BURNT OKONAMIYAKI PRODUCTIONS
"Fanfiction... grilled to perfection!"
IS PROUD TO PRESENT
Elliott Belser's
Mousse The Hunter
A word from the Boring Legal Guy: All resemblance to real persons, living or dead,
without satiric content is purely coincidental, all characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi,
Kitty Film, Shogakugan and Viz Communications except for the original characters, such as
Hayama-senpai and others who are the intellectual property of Elliott Belser, please, I
beg of you don't sue us, void where prohibited, limit one per customer, etc. etc. ad
nauseum.
_This_ represents Italics.
PROLOGUE
There are three forces on this earth - three forces that permeate our souls, our
societies, the very nature of what we do. These three forces have shaped humanity from
the beginning of time, and will do so to the end of time.
The first two powers are those of Good and Evil. At the base of our being lay
instincts and passions that can be shaped and twisted to either - the desire for power, the
desire for companionship, the desire for security, the desire for love and for the act of love,
and many others.
Shaping these powers into Evil is easy - the desire for power can turn to
ruthlessness and the desire to rape. Companionship can be by fiat. Security can be
through violence, deceit, and weaponry. Love can turn into lechery and lust and soulless
sex.
But they can be shaped into Good, which keeps the powers of Evil in check.
Power can be gained by virtue of your honor and honesty and hard work.
Companionship can be gained through trust and empathy. Security gained by your
example and by taking charge of fighting the evils in this world is a wonderful thing. And a
follower of the ideals of True Love is an example of the powers of Good at work.
These two powers check and balance each other. With too much good, then Man
would be complacent and passive, allowing Evil leaders to take hold of the reins of
society. Likewise, when Evil is everywhere, then Good will blaze through the darkness
and form light.
But the third and most powerful force is Fate.
Fate guides us and shapes us, makes events happen and then makes the effects
of that event happen as well. Good men have been shaped by Fate to wish to uphold
noble ideals; Evil men have been embittered by Fate. Although it is not simply Fate, but
man's response to Fate, that determined one's true destiny - the personality that shapes
the response to Fate has been shaped by Fate itself. Fate reigns supreme.
Fate smiled upon Ranma Saotome, it seemed, by granting him great power - but in
a roundabout way. Fate enjoys making one's life miserable and having them struggle
through before it is satisfied and grants a charmed Fate. To the victor go the spoils, after
all.
But if fate gave Mousse these trials, instead, then the would may be changed
considerably.
As it happened to be, in one world, Fate granted Ranma power. But Fate is ever
curious. And she enjoys seeing what may have been. If it pleases her, somewhere,
somehow, it has been. And she wished to see what the fate of a Mousse who went
through trial by fire would be.
So be it. An exile was forced to Jusenkyo, the Accursed Springs, where the
power of Fate is mighty indeed. The presence of Evil rallies the forces of Good into battle.
And so, Fate made this exile fall into a spring where a being of true Evil slept...
PART ONE: The Phoenix Rises, the Hawk Stirs
The exile gasped as she tumbled headlong into the spring.
"Oh, too bad," the Guide said, shaking his head. "You fall in Spring of
Drowned..."
Suddenly, the guide remembered that she had fallen into the Spring of Drowned
Demon. His eyes bulged out with fear at the horned, paleskinned, and most definitely evil
woman who was floating out of the pool and he ran screaming for the Joketsuzoku Village.
This suited the being that slept in the pool. Admittedly, a female body was never
his style, but no matter. He had bigger fish to fry then getting a male body... like defeating
the scum who trapped him _and_ his host. Azoroth levitated off, then made his way to a
horrible destiny.
Rejoice! For it was the Day of Womanhood for Xyian P'u. She had seen 13
summers and winters gone since the day her mother brought her into the world. 13
springs and autumns. And now, the future Matriarch had bled the Blood of Life, and was
proclaimed to be a woman; and a woman who followed the precepts of the Tigress, no
less!
Her great grandmother and Matriarch, Ku Lohn, stood there smiling as she perched
on her knarled peachwood staff, cobweblike hair dangling down to brush the ground.
Xyian was in full regalia, in a suit of gilt armor with a flowing red skirt below it, her sword at
her hip and her maces on her back. Her flowing indigo hair was drawn up in a long braid
of five twists and pinned off with a set of jade combs. She looked splendid and knew it,
and she smiled out at the throng of crowds, leaning towards Ku Lohn.
"Grandmother," she whispered, "this dress is hot and itchy. Must I wear it?"
"It is the symbol of your coming of age, Great Grandchild," Ku Lohn chided, then
smiled broadly with a toothless, withered smile. "Come now. You should be happy.
