Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Butterfly Effect ❯ b.litzkrieg ( Chapter 3 )

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[1.3]

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"Giant Mocha Freeze!" Called the way-too-perky barista from behind the counter at Le Cafe Doutor. Nabiki shuffled up listlessly, rubbing remnants of sleep from her eyes with one hand as she picked up her order with the other. Sipping on her iced drink, she felt the caffiene, glorious caffiene, settle into her sluggish bloodstream, and she returned to her table to peruse the invitation.

Some people, like Kasumi, were morning people, awake and energetic from the moment they rose at the crack of dawn.

Some were simply early risers out of habit or necessity. Akane usually rose at about 6:30 for her morning jog.

Nabiki Tendo was neither one of them. She sighed, glancing up at the clock that pronounced 5:35 in large digital letters on the wall. 5:35 was an ungodly hour for a girl who preferred enjoying the comforts of bed until the absolute last possible minute. Vampires and other nocturnal creatures knew a good thing when they had it.

But here she was, sitting in a coffee shop at 5:35 -- no, now it was 5:36 in the morning, propping her eyelids open with coffee stirrers, trying to map out a battle strategy.

She'd gone through the stack of letters and bills on the kitchen counter last night after returning from the Nekohanten and found a receipt from one from the local printers. Sneaking into her father's room revealed the remainder of the invitations that had yet to be delivered, confirming her suspicions, though she really didn't want to know why he was sleeping with his arms around a cask of sake.

According to what was written, Ranma and Akane's wedding was set for tomorrow, and unless something was done about it, it might actually go off without a hitch.

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6:17 read the clock on the wall of Kinko's.

Nabiki quickly filled in the details on the form for express reproduction service, pausing only when she reached the line asking for the number of copies wanted. Tapping the pen against her lip, she smiled and scrawled in three digits.

"That should do it," she murmured, taking the form and invitation to the front desk. She handed the clerk the invitation, with her last-minute addendum written in at the bottom - ALL GIFTS ARE NON-RETURNABLE, underlined twice.

One hour later, the girl strolled out of the copy center, three hundred sealed invitations bulging in her backpack. Pulling one envelope from the stack, she tapped the edge of the sealed letter against her cheek, then hopped on her bicycle and took off.

=====----=====-----[ b.litzkrieg ]-----=====----=====

Round and round, the ladle went, stirring out the lumps until everything was a smooth, silky consistency. Round and round in an endless loop, the okonomiyaki chef stirred her batter, never satisfied until the the mixture was perfect. It was, after all, Ukyo Kuonji's meticulous attention to detail and the fine cuisine that brought customers back to Ucchans day after day after day.

Not to mention the really cute chef that served them as well.

Okay, maybe the waitress too, she softly chuckled.

Konatsu had been painfully thin when they had first met, waiflike and three-quarters starved. Destitute, penniless and friendless, with zero knowledge of the value of money, the boy had shown so much gratitude to simply be fed and taken care of.

It was only recently, with regular meals, that the kunoichi finally began to tilt towards the right side of 'normal.' Normal girl, that was. Even after he filled out and put on a bit of healthy weight, he still looked like a fine-figured, if rather flat chested, woman -- those long, willowly limbs, thin, curved waist, and narrow hips brought even the okonomiyaki chef to a certain envy. The most appalling part was that he also had better legs than she did. And did he have to be so darned cute too?

But realistically, Ukyo had little to complain about. Konatsu never protested any of the work that needed to be done, in fact he always did more than expected, forever eager to find a way to do something extra for his 'Ukyo-sama' as he called her, with that bright, ebullient smile and some silly song on his lips.

It just because of that and his cheerful easygoing way that it was easy to forget her effeminate, passive friend was a highly trained assassin. And not just any assassin. A "genius kunoichi" as Happosai described, and she had to grudgingly admit at least some of that was true. If Ranma was the master of adaptive combat, Konatsu was one of adaptive weaponry. Who knew her kitchen held so many combustible components?

He seemed so overjoyed to be able to teach her, and frankly she was shocked at the depth of knowledge the ninja held about explosive chemical compounds. It was almost unnerving to hear him rattle off happily about catalysts, flashpoints, propellants and effective uses of primary charges.

And yet when she'd asked him where he learned so much about demolitions, the only thing she'd gotten out of him was a pleasant, "My sisters didn't always look like they do now."

It did however, explain to an extent why she'd caught him several times unnecessarily burning garbage outside the restaurant, seen him standing there before the pyre, watching the flickering flames with disturbing fascination.

The opening door brought Ukyo out of her musings, and the okonomiyaki chef glanced up. "What do you want?" She bluntly queried the figure who stepped in through the door.

"This is a restaurant isn't it?" Nabiki smiled pleasantly, dropping her lumpy backpack to the floor in front of her. "I felt a hankering for some, um. . ." she twirled her fingers in a vague help me out here gesture.

