Disclaimer-Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. I trespass in her
domain at risk of a lawsuit...but since I have NO MONEY suing me won't do
any good, will it?
**Warning** This story will have some minor mature themes and some parts are a bit on the dark side. I'm a softie though, so don't expect doom and gloom throughout.
Cry for the Children
Prologue #1
In which several of the characters who will be the subject of this tale are introduced and the scene is set for an adventure both great and terrible.
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Japan, countryside, May, 1993
Spring had come to the countryside of Honshu. Cherry blossoms blew in the wind, carrying with them the sweet smell of flowers and the freshness of life's new birth. The peace and beauty, however, were lost entirely on two figures standing at the edge of a square pit. One figure, a small child no more than eight years old, was on his knees, clutching at the leg of an older man. The boy was dressed in old clothes covered in patches. The colors had faded, leaving them stained and bearly wearable. He was also wrapped head-to-toe in sardines. The second figure was dressed in a faded white martial arts gi and wore a kerchief over his bald head. He stood with his hands on his hips, showing little sympathy as the child who clung to him desperately.
"Please, Pop. Please don't throw me in the pit again. It's dark and it's cold and the c-c-animals claw and bite and it hurts and-"
Genma Saotome looked at his son in disgust. "What's wrong with you boy? Do you want to live the rest of your life as a spineless coward? Be a man! Face your fear and conquer it."
"But Pop-"
The boy was interrupted as his father shook him off and picked him up by the back of his shirt. The boy struggled, but to no avail as his father hurled him into the pit.
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Ranma Saotome screamed as the cats tore at his flesh, and as the terror tore at his sanity. The moment he hit the bottom of the pit, the cats were on him. Kept without food until they were half-dead, the cats reacted as one would expect of starved creatures suddenly confronted with a feast. They climbed over each other, hissing and spitting and clawing and biting even at each other in a frenzy of hunger. Those cats that fell in pools of their own blood were leapt upon and eaten by their fellows, but more pushed forward towards the fish-wrapped child. Claws and teeth attacked the fish, and those cats that could not get to the fish shredded his clothes and struck the soft flesh beneath. Ranma's screams mingled with the sounds made by the furious felines.
One of the cats leapt onto the boy's head and dug claws into his face. Ranma shook his head back and forth, throwing the animal off, but more took its place. Ranma called for help, called for his father, screamed at the cats to leave him alone, but no help came, his father either did not hear or did not care, and the cats were too hungry to listen, even if they could have understood.
Ranma felt himself begin to drift, the pain began to dull. He felt something building inside him, something powerful. This was a side of him he had not known existed, a piece of him that did not fear the cats, feared nothing in fact. A primal urge to hunt, to kill, to feed. Ranma sank into a corner as these feelings washed over him, and then he opened his mouth...and meowed.
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Genma Saotome stood with his back to the pit, his hands in his ears. He knew he should pay more attention, but he could not bear to hear his son screaming like a girl in that pit. Surely the boy would come around soon enough, and then they would be able to continue his real training. So the neko-ken had been a bad idea. Surely there were other powerful techniques the boy could learn. Maybe if he dug a pit and filled it with starving dogs...
He was so intent on his thoughts that he never saw the attack coming. He felt claws rake his back, and as he cried out, he saw a blurred form leap over him and lash out with both legs in a powerful kick. Startled, the overweight martial artist stumbled backwards-right into the pit. He cried out as he fell and a moment later, the cats were upon him. Then, it was his turn to scream.
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The beast was free. It knew that much. The fat fool who had hurt it was now suffering the fate meant for it. Had it had a sense of poetic justice, it would have been pleased. As it was, it ran from the site of the pit, ran as far and as fast as it could before finally finding its way to a stand of trees. Selecting a tall, sturdy tree, the beast climbed to a high branch and, making sure the branch would hold it, fell asleep. It was free at last.
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Some time later, a hand reached out of the pit and grasped the edge as Genma pulled himself out of the pit and collapsed, bleeding heavily, on the grass. His gi was badly torn, his kerchief nothing but shreds. He was covered from head to toe in scratches. One of his eyes was closed, a thin trickle of blood flowing from it. It had hurt, being in that pit. It had hurt so much. Was that what the boy had felt? Genma Saotome began to laugh shakily, a laugh that deteriorated into sobs. He had screamed too.
As he lay there on the grass, he began to calm himself. Where had he gone wrong? How badly had he hurt his son? Having had a taste of the pain he had been responsible for, he now realized what kind of father he had been. Opening his mouth, he licked his lips with his tongue and cried out with a voice hoarse from screaming. "RANMA! PLEASE, COME BACK!"