You're now a warrior of the tribe, and you can go out on our hunts and participate in the
Tournament."
The hunts! The Tournament! Xyian had nearly forgotten. She nodded slowly,
then her smile turned into a small, knowing one, instead of the mask of before. As the first
of the people came up, bearing gifts, she accepted them, and on the spur of the moment
came up with sayings of her Great Grandmother as a gift in return.
"Thank you. And in return, a word of wisdom: A courageous one is one who takes
fear as nothing more than information, Tsu Pai-Tsu."
"Many thanks, Lo Tsyuon. In return, I tell you this: Do not forget the means when
you devise your ends."
"Thank you, sisters. Remember this always, precious ones; a tiny mouse may
yet defeat a mighty elephant."
She was about to nod to the next one and give a saying, when she saw him. A
man had dared to walk up to her and give a gift. She was about to push him away when
she recognized exactly who it was, in that white robe, with those raven tresses. Her face
flushed. _How dare he?_ she thought at the same time as she admired him, however
unconsciously, for doing this for her.
"Never send a man to do a woman's job, Mu Zhao," she said flatly.
"Shampoo," he pined, using her nickname. _How dare he! _"Do you think that I of
all people would not give you something on your Day of Womanhood?"
"I would have thought you would have the sense to drop it off discreetly without
coming to me," Xyian said with frost.
"Then you wouldn't have known who it was from," Mu Zhao explained.
"Knowing you, it would have been flamboyant and impractical, just like you."
Mousse flushed. It was expensive, and it was impractical and flamboyant. But
he knew that Xyian would have enjoyed it. It was a silver brooch in the shape of a
butterfly, with a single small diamond in the middle. He had traded in one of his favorite
daggers for it, his carving knife from his days as a woodcarver, and a small pouch of gold
for it. But if it was for Shampoo, no price was too...
Xyian cut off that line of thought by continuing her little speech. "Only fools rush in
where angels fear to tread, Mousse."
"And it is the way of humans to ignore their own feelings of love until they must
express them in the open, Xyian," Mu Zhao shot back automatically before he even
realized what he was saying.
A collective gasp arose from the crowd as Shampoo turned a deep red color,
staring in outrage at Mu Zhao, who had clapped both long-sleeved hands over his mouth
in shock. Xyian started to stammer a reply, her heart pounding furiously as Ku Lohn
whipped Mousse's back with her staff.
"Ku Lohn, don't, please, not today," Xyian pleaded.
"How dare you be so impertinent to my child!" Ku Lohn snarled, bringing down her
staff on him again and again, and then again... right below Mousse's eye. The eye
deformed, but held, although Mousse would never see well again as Xyian gasped.
It was then that they heard the scream.
It was from the guards at the outskirts of town. Cologne stopped, her head turning
in fear as Shampoo cringed and Mousse groaned and got up, battered and bloody.
"I... I never thought she would do that to you," she whispered, crying.
"Shampoo..." Mousse groaned, "I'm sorry I ruined your Day."
Xyian blushed again, turned, then came face to face with a demon.
Her blood turned to ice water in her veins. She gasped, scurrying away from it on
all fours, but it was too fast for her. Soon it got up and sidled towards her. Shampoo tried
to scream for help, and it was coming, but ineffective. Warrior after warrior was struck
down as they plunged helplessly at the demon. One warrior recognized, however, that
this was a demon born of an Accursed Spring.
"This technique spans 3000 years of Joketsuzoku history," Ku Lohn started,
waving her arms in a Tai Chi movement, "during which time it survived us well against the
accursed Musk." She took a deep breath. "STEAMING TIDAL BLAST! HAIIIYAHHH!"
The name may have been less than worthy of the creature it was supposed to
fight, but the raging torrent of Ki-created boiling water was as it coursed, steaming through
the air and hit the demon. Ku Lohn shouted in triumph.
But it was in vain. The water turned to ice around the demon's aura of chill, and it
ignored the onslaught. Soon it gripped Shampoo's face with it's claws, and she could
only gasp in terror as it lunged for her face.
But then a dagger ricocheted off of the demon's scaly hide, and it turned towards
the offender.
"Get your filthy hands off of her," Mousse hissed, three daggers at the ready, his
bloodied and broken form lurching in an attempt to stand up. Pain coursed through his
body as he fought to get up.
This amused the demon, who released Shampoo from it's grasp and slid towards
Mousse. He gasped and backpedaled, throwing his daggers and then a boomerang
hatchet at it only to see it bounce. He thought it was hopeless.
Then he remembered the pin he had bought for Shampoo. It was silver.
Fishing it out of his robe, he held it in his hands as the demon came up and
gripped it's face. It lunged toward him, mouth ready to bite.
