them on his face, before stumbling downstairs.

"Ow. Ow. Ow." Every step seemed to jar his headache even worse, and he paused on the stair to catch his breath. A strange, annoying song was spinning on the Victorola, flooding the Nekohanten with its bubbly upbeat tune.

In the middle of the main floor, Shampoo and Cologne were doing some weird hand and hip gyrations, dancing what appeared to be--

"Hey . . . Macarena!" the purple-haired Amazon chirped.

"Shampoo?"

The love of his life turned and glanced up the stairs. Then, to his shock, favored him with a brilliant smile filled with such affection, his heart momentarily stopped. Returning the smile cautiously, he stumbled the rest of the way down the staircase, headache all but forgotten.

When he reached the bottom, the Amazon girl hugged him hard. "Shampoo so happy!"

"Er, I'm glad." Yes! he crooned inwardly. He must have done something right! Something that had finally turned his beloved's looks of scorn into the love he always knew she had for him. He was da man!

"Congratulations on your impending nuptials, Mr. Part-time," the old goat snickered at his stupid, self-congratulatory grin.

Then it began to return in pieces.

A cheshire smile.

His grin began to falter.

'Oh, Moussie-chan . . . '

And a very large, blunt instrument.

The grin disappeared.

"Shampoo is so, so glad! Mousse go bother Greedy Girl now!"

Well, yeah, he fainted again.