(originally written in 1997)
Morning brings with it another day of petty annoyances.
I roust myself out of bed at three in the morning- at my age, I find five hours of sleep is all I require- and spend my first hour or so working the stiffness out of my joints. This consists of the basic kata, plus a few additions of my own devising. I finish this off with a quick pre-dawn lap around Nerima, listening to the not-yet-awake suburb as it dreams its dreams of normalcy. I find this refreshes not only my mind but my spirit, for even if I cannot be in my homeland, I can at least see that all is well with my current habitation.
I return home, bathe quickly, only allowing myself a few minutes of sinful bliss in the furo before dressing and preparing myself for the day's labors. The kitchen is immaculate- I would never let it be otherwise. A thin layer of dust on the tables in the restaurant; I must speak to Mousse about this, he must have been distracted by something.
(I swear, you would think being legally blind would make the boy immune from distractions; instead, it seems to have made him spectacularly vulnerable to them. Perhaps it has something to do with his rich fantasy life, most of which centers around my great-granddaughter. How that weakling, soft-hearted male expects to win Shampoo's heart is beyond my comprehension.)
Sake, beer, whiskey all well-stocked, only the finer brands for this establishment. Noodles running a bit low; I shall have to talk to my supplier about increasing my weekly order. Water into the sinks, kettle on the stove for those unfortunate accidents which continually plague this neighborhood... and the clock reads half past five, time to wake the blind idiot up and set him to work.
Yet another thankless day in Nerima.
WHITE LIGHTNING PRODUCTIONS
PRESENTS
A fan story of Ranma 1/2
based on the manga and anime series created by Rumiko Takahashi, (c) 1997 Shogakukan
GOLDEN YEARS
by Kris Overstreet
(All characters in this fic are the property of Takahashi-sama. Not for profit. Please don't sue.)
Seven in the morning, and the breakfast rush begins as the citizens of Nerima begin their trek here and there to work, some here in the neighborhood, others in other suburbs, but most in downtown Tokyo, in the spirit-breaking drudgery which is the ultimate failing of the modern Japanese society.
It's not so bad that the men are kept docile, by and large, in this manner; however, the thought that such servile men lord it at home over even more servile women sends me now and again into a fury which I quell by either burdening Mousse with another pointless, thankless chore or six, or doing something to Son-in-Law.
Since Mousse is currently doing a fairly competent job of dealing with customers, and more importantly since he has only declared his undying love to Great-Granddaughter twice this morning, I decide to focus my efforts on Son-in-Law. Fortunately, today is a school holiday, which means my plan- oh, yes, I have a plan, I work on the problem of Son-in-Law's infidelity all the time- will not interfere with the vital process of education.
I have no objection to the concept of education- far from it. In fact, this is what would make Son-in-Law such a prize catch... his education, even as limited as it is by Japanese standards, will help bring our village forward into the next century. Shampoo will be the leader of our people eventually... and she will need a strong husband, with a knowledge of both worlds, to help her guide our people.
I chose not to send Shampoo to school with Ranma for two reasons: first, I feel her education in our native ways and laws to be more important for her future; and second, the resulting commotion from having the two in the same school would totally prohibit any sort of education at all.
In any case, my plan is simplicity itself. Son-in-Law has never officially acknowledged his marriage to Shampoo. Sure, he claims her as a fiancee, but he also protests loudly any effort to force her- or anybody- onto him. On several occasions, I have attempted to convince him, trick him, or coerce him into acknowledging the engagement, to no avail. This plan has as much chance of success as any other... if it fails, no lasting harm is done, and if it succeeds, well Great-Granddaughter and I can quit this horrid little empire and return home for good.
I prepare a special bowl of breakfast ramen for Son-in-Law... and add several others for that bottomless-stomached, totally amoral, worthless lump of manhood which is his father. To Son-in-Law's bowl I add a small amount of chemical, an agent which subdues emotional extremes and causes mild, temporary, psychoactive changes to the brain. Obviously this is not the first time I- or Shampoo- have attempted to slip something into Ranma's system. Ranma, being the suspicious sort he is, will no doubt insist that Shampoo taste it first.
Which is precisely what I want to happen.
Once the breakfast rush fades, I give another bowl of ramen to Shampoo to give to Mousse. As I expect, he becomes rapt with joy that his 'beloved' has deigned to pay the least bit of attention to him that he completely misses Shampoo departing for the Tendo dojo.
I just can't see how Mousse can maintain his delusions of love with Shampoo. She has made it obvious time and again that she has no interest in a man who will not raise a finger to harm her, much less defeat her in battle as Ranma does. Shampoo cannot love a weakling, and for all his skills in combat, Mousse is weak in the mind; unless he can defeat her in combat, he has no chance with her. I permit his presence because he is a hard worker, and also this way I have some measure of control over his actions. Considering the number of plans his interference has ruined already, I can only shudder at what damage his incompetent meddling could wreak without my restraining influence.
Of course, if Mousse interferes too often, I might have to consider eliminating him completely. I will let nothing stand between my great-granddaughter and her destiny... which includes a long, happy marriage to Ranma Saotome.
And -not- to the fool Mu Tsu.