Mousse sneered and sunk the pin into the demon's eye.
It howled in pain. The silver burned it, weakened it's powers, giving Ku Lohn a
split-second opening. She took it.
"STEAMING TIDAL BLAST!" she shrieked as the water-bolt hit it's target. This
time, the target changed into an Amazon, just exiled, dead from the spears and the pin it
it's eye, slumped in a bloodied mess on the ground. Ku Lohn sighed in relief.
But there was another bloodied heap that Ku Lohn didn't even acknowledge.
Xyian P'u did, however... and she touched the hand of the person that had... that had
fought for her.
It was tainted with the chill of death. Cold as ice. His head was bleeding from
where the monster had touched him. As almost an afterthought, Xyian P'u touched her
own forehead and found that there were small creeks of red running down her cheeks. But
that really didn't concern her as much.
_He died for me._ She ran that unsavory thought over in her head as tears welled
up in her eyes. _Mousse... died... for... me._
Xyian did the only thing she could do. She curled up into a ball and cried, quietly.
The Amazon way. No pitiful howls, no moans of despair, just trickles of water and
depression running down her cheeks, turning pink where they washed away the
evidence of dual wounds. She stayed like that for a long time, an eternity to her.
A rough hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up into the glistening eyes of her
great grandmother. "Child," she said softly, gravely, "You must have those wounds
stanched. Those are not serious wounds, but they must be dealt with, lest they be
infected."
Xyian, expressionless, got up to do as she was bidden.
She stopped.
A memory in her mind narrowed her eyes to razors as she turned to cut them into
Ku Lohn. Her face was in a horrified and furious sneer.
"You beat him for _giving me a present,_" Xyian said softly but coldly. "If you
didn't, he may have survived."
Ku Lohn was genuinely puzzled. "Child, what are you talking about?"
_"I AM NOT A CHILD!"_ Xyian screamed.
Ku Lohn and the others gathered had the decency to flinch. Xyian was trembling,
a hazy sheen of purple bordering on red enveloping her, pointing an accusing finger at Ku
Lohn. She pogoed back a few steps and blinked, actually cowering before her 13 year
old daughter.
"Mousse _died_ from the wounds you gave him!" she screeched. "He was
almost as hardy as I am! I took the same wounds from the demon and _I survived!"_
Xyian was lost to rage now, her aura writing like a living shade around her. "He was
weakened from your beating! YOOUuuhh..." Xyian collapsed, sobbing. "You killed him.
You _killed_ him."
"But ch... Shampoo," Ku Lohn pleaded tactfully. "He died saving your life. It is
not a dishonorable death. And besides, you always wanted him out of your life..." Ku
Lohn could have immediately kicked herself for saying that.
Xyian leapt up in uncontrollable rage. It took the combined efforts of Lo Tyson,
Tsu Pai Tsu, and Poki to keep her from tearing into her great grandmother with murder on
her mind. Finally the adrenaline and stress and depression balled up into one incapitaing
wound, and Xyian fell down sobbing. She morosely, almost automatically, took
something from out of Mousse's hand, and then she walked over to the accursed outcast
and... touched her face...?
No. She took the pin - Mu Zhao's gift - out from her eye and rubbed the blood off
with her spit and her sleeve. She pinned it onto her chest. Only then did she walk
weakly off into the healers hut, punching a haystack rather hard as she went.
A man in a green hat and jacket with a red star on both peeked out with a black
eye. "Is demon gone now?" he asked.
Cologne looked at Mousse's prone body, ignoring the Jusenkyo guide. She
checked his pulse, his breathing, and his aura and found nothing. And she sighed.
"Xyian is right," she sighed. "It is my fault. He is dead."
A projectile - a blunt silver and diamond tipped arrow - sang into Mousse,
bouncing off of his body as he contorted and groaned. Ku Lohn's eyes bulged to the size
of dinner plates as she turned.
"And I say," the woman at her back said, white hooded cloak about her head and
longbow ready with another such arrow knocked, "that he is alive - but his soul is
wounded and requires my care!"
Ku Lohn gasped. "Elder Hunter Hayama?!"
And it was she. She swept back her headpiece to reveal flowing white hair,
drawn back into a bun held with two more arrows; her face was scarred and forty years
old but not unkind, perhaps even beautiful. Her eyes were a piercing green. A white
cloak with the symbol of a Hunter - in gold and ruby - was flowing around her. She put
one hand on her memory-metal blade, and her eyes bore into the Joketsuzoku around her.