"Okonomiyaki!"

"Right. I felt a hankering for some pork okonomiyaki, that's all."

Ukyo continued to gauge the middle Tendo girl suspiciously, but nevertheless poured the batter onto the grill.

"You're up a little early."

The short-haired girl shrugged. "Had some errands to run."

As Ukyo dropped the plate to the counter, Nabiki took out an envelope, placed it flat on the tabletop, and slid it towards her.

The cook paused, hand hovering over the envelope with the cute little heart sticker on the back. With a flick of her fingernail, she gingerly opened the flap and lifted out its contents.

After a long moment of perusing the invitation, she finally said, "This is a joke, isn't it?" The laugh that emerged was a brittle warble. "Ranchan would never--"

"--Would never send me here to deliver this invitation?" She leaned forward slightly on the stool. "Unfortunately, yours isn't the only one I have to deliver today. Guess he didn't have time to mention it to you, huh?"

Truth was, Ranchan hadn't come by once since the group returned from China, and the okonomiyaki chef was on the verge of delivering a slew of her specialties to the Tendo household just to find out exactly what was going on.

"He couldn't even be bothered to give you it himself. Why, it's almost as if he's trying to hide something." She pulled her unofficial guest roster out from the pocket of her uniform, making show out out perusing the score of names before pursing her lips thoughtfully. "Oh dear."

"Huh?" Ukyo blinked.

The middle Tendo sister scratched her head, as if embarrassed. "I thought your name was on here for some reason. I mean you are his best friend, right? You'd think that he'd want you to share in his day of joy. Hello?"

She waved a hand in front of the okonomiyaki chef, who appeared to have zoned out. Nabiki stood, hefted the backpack to her shoulders, and slipped out of the restaurant.

Staring blankly ahead, the Ukyo continued to stir the batter.

That jerk! That, that creep! Planning to sneak off and marry that not-even-as-cute girl and trying to HIDE IT from her. Using and then casting her off like some dirty apron. Noooooo, we don't need Ucchan anymore, do we?

It was as if she were six again, chasing after the yatai, shouting 'Ranchan! Ranchan! You said you were going to take me with you!' Stumbling, falling, watching the cart rattle off through blurry eyes, seeing her future, her life fade into the distance with a wave. The humiliation she'd suffered, the cruel gossip and whisperings, the fulminating anger, all came back with a vengeance. Not once, but twice, he done this to her!

Round and round, the ladle went, stirring out the lumps, pounding out her emotions, blending her angst until it was a smooth, even consistency.

Oh he would pay, yes he would.

The hand on the mixer paused.

But wasn't it Genma's fault that she'd been left behind? Ranchan hadn't known. He'd cried at having to leave her behind, ignorant of the machinations that his bastard of a father had wreaked upon both their lives. No, Ranchan wouldn't do this to her. It had to be a trick. Yes, that was it. That had to be it. It had to be the lousy panda again. Him or--

Her.

Reaching under the shelf, she absently brought out a box and carefully flipped the top open. What was the combination Konatsu had said? Stump remover, soot and sulfur? Opening the plastic bag inside, she poured the remander of the Nutonex into the okonomiyaki batter and began stirring again.

Slowly, her unfocused eyes realigned on the now-vacant spot where Nabiki had sat and the untouched okonmiyaki on the counter that was slowly going cold.

Untouched okonomiyaki.

Okonomiyaki.

"Hey! She didn't pay!"

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"My great-granddaughter is still out at the market, but I'll see that she gets it." The old crone tucked the invitation into the folds of her robe. "But I am slightly curious as to your motivation in all of this."

"The more the merrier, the bigger the presents are," Nabiki rejoindered blandly. "I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? Maybe my sister could fall into a Jusenkyo pond or something." She snapped her fingers. "Oh, wait, that already happened, didn't it?"

The bell hiccuped forlornly as the door flew shut.

Cologne turned to the Amazon boy who appeared at the top of the stairs. "You never told me about this."

"It's not as if it did anything," shrugged Mousse, carefully navigating the blurry stairwell. "From what I gather, the Tendo girl went into an uncursed pond. Or at least it was uncursed before she went in."

"And you didn't think this was important enough to mention?"

"She's still here, and she's not cursed, what does it matter?"

"Stupid child, it's called the drowning spring because someone drowned in it, not because someone took a quick dip. If the Tendo girl created a spring at Jusenkyo, then eventually Jusenkyo is going to want her back."

Hopping to the entrance, the Matriarch of the Joketsuzoku turned the sign around so that it read CLOSED and turned the lock-bolt.

"Sit down, boy. You're going to tell me everything that happened in China."

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Furinkan turned out to be easier than expected.