There was no answer. Genma called again, more desperately this time, but again there was no response. Genma's shoulders sagged and somehow, he knew that his son was gone. Perhaps for good.
Unsteadily, Genma got to his feet and did a quick investigation of his wounds. It did not seem that any of them were severe, at least not as severe as he had first thought. The injury to his eye was minor and, with proper treatment, should heal with some time, provided he took care not to strain it. Now was not the time to worry about that though, now was the time to find his boy.
It was unlikely, he knew, that he would find the boy again. As he walked through the countryside, memories plagued Genma. He remembered his own training under Happosai. He remembered his own master's cruelty and his unspoken oath that he would never become anything like him. He had failed in that, he knew that now, and he silently prayed that any kami who might be listening would deem to grant him another chance. From now on, he swore to himself, things would be different. If he could not find the boy, he would return home to Nodoka and tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. If she allowed him to redeem himself, he would strive to be the martial artist he had once dreamed of being, an honourable man, one worthy of respect. And, if his wife decided to force him to fulfill the terms of the contract he had signed with her before his departure, he would at least die as he should have lived, with honour.
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Japan, Tokyo, Nerima Ward, Tendou dojo. May 1993.
Two figures sat on the front porch of the Tendou dojo, cups of tea in their laps. Both were in their late twenties and in excellent physical condition.
The first figure was a man with long black hair that flowed in a wave down past his shoulders. He had a black moustache, immaculately groomed, but was otherwise clean-shaven. He wore a brown gi and had a thoughtful expression on his face.
The second figure was a woman with short auburn hair. She wore a formal kimono set with a floral pattern. Her hair was worn in a bun and from strained look in her eyes, it was obvious that she had recently been crying.
"So, Tendou-san. Will you help me?"
The man smiled, kindness and pity in his eyes. "Please, Nodoka. We are old friends. There's no need for formality between us. Of course I will help you."
The woman smiled and looked relieved. "Thank you Te-Soun. How shall we begin?"
"The beginning is always best. When was the last time you saw my old friend Genma, and your son."
"It was nearly six years ago that I saw them. Genma took Ranma away shortly after he learned to walk. He told me it would be only a brief trip, but he's been gone for so long. Oh Soun, I'm so afraid. If something bad happened to either of them, I-"
She looked as though she was going to cry again. Soun cursed mentally. Why did he have to be the supportive one? He was a weakling himself. He wanted to break down and cry for his dear friend Genma, and for the son whom his friend had been so proud of, the son who would have married one of his daughters. He said none of this though. Instead he placed an arm around Nodoka's shoulders and smiled down at her. "It's alright. I'm sure they are well. You know how Genma easily forgets everything but the Art when it comes to training. I'm sure that both of them are fine." Secretly, he was not so sure. He tried to change the subject. "Have you called the police?"
Nodoka looked shocked. "Of course not! This is a family matter. The police should not intervene in such things."
Soun nodded, wisely keeping his opinions to himself. Nodoka could be old- fashioned at times, he remembered. Still, if that was her wish, he would respect it. "So, what do you suggest that we do?"
"We have to find them, and we have to do it ourselves. I'm sure that in time we can track them down if we work together."
"But...but what about my daughters. They're so young, and without their mother..."
"I suppose you're right. The road is no place for little girls. There's no avoiding it then, I suppose I shall have to go alone."
Soun was caught and he knew it. His daughters were his joy, his life, but Nodoka needed him, and Genma was his friend. Besides, the schools had to be joined. "Of course, I'm sure the Ishidas wouldn't mind if the girls stayed with them for awhile. After all, how long can this take."
Nodoka's mood brightened visibly. "Thank you Soun. I know this is a sacrifice for you...but I don't know where else to turn."
The Tendou patriarch nodded calmly and, getting to his feet, walked back into the house to tell his daughters the news.
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United States of America, New York, New York, July, 1993
"Freak! Freak!"
Calvin Jacobs, Cal to his friends, ducked his head to avoid the trash thrown by the gang of children behind him. He was successful in avoiding the worst of it, but a banana peel shlopped on the back of his head, bits of rotting banana sticking to his fur.
Mentally kicking himself for being seen, Cal ran faster. He'd taken great care, as he always did, to hide his face whenever he went out. Unfortunately, he had been rushed this morning and had failed to tie his hood properly. A strong wind had blown it back, revealing his feline-like appearance for all to see.
Cal was small for his twelve years, but he was quick and he soon outdistanced the children, though their taunts stayed with him. Eventually, he ducked into an alleyway that looked deserted at first glance and set to grooming the bits of banana out of his fur.