"Yes, Ku Lohn," she said grimly, "I have returned from my Hunt. Alive, as you
see. And I have fought in the state that he - " he gestured to Mu Zhao with an arrow - "is
in, and won. You would have taken me for dead, too - but I know more of soul battles
then you do." She chuckled. "The very fact that he is still fighting shows his potential.
He is strong of emotion, strong of passion and soul!" Hayama grinned. "A perfect
successor - if I can help him survive, that is."
The crowd gasped. A _male_ Hunter? Such a thing was never allowed! Only
women had the emotional maturity to even...
...and yet Mu Zhao was mature. And passionate, and caring. Even Ku Lohn had
to admit it. And those were the marks of a great Hunter. Even as they mulled the thought
over, Hayama held her hands around Mu Zhao's brow - and fell comatose.
But in less than two breathless minutes, they both stirred. Mousse groaned in
pain, and rose up, one eye turned a pale blue. Hayama sprung up and helped Mousse
to scramble to his feet, then she brushed his wounds with a white fire and they
disappeared. She did the same to his pale eye... but she could not heal it.
"Can't... see..." Mu Zhao moaned. "I can't see... everything is a blur..."
"It seems that the demon you fought wounded your eye," Hayama said smoothly
as Cologne flinched. "When you are in a spirit battle, your body... reacts to wounding in
strange ways. But this is a sign that you can use The Sight."
Mu Zhao was confused. "Hayama, what is The Sight?"
"It is the ability to identify different people by reading their souls, Mousse,"
Hayama explained. "Every person's aura is different." The Hunter paused, then turned
directly to Mousse. "What is your Totem?"
"My totem?" he asked in surprise, looking to the Elders in bewilderment.
"...h...hawk," he wavered.
"A Hawk," Hayama smiled. "Well, little Hawk, perhaps you will take this
Jackrabbit and soar to greater heights. I explained to you about whether or not you
wanted to become a Hunter." Mu Zhao nodded. "Well, now is your chance."
"When did you ask this?!" Ku Lohn demanded.
"While I was still fighting for my soul, Great Grandmother," Mousse snapped.
Then he thought. And thought. And pondered her offer. From what he had heard, it was
risky... but he would become powerful. And a builder; he would not just destroy. But
there was just one thing...
"With no disrespect, Elder Hayama, I could not bear life without Xyian. Could she
come with us?" The crowd gasped as Mousse asked his question, for a reason that he
could not fathom. He turned in dismay, but Hayama spun him back.
"Would you ask someone you love to put themselves in danger?" Hayama asked.
Mu Zhao had his answer to this question already. "If she would have a chance to
achieve greatness through it... yes." he replied.
"A good answer," Hayama said. "A very wise answer. In fact, I..."
"Shampoo thinks you are dead, Mu Zhao."
The twain turned to Ku Lohn, who was facing off into the distance with her eyes
closed. In her hand was a boomerang hatchet... the very one that Mousse had thrown at
the demon. She sighed. Hard enough not realizing that Shampoo loved him, she mused;
harder still dealing with this knowledge after Mu Zhao's alleged death.
And even harder after his miraculous recovery.
Mousse sighed. "Cologne... I... I didn't know..." His head drooped. "At least I
saved his life."
It took some thought for her to decide what to do. The decision was surprisingly
easy, once she had weighed the options, wrestled with the moral angles of it, and with
the psychological trauma of Xyian's perception of the events.
"Mousse," she sighed, "Go with Hayama. Learn. Become a Hunter. But do not
give your farewells to my daughter. She must think that you are dead and gone for her to
truly heal from these psychic scars. She will learn to be self-reliant, and like a phoenix,
rise from her ashes and yours to become one of our finest warriors." Ku Lohn tried her
best attempt at a warm smile, and it was genuine. If it was not sunny, it was at least well
intentioned. "Perhaps, after your training and her healing is done, you may meet her
again. Until this time she will know you as dead, and we will erect a monument in your
memory." She turned to Hayama. "Is this satisfactory, Elder?"
Hayama thought, and closed her eyes. "It is best," she intoned.
Mu Zhao thought about it trying to protest... then he sighed. "Of course. It is
best for Xyian."
He began to turn away to gather his things, then he turned to stare at Cologne.
"But when my training is complete, I will return for my Shampoo," he promised.
And with that, he and Hayama turned and left on their Hunt.
*****
Oh yeah, going down the RAAC
Readin' lotsa fanfics,
Tryin' one of my own,
Postin' it up real quick!
Well, C&C is welcome,
And praise is welcome too,
But flame my little fanfic
And here's what I'll say to you:
EAT BURNT OKONAMIYAKI YOU JACKASS!!! YOUR MOTHER WAS A
HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLS OF AKANE'S CURRY!!!