A stack of invitations mysteriously left in the dropboxes of the various clubs resulted by mid-afternoon in the Kendo, Chemistry, Robotics, Sumo, Photography, Karate, Aikido and Yearbook Clubs weeping inconsolably into their pillows, their clenched fists cursing the sky and wailing at the injustices committed by this cruel, cruel world. The Football, Baseball, Basketball, Wrestling, Rugby and Track Teams simply sat around the locker room sniffling, disconsolate tracks of tears streaming down their faces as they shared a giant, wistful sigh.

Nabiki was in a much better mood. After all, her backpack was now lightened by a good three-quarters of its initial weight.

As for Ranma and Akane? They missed all of it. The two were sharing Friday afternoon in detention, for falling asleep in the middle of history class.

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"Yo, Fangboy."

"STOP CALLING ME P--" the Lost Boy whipped around snarling, then paused, thoughts skidding into neutral, as a girl sauntered up the sidewalk towards him.

"Stop calling you P- what?" An eyebrow shot up on Nabiki's forehead.

"P--p--p-p--" His eyes darted around guiltily as he hemmed and hawed, "P-p-p-p-p--" finally stammering out, "Plebeian."

The Tendo girl blinked once, ever so slowly.

"O-kay."

"Could you tell me, uh," Ryoga scratched the back of his neck, unsubtly attempting to change the subject. "Where the Unryuu--"

"Hold onto that thought. I've got something for you."

He took the envelope from her, the innocent-seeming letter held between his forefinger and thumb, eyeballing it as if it were a rattlesnake poised to strike.

"This looks like a wedding invitation," the bandannaed boy finally said.

"Gee, you're a lot smarter than you look. Guess that comes from not being p-p-p-plebeian, right?"

He snorted. "I'm afraid I won't be able to attend."

"Suit yourself," the middle Tendo sister shrugged. "But Akane will be so dissapointed if you don't come."

"Akane-san," Ryoga whispered, eyes aglitter in the perfect Pavlovian response. A moment later he shook his head vigorously. No! She was no longer his to dream about. Especially not now. "Give them my congratulations. I'd just like to know where the Unryuu farm--"

But Nabiki had already disappeared.

"--is."

He stood there, staring into the empty streets of darkening Nerima, the unopened letter hanging limply from his hand.

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"NEVER!" Bellowed the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High. "I will NEVER allow that wretched Saotome to enslave the beauteous Akane Tendo in this farce!"

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"Hmmmm . . . If Ranma-sama is to be married, then this bride must prepare her gown post-haste."

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Soun Tendo giggled at the infallibility of what henceforth became known as Plan 532. He knew Akane would go for it, after all, there was nothing like a little bribery to ensure a happy home. And once Ranma saw how beautiful his daughter looked in the wedding dress, he'd undoubtedly go for it as well.

"Oh, my little girl is going to be married," he sobbed, curled in a fetal position as he gently cradled the casket with Nannichuan printed on the label in his arms.

=====----[ m.any miles away, s.omething crawls to the surface

o.f a dark jusenkyo pond ]-----=====-----=====-----=====

The recently receded waters in the valley of the cursed springs stood absolutely still in the light of the three-quarter moon, as if the entire valley were holding its breath.

A hand broke through the surface of the water, skin shimmering pale against the rippling black of the pond. It scrabbled frantically against the edge of the grass before finally finding purchase on the bankhead. A second arm then shot out of the water and in the natural illumination, dragged the body of a woman to shore. Coughing and sputtering, she flopped back against the grass next to the pond, breasts heaving with the rise and fall of her chest.

After a moment, she sat up and looked down, inspecting her figure under ghostly illumination. Hands drifted up her legs, over her stomach, cupping breasts, then dropped to the sides. She shook violently, then closed her eyes, willing the tremors to go away.

She slipped on the robe that she had discarded earlier. It hung loosely on her frame, the edges dragging on the ground. Picking up the wine jug from the ground, she fastened it onto her belt beside her fan and shook the moisture out of her close-cropped hair.

With slow, unsure steps, the woman walked out of Jusenkyo.

=====----=====-----[ n.erima on impact ]----=====-----=====

"Akane, could you come in here for a moment?"

The girl in question paused with her hand above the doorknob of her father's room, then narrowed her eyes. "Otosan," she growled. "You'd better not be planning to knock me out and stuff me into that kimono again."

"No, no, it's nothing like that. There's just something I'd like to show you."

A moment of hesitation. "No kimonos then?"

"No kimonos."

She waffled. After all, she wasn't completely stupid. "You promise?"

"I promise."

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"Ranma, could you come in here for a moment?"

The boy in question paused in front of the guest room and narrowed his eyes. "Damn oyaji," he snarled. "You better not have Akane knocked out and stuffed in a kimono in there."

"No, no, it's nothing like that. There's just something I'd like to show you."

A moment of hesitation. "No kimonos then?"