The plan proceeds as I expected. Shampoo is now a demure, subdued woman, completely unaware of her change in personality. Mousse is overwrought, and of course he suspects me, but at the moment he is off pestering Son-in-Law for his involvement. Any moment I expect Son-in-Law to confront me and demand the antidote for Shampoo... which I will give him only upon his solemn oath to marry Shampoo.
Sure enough, almost to the second I had estimated, Ranma storms in like a righteous wind, and like a wind he blows loud and long, insulting me, accusing me, demanding me, even going so far as to preach to me about how cold and callous I am to toy with my heir's mind so for the sake of a petty Amazon law.
Fool. You know nothing of love, or destiny, or Amazon law.
If the law interfered with my daughter's happiness, I would see it destroyed. Fortunately, however, our law was designed to test our people, and guide them to the happiest of all possible worlds. If a woman defeats an Amazon, the defeated must hunt them down and kill them; this is a law made not merely to drive off interlopers, but to weed out the weak and foolish in our people. If a man defeats an Amazon, the defeated must marry them; this is a law which not only infuses new, strong blood, into our race, but provokes the men of our people to greater efforts, to prevent their childhood loves from running off with some goat-faced hick from old Canton.
And I would never leave Shampoo this way; in fact, the effect will wear off by tomorrow morning by itself, leaving Great-Granddaughter the same energetic, impulsive young girl she normally is. A day of chemically-induced change is a small price to pay if it insures her lifelong happiness.
I hear a clattering behind me; Mousse is in my spice cabinet, he has the antidote in his hands. A splash from the sink puts a stop to this insurrection, and a light tap on the head keeps duck-boy quiet. I put the spice back into the cabinet, shut it securely, and return to putting the pressure on Son-in-Law.
Ranma is obviously wavering. I have no illusions about him loving Shampoo in a romantic fashion- that can come later. However, he does regard Shampoo as a friend, and from what I know of his past, he has precious few people whom he can call friend at all. The fact that he considers Ryouga, a persistent rival, occasional mortal foe, and permanent annoyance, his friend, speaks volumes for the misery his childhood has been. This eagerness to latch on to anyone as a 'friend' is a weakness I can exploit... a few more seconds, and the words shall spill from his lips, irrevocable.
Shampoo leaps into the room, slamming herself atop Ranma, loudly greeting her 'airen' and 'wo ai ni' and crushing his rib cage.
In the corner of my eye, I see Akane Tendo, the spice canister in her hands- Akane Tendo, that interfering girl, why would she restore Shampoo as an apparent rival? Perhaps I have underestimated her cunning...
... alas, Ms. Tendo, you would make a great Amazon, but we are enemies for now... and if all other options are exhausted, I shall have to eliminate you myself.
In any case, my plans are obviously undone, and it is nearing time for the lunch rush, so I acknowlege my defeat and prepare the kitchen. Reluctantly, Shampoo obeys me and releases Son-in-Law, who I suspect will soon have much explaining to do to Ms. Tendo. (The prospect amuses me; were circumstances different, I would wish those two all the best of each other. Alas, destiny calls.)
Hot water wakes Mousse up, and I set him to cleaning out the back alley. He will find the garbage to have tripled since this morning; how this happens is one of my little secrets. Perhaps next time he will not be so quick to interfere with my plans.
Night comes all too quickly for one as old as I am.
The restaurant is silent. Shampoo is dreaming happy dreams of Son-in-Law, and Mousse has finally finished polishing the floors and has crawled into bed. I sit atop the restaurant's roof and contemplate the lights of Tokyo.
I am a creature of the past, bent and shrunken by the weight of wisdom the years have gifted me with. My days are numbered, perhaps I might pass on in my sleep tonight, or perhaps I will live another two hundred years, but eventually I must pass on to meet the ancestors.
And yet I cannot leave, not yet.
I am the past of my people, and Shampoo is the future... and I cannot leave my great-granddaughter with the prospect of a lonely, miserable future, alone, unmarried, shouldering the burdens of guiding the Amazons into the new world alone.
It is said, back in the village, that I can abide no weakness, that I will find what is weak and weed it out.
Perhaps there is something weak in me, for here I am, weeded out of the village, attempting to guide my impulsive heir and her irresponsible fiancee together, wasting the golden years of my life in the attempt to insure the golden years for them.
It is a thankless job, a lonely job, a job I wish sometimes could be left behind.
And yet I cannot let it go.
Ah, well. Sleep comes not easily to me, and a martial artist needs her rest.
And for as long as I have new days to awake to, I will watch over Shampoo, and the Amazons, and guide them onward.
And if I die, I will go to my ancestors proud of my legacy, and secure in the knowledge that my great-granddaughter will carry on for me.
I can only hope that I leave her happy.
Sleep.
*AUTHOR'S NOTE*
This is a short story which portrays the view of Cologne I see- conniving, treacherous, and yet also caring and care-ridden, with her own goals, loves, and desires.
I object to any portrayal of Cologne as an evil creature, with no personality other than required to make Ranma miserable. Even though Takahashi does tend on occasion to paint her characters with broad strokes, there are rounded characters in Ranma 1/2, and to my mind Cologne is one of the most interesting. She deserves better than to be a demon, a ghoul, or a simple plot device.
Ahem. Done preaching now.
Redneck (my first Ranma 1/2 fic, whatcha think?)