Ja Autode,
Elliott Belser
ElliottBelser@netscape. net
"Fanfiction... grilled to perfection!"
IS PROUD TO PRESENT
Elliott Belser's
Mousse The Hunter
A word from the Boring Legal Guy: All resemblance to real persons, living or dead,
without satiric content is purely coincidental, all characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi,
Kitty Film, Shogakugan and Viz Communications except for the original characters, such as
Hayama-senpai and others who are the intellectual property of Elliott Belser, please, I
beg of you don't sue us, void where prohibited, limit one per customer, etc. etc. ad
nauseum.
_This_ represents Italics.
PROLOGUE
There are three forces on this earth - three forces that permeate our souls, our
societies, the very nature of what we do. These three forces have shaped humanity from
the beginning of time, and will do so to the end of time.
The first two powers are those of Good and Evil. At the base of our being lay
instincts and passions that can be shaped and twisted to either - the desire for power, the
desire for companionship, the desire for security, the desire for love and for the act of love,
and many others.
Shaping these powers into Evil is easy - the desire for power can turn to
ruthlessness and the desire to rape. Companionship can be by fiat. Security can be
through violence, deceit, and weaponry. Love can turn into lechery and lust and soulless
sex.
But they can be shaped into Good, which keeps the powers of Evil in check.
Power can be gained by virtue of your honor and honesty and hard work.
Companionship can be gained through trust and empathy. Security gained by your
example and by taking charge of fighting the evils in this world is a wonderful thing. And a
follower of the ideals of True Love is an example of the powers of Good at work.
These two powers check and balance each other. With too much good, then Man
would be complacent and passive, allowing Evil leaders to take hold of the reins of
society. Likewise, when Evil is everywhere, then Good will blaze through the darkness
and form light.
But the third and most powerful force is Fate.
Fate guides us and shapes us, makes events happen and then makes the effects
of that event happen as well. Good men have been shaped by Fate to wish to uphold
noble ideals; Evil men have been embittered by Fate. Although it is not simply Fate, but
man's response to Fate, that determined one's true destiny - the personality that shapes
the response to Fate has been shaped by Fate itself. Fate reigns supreme.
Fate smiled upon Ranma Saotome, it seemed, by granting him great power - but in
a roundabout way. Fate enjoys making one's life miserable and having them struggle
through before it is satisfied and grants a charmed Fate. To the victor go the spoils, after
all.
But if fate gave Mousse these trials, instead, then the would may be changed
considerably.
As it happened to be, in one world, Fate granted Ranma power. But Fate is ever
curious. And she enjoys seeing what may have been. If it pleases her, somewhere,
somehow, it has been. And she wished to see what the fate of a Mousse who went
through trial by fire would be.
So be it. An exile was forced to Jusenkyo, the Accursed Springs, where the
power of Fate is mighty indeed. The presence of Evil rallies the forces of Good into battle.
And so, Fate made this exile fall into a spring where a being of true Evil slept...
PART ONE: The Phoenix Rises, the Hawk Stirs
The exile gasped as she tumbled headlong into the spring.
"Oh, too bad," the Guide said, shaking his head. "You fall in Spring of
Drowned..."
Suddenly, the guide remembered that she had fallen into the Spring of Drowned
Demon. His eyes bulged out with fear at the horned, paleskinned, and most definitely evil
woman who was floating out of the pool and he ran screaming for the Joketsuzoku Village.
This suited the being that slept in the pool. Admittedly, a female body was never
his style, but no matter. He had bigger fish to fry then getting a male body... like defeating
the scum who trapped him _and_ his host. Azoroth levitated off, then made his way to a
horrible destiny.
Rejoice! For it was the Day of Womanhood for Xyian P'u. She had seen 13
summers and winters gone since the day her mother brought her into the world. 13
springs and autumns. And now, the future Matriarch had bled the Blood of Life, and was
proclaimed to be a woman; and a woman who followed the precepts of the Tigress, no
less!
Her great grandmother and Matriarch, Ku Lohn, stood there smiling as she perched
on her knarled peachwood staff, cobweblike hair dangling down to brush the ground.
Xyian was in full regalia, in a suit of gilt armor with a flowing red skirt below it, her sword at
her hip and her maces on her back. Her flowing indigo hair was drawn up in a long braid
of five twists and pinned off with a set of jade combs. She looked splendid and knew it,
and she smiled out at the throng of crowds, leaning towards Ku Lohn.
"Grandmother," she whispered, "this dress is hot and itchy. Must I wear it?"
"It is the symbol of your coming of age, Great Grandchild," Ku Lohn chided, then
smiled broadly with a toothless, withered smile. "Come now. You should be happy.
You're now a warrior of the tribe, and you can go out on our hunts and participate in the
Tournament."