"No kimonos."

He waffled. After all, he wasn't completely stupid. "You promise?"

"I promise."

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"That - that's-- "

"It's your wedding gift, Akane."

"My WHAT?!"

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"Yo, pops, whaddaya--"

**WHAM**

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"Watch the store for a little while, will you? I'm going upstairs to get dressed."

"Of course, Ukyo-sama!" The kunoichi cheerfully replied, then turned to the glutinous mass in the bowl the okonomiyaki chef had labeled "special celebratory recipe."

It appeared to have an abnormally thick constituency. The color seemed to be just a little off as well, Konatsu surmised, as he thoughtfully stirred the batter. But of course, what with the wedding and his mistress trying to be so noble, so brave, it was expected that she would be somewhat distracted.

He poured in water, stirring the mix until it was of recognizable consistency (well, perhaps a smidgen thinner than what was usually served). When he was done, the resulting mixture had produced four times the initial amount.

"Ukyo-sama will be so proud of me!" the ninja gushed, placing the three other full bowls into the refrigerator.

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Four exploding foodstuffs.

Three beaus in-waiting.

Two weeping fathers.

And one pigtailed girl cratered in the floor.

It could not have gone any better had she had more than a mere day to plan the whole shebang. Heck, Nabiki wished it could have been immortalized in a painting to hang up on her wall. This was her Mona Lisa, her Guernica, her Starry Sky, her--

"KUNO!" Snarled the bride-to-be. "Get the hell away from--" Akane slumped, bringing a hand to her temple as the room spun in a frantic whirlwind about her.

( Stumbling.

Falling.

Plunging.

Can't swim--can't--breathe--can't-- )

Nabiki watched on in horror as her little sister collapsed to the dojo floor.

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Unconscious ness wasn't such a bad thing, really.

At least not for Ranma, who was happily dreaming at the moment. And it was such a fascinating dream in a place, where things like exploding dim sum didn't exist and the dojo hadn't been trampled by several hundred people, and a certain someone was still in that pretty wedding dress. No, check, it was now after the ceremony that he couldn't remember any of, but she was wearing a little less of it now and was just getting to the more interesting aspects of what happened afterwards . . . CAKE! Yummy! He was just about to shovel another huge mouthful of icing and angel's food cake into his mouth--

"Wakey wakey, Saotome."

--when a cold splash brought him abruptly out of a most intriguing turn of events.

"Wha--how--whuh--?" Ranma-chan's eyes snapped open to the darkened ceiling of the demolished dojo.

"Looked like you were having a little too much fun there." An ominous voice filtered out through the pitch, followed by the metallic *plunk* of a bucket being dropped. The pigtailed girl craned her neck around until she locked on to its source.

Perched on the edge of the table that held the remnants of dream-delicious wedding cake, the shadowed figure hovered over Ranma with all the warmth and comfort of a stone gargoyle.

The boy-turned-girl sat up and winced at what felt like a chainsaw rip through her head. "Nabiki, what--"

"Just shut up and listen, Ranma," the middle Tendo sister clipped in a tone that could have created ice cubes. "You mooch off of us without contributing a thing. I can deal with that. You and your little friends destroy our home on a regular basis. I suppose some of its inevitable. It doesn't even matter that you parade around your little girlfriends in front of Akane like some pimp daddy with a harem." She shook her head. "I've accepted the fact that ever since you've shown up, trouble's followed you around like an unwanted relative. I've even dealt with the all the threats, brainwashings and kidnappings of my little sister, but then I had to hear -not even from either of you but from someone else- that you got Akane killed in China?"

"It ain't like that," Ranma swallowed. "I don't even know how she ended up there!"

"And I suppose it had absolutely nothing to do with you, right? You sound just like a certain someone we both know." Looking around, Nabiki spotted a discarded beach ball and hopped off the table. She picked it up, hefting it up and down in her right hand. "I guess it was inevitable, after all. Like father, like son. Too bad you didn't fall into the same spring as he did."

The pigtailed girl stared at her for a long moment, then, as the floor splintered under her fist, leapt to her feet shouting, "I ain't nuthin' like pops!"

"Are you so sure about that? Take a look at yourself. Take a look at everything that's happened over the past year and a half. And then ask yourself if you really are any better than that panda."

The middle Tendo sister tossed the ball at the boy-turned-girl. It bounced three times on the ground before rolling towards Ranma's feet.

"Make no doubts about it, Saotome, I will protect my family. Even from you." Nabiki dusted her hands off, her footsteps creaking on the floor all the way to the shoji doors. "So either get your act together, or get out."

Ranma watched the shadows once again engulf the girl as the doors slid shut, then dropped her gaze down at her hands, blackened from the soot, the damp and ripped sleeves of the now ill-fitting suit hanging over small, dirty palms.

"Ain't nuthin' like him . . . "