The hunts! The Tournament! Xyian had nearly forgotten. She nodded slowly,
then her smile turned into a small, knowing one, instead of the mask of before. As the first
of the people came up, bearing gifts, she accepted them, and on the spur of the moment
came up with sayings of her Great Grandmother as a gift in return.
"Thank you. And in return, a word of wisdom: A courageous one is one who takes
fear as nothing more than information, Tsu Pai-Tsu."
"Many thanks, Lo Tsyuon. In return, I tell you this: Do not forget the means when
you devise your ends."
"Thank you, sisters. Remember this always, precious ones; a tiny mouse may
yet defeat a mighty elephant."
She was about to nod to the next one and give a saying, when she saw him. A
man had dared to walk up to her and give a gift. She was about to push him away when
she recognized exactly who it was, in that white robe, with those raven tresses. Her face
flushed. _How dare he?_ she thought at the same time as she admired him, however
unconsciously, for doing this for her.
"Never send a man to do a woman's job, Mu Zhao," she said flatly.
"Shampoo," he pined, using her nickname. _How dare he! _"Do you think that I of
all people would not give you something on your Day of Womanhood?"
"I would have thought you would have the sense to drop it off discreetly without
coming to me," Xyian said with frost.
"Then you wouldn't have known who it was from," Mu Zhao explained.
"Knowing you, it would have been flamboyant and impractical, just like you."
Mousse flushed. It was expensive, and it was impractical and flamboyant. But
he knew that Xyian would have enjoyed it. It was a silver brooch in the shape of a
butterfly, with a single small diamond in the middle. He had traded in one of his favorite
daggers for it, his carving knife from his days as a woodcarver, and a small pouch of gold
for it. But if it was for Shampoo, no price was too...
Xyian cut off that line of thought by continuing her little speech. "Only fools rush in
where angels fear to tread, Mousse."
"And it is the way of humans to ignore their own feelings of love until they must
express them in the open, Xyian," Mu Zhao shot back automatically before he even
realized what he was saying.
A collective gasp arose from the crowd as Shampoo turned a deep red color,
staring in outrage at Mu Zhao, who had clapped both long-sleeved hands over his mouth
in shock. Xyian started to stammer a reply, her heart pounding furiously as Ku Lohn
whipped Mousse's back with her staff.
"Ku Lohn, don't, please, not today," Xyian pleaded.
"How dare you be so impertinent to my child!" Ku Lohn snarled, bringing down her
staff on him again and again, and then again... right below Mousse's eye. The eye
deformed, but held, although Mousse would never see well again as Xyian gasped.
It was then that they heard the scream.
It was from the guards at the outskirts of town. Cologne stopped, her head turning
in fear as Shampoo cringed and Mousse groaned and got up, battered and bloody.
"I... I never thought she would do that to you," she whispered, crying.
"Shampoo..." Mousse groaned, "I'm sorry I ruined your Day."
Xyian blushed again, turned, then came face to face with a demon.
Her blood turned to ice water in her veins. She gasped, scurrying away from it on
all fours, but it was too fast for her. Soon it got up and sidled towards her. Shampoo tried
to scream for help, and it was coming, but ineffective. Warrior after warrior was struck
down as they plunged helplessly at the demon. One warrior recognized, however, that
this was a demon born of an Accursed Spring.
"This technique spans 3000 years of Joketsuzoku history," Ku Lohn started,
waving her arms in a Tai Chi movement, "during which time it survived us well against the
accursed Musk." She took a deep breath. "STEAMING TIDAL BLAST! HAIIIYAHHH!"
The name may have been less than worthy of the creature it was supposed to
fight, but the raging torrent of Ki-created boiling water was as it coursed, steaming through
the air and hit the demon. Ku Lohn shouted in triumph.
But it was in vain. The water turned to ice around the demon's aura of chill, and it
ignored the onslaught. Soon it gripped Shampoo's face with it's claws, and she could
only gasp in terror as it lunged for her face.
But then a dagger ricocheted off of the demon's scaly hide, and it turned towards
the offender.
"Get your filthy hands off of her," Mousse hissed, three daggers at the ready, his
bloodied and broken form lurching in an attempt to stand up. Pain coursed through his
body as he fought to get up.
This amused the demon, who released Shampoo from it's grasp and slid towards
Mousse. He gasped and backpedaled, throwing his daggers and then a boomerang
hatchet at it only to see it bounce. He thought it was hopeless.
Then he remembered the pin he had bought for Shampoo. It was silver.
Fishing it out of his robe, he held it in his hands as the demon came up and
gripped it's face. It lunged toward him, mouth ready to bite.
Mousse sneered and sunk the pin into the demon's eye.
It howled in pain. The silver burned it, weakened it's powers, giving Ku Lohn a
split-second opening. She took it.
"STEAMING TIDAL BLAST!" she shrieked as the water-bolt hit it's target. This
time, the target changed into an Amazon, just exiled, dead from the spears and the pin it
it's eye, slumped in a bloodied mess on the ground. Ku Lohn sighed in relief.
But there was another bloodied heap that Ku Lohn didn't even acknowledge.
Xyian P'u did, however... and she touched the hand of the person that had... that had
fought for her.
It was tainted with the chill of death. Cold as ice. His head was bleeding from
where the monster had touched him. As almost an afterthought, Xyian P'u touched her
own forehead and found that there were small creeks of red running down her cheeks. But
that really didn't concern her as much.
_He died for me._ She ran that unsavory thought over in her head as tears welled
up in her eyes. _Mousse... died... for... me._
Xyian did the only thing she could do. She curled up into a ball and cried, quietly.
The Amazon way. No pitiful howls, no moans of despair, just trickles of water and
depression running down her cheeks, turning pink where they washed away the
evidence of dual wounds. She stayed like that for a long time, an eternity to her.
A rough hand fell on her shoulder. She looked up into the glistening eyes of her
great grandmother. "Child," she said softly, gravely, "You must have those wounds
stanched. Those are not serious wounds, but they must be dealt with, lest they be
infected."
Xyian, expressionless, got up to do as she was bidden.
She stopped.
A memory in her mind narrowed her eyes to razors as she turned to cut them into
Ku Lohn. Her face was in a horrified and furious sneer.
"You beat him for _giving me a present,_" Xyian said softly but coldly. "If you
didn't, he may have survived."
Ku Lohn was genuinely puzzled. "Child, what are you talking about?"
_"I AM NOT A CHILD!"_ Xyian screamed.
Ku Lohn and the others gathered had the decency to flinch. Xyian was trembling,
a hazy sheen of purple bordering on red enveloping her, pointing an accusing finger at Ku
Lohn. She pogoed back a few steps and blinked, actually cowering before her 13 year
old daughter.
"Mousse _died_ from the wounds you gave him!" she screeched. "He was
almost as hardy as I am! I took the same wounds from the demon and _I survived!"_
Xyian was lost to rage now, her aura writing like a living shade around her. "He was
weakened from your beating! YOOUuuhh..." Xyian collapsed, sobbing. "You killed him.
You _killed_ him."
"But ch... Shampoo," Ku Lohn pleaded tactfully. "He died saving your life. It is
not a dishonorable death. And besides, you always wanted him out of your life..." Ku
Lohn could have immediately kicked herself for saying that.
Xyian leapt up in uncontrollable rage. It took the combined efforts of Lo Tyson,
Tsu Pai Tsu, and Poki to keep her from tearing into her great grandmother with murder on
her mind. Finally the adrenaline and stress and depression balled up into one incapitaing
wound, and Xyian fell down sobbing. She morosely, almost automatically, took
something from out of Mousse's hand, and then she walked over to the accursed outcast
and... touched her face...?
No. She took the pin - Mu Zhao's gift - out from her eye and rubbed the blood off
with her spit and her sleeve. She pinned it onto her chest. Only then did she walk
weakly off into the healers hut, punching a haystack rather hard as she went.
A man in a green hat and jacket with a red star on both peeked out with a black
eye. "Is demon gone now?" he asked.
Cologne looked at Mousse's prone body, ignoring the Jusenkyo guide. She
checked his pulse, his breathing, and his aura and found nothing. And she sighed.
"Xyian is right," she sighed. "It is my fault. He is dead."
A projectile - a blunt silver and diamond tipped arrow - sang into Mousse,
bouncing off of his body as he contorted and groaned. Ku Lohn's eyes bulged to the size
of dinner plates as she turned.
"And I say," the woman at her back said, white hooded cloak about her head and
longbow ready with another such arrow knocked, "that he is alive - but his soul is
wounded and requires my care!"
Ku Lohn gasped. "Elder Hunter Hayama?!"
And it was she. She swept back her headpiece to reveal flowing white hair,
drawn back into a bun held with two more arrows; her face was scarred and forty years
old but not unkind, perhaps even beautiful. Her eyes were a piercing green. A white
cloak with the symbol of a Hunter - in gold and ruby - was flowing around her. She put
one hand on her memory-metal blade, and her eyes bore into the Joketsuzoku around her.
"Yes, Ku Lohn," she said grimly, "I have returned from my Hunt. Alive, as you
see. And I have fought in the state that he - " he gestured to Mu Zhao with an arrow - "is
in, and won. You would have taken me for dead, too - but I know more of soul battles
then you do." She chuckled. "The very fact that he is still fighting shows his potential.
He is strong of emotion, strong of passion and soul!" Hayama grinned. "A perfect
successor - if I can help him survive, that is."
The crowd gasped. A _male_ Hunter? Such a thing was never allowed! Only
women had the emotional maturity to even...
...and yet Mu Zhao was mature. And passionate, and caring. Even Ku Lohn had
to admit it. And those were the marks of a great Hunter. Even as they mulled the thought
over, Hayama held her hands around Mu Zhao's brow - and fell comatose.
But in less than two breathless minutes, they both stirred. Mousse groaned in
pain, and rose up, one eye turned a pale blue. Hayama sprung up and helped Mousse
to scramble to his feet, then she brushed his wounds with a white fire and they
disappeared. She did the same to his pale eye... but she could not heal it.
"Can't... see..." Mu Zhao moaned. "I can't see... everything is a blur..."
"It seems that the demon you fought wounded your eye," Hayama said smoothly
as Cologne flinched. "When you are in a spirit battle, your body... reacts to wounding in
strange ways. But this is a sign that you can use The Sight."
Mu Zhao was confused. "Hayama, what is The Sight?"
"It is the ability to identify different people by reading their souls, Mousse,"
Hayama explained. "Every person's aura is different." The Hunter paused, then turned
directly to Mousse. "What is your Totem?"
"My totem?" he asked in surprise, looking to the Elders in bewilderment.
"...h...hawk," he wavered.
"A Hawk," Hayama smiled. "Well, little Hawk, perhaps you will take this
Jackrabbit and soar to greater heights. I explained to you about whether or not you
wanted to become a Hunter." Mu Zhao nodded. "Well, now is your chance."
"When did you ask this?!" Ku Lohn demanded.
"While I was still fighting for my soul, Great Grandmother," Mousse snapped.
Then he thought. And thought. And pondered her offer. From what he had heard, it was
risky... but he would become powerful. And a builder; he would not just destroy. But
there was just one thing...
"With no disrespect, Elder Hayama, I could not bear life without Xyian. Could she
come with us?" The crowd gasped as Mousse asked his question, for a reason that he
could not fathom. He turned in dismay, but Hayama spun him back.
"Would you ask someone you love to put themselves in danger?" Hayama asked.
Mu Zhao had his answer to this question already. "If she would have a chance to
achieve greatness through it... yes." he replied.
"A good answer," Hayama said. "A very wise answer. In fact, I..."
"Shampoo thinks you are dead, Mu Zhao."
The twain turned to Ku Lohn, who was facing off into the distance with her eyes
closed. In her hand was a boomerang hatchet... the very one that Mousse had thrown at
the demon. She sighed. Hard enough not realizing that Shampoo loved him, she mused;
harder still dealing with this knowledge after Mu Zhao's alleged death.
And even harder after his miraculous recovery.
Mousse sighed. "Cologne... I... I didn't know..." His head drooped. "At least I
saved his life."
It took some thought for her to decide what to do. The decision was surprisingly
easy, once she had weighed the options, wrestled with the moral angles of it, and with
the psychological trauma of Xyian's perception of the events.
"Mousse," she sighed, "Go with Hayama. Learn. Become a Hunter. But do not
give your farewells to my daughter. She must think that you are dead and gone for her to
truly heal from these psychic scars. She will learn to be self-reliant, and like a phoenix,
rise from her ashes and yours to become one of our finest warriors." Ku Lohn tried her
best attempt at a warm smile, and it was genuine. If it was not sunny, it was at least well
intentioned. "Perhaps, after your training and her healing is done, you may meet her
again. Until this time she will know you as dead, and we will erect a monument in your
memory." She turned to Hayama. "Is this satisfactory, Elder?"
Hayama thought, and closed her eyes. "It is best," she intoned.
Mu Zhao thought about it trying to protest... then he sighed. "Of course. It is
best for Xyian."
He began to turn away to gather his things, then he turned to stare at Cologne.
"But when my training is complete, I will return for my Shampoo," he promised.
And with that, he and Hayama turned and left on their Hunt.
*****
Oh yeah, going down the RAAC
Readin' lotsa fanfics,
Tryin' one of my own,
Postin' it up real quick!
Well, C&C is welcome,
And praise is welcome too,
But flame my little fanfic
And here's what I'll say to you:
EAT BURNT OKONAMIYAKI YOU JACKASS!!! YOUR MOTHER WAS A
HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLS OF AKANE'S CURRY!!!
Ja Autode,
Elliott Belser
ElliottBelser@netscape. net