Cal's appearance was unusual, to say the least. His orange-red hair, rather than staying where hair normally did, covered his face. His ears were notably catlike, placed farther up the sides of his head and covered in the same orange-red fur on his face. Sometimes, he felt especially comfortable, he had a tendency to purr. Perhaps the most striking features about him, however, were his eyes. Rather than being normal, human eyes, they were bright green and luminescent. In the dark, they glowed. Moreover, they were slit-pupiled like the eyes of a cat. Otherwise, he appeared human.
Finally, having groomed himself to his satisfaction, Cal carefully tied his hood as he considered his next action. Finally, he decided that it would be foolish to return to the market right away, it would be best to go home and try again later in the day, when those who had seen him would either be gone or have forgotten about him. Still, his failure stung him as he dejectedly made his way home.
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As Cal walked, the buildings around him grew more and more dilapidated as he walked through the city slums. All along the sidewalks he passed the people who lived there, the gang members, junkies, pushers, prostitutes, pimps, and those few honest poor folk who simply had nowhere else to go but had not yet fallen to the same lows as most of the others. A few of them waved or nodded to him as he went by, a couple even called out greetings, but most were too sunk into themselves to notice. On the whole, there were two types of people in the slums. Those who still fought for survival, and those who simply waited for death.
Finally, he reached the steps of the broken-down tenement that was both his home, and that of the others. Carefully, he opened up the door and tiptoed inside, hoping that he could reach his room before...
"Yo, Kit!"
Cal gulped and slowly turned around and spoke with a voice that sounded almost mewling. "Umm...yeah Mark?"
Mark was five years older than Cal and a great deal bigger. He towered over the smaller boy as he walked up to Cal cracking his knuckles with a grin on his face. His blonde hair was cut short and died a bright shade of blue. His dark eyes had a glint of expectation.
"Where're the groceries I sent ya for?"
"Well...I-"
"Wait, lemme guess. Yer hood fell off again an' half the city saw yer ugly mug and ya had to run away 'fore they lynched ya, right?"
Cal's head drooped. "Yes."
Mark grabbed Cal's shirt and lifted him up until their faces were at an equal height. "...And ya forgot that I told ya not ta come back without food?"
Cal whimpered. He could smell Mark's breath and knew he'd been drinking again. "I-I was going to go back in a little while, honest."
"Sure ya were, but that doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed me, and you know what happens when ya do that."
Cal never had a chance to reply as Mark's fist struck him in the chest and sent him sprawling halfway across the room. The smaller boy hit the wall and slid down it, but Mark was on him in a flash, kicking at him as he lay there. Cal knew better than to fight back, he had learned that from experience. Instead, he rolled up into a ball and tried as best he could to protect his head and torso. He succeeded...mostly.
The cat-boy's vision blurred. His whole body hurt. His breath came in short gasps as the beating continued. He wondered if he was dying.
"Mark! Stop that!"
Strong hands pulled Mark back and Cal collapsed with a whimper of relief. He heard voices around him, but they seemed strange...distant.
"You psycho! What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"Hey, cool down guys, I was just having a little fun with the kid."
"You call that fun? If I hadn't stopped you, Cal'd be in the hospital right now and you know we can't afford the medical bills for something like that."
"Nah, I didn't hurt 'im that bad. 'Sides, he deserved it."
"Oh yeah? What'd he do, forget to polish your shoes?"
"He didn't get the groceries."
"You sent CAL out to get groceries?"
"Yeah, he has to do something 'round here."
"Why you stupid, incompetent, spineless..."
"Alice, calm down. There's no need for namecalling...even if it is true."
"Hey!"
"You're no fun."
"Mark, we'll settle this later. Alice, help Cal to his room. I'm going to get the groceries. We'll talk about this when I return."
Cal could hear Mark grumble a reply and heard two sets up footsteps walking in opposite directions. A moment later he felt himself being lifted up and carried into his room. A moment later, he was lying in bed as Alice smiled down at him. She was sixteen, four years older than he, and despite the harshness of the life she lived, she could be one of the gentlest people Cal knew, when she was not being sarcastic. She was not without her scars however. They showed in the way she moved, swaying as she walked out of habit, in the way she talked, rough yet enticing, and finally, in her eyes; a terrible pain that she bore in silence. Now, as she sat on the edge of his bed smiling down at him, Cal thought she looked like an angel fallen to Earth. Her long black hair was swept back and expertly combed. She wore a light perfume, cheap, but still nice-smelling. She was half-Chinese, her mother, she had told him once, came over from China on a student visa and, falling in love with a local, decided to stay. As to how she wound up on the streets, Cal had never heard her talk about it, but sometimes at night, when she wasn't out with one of her customers, his keen ears had picked up the sound of crying coming from her room.
Now, she stroked back Cal's hair comfortingly as she wetted a cold cloth and placed it on his forehead. "You'll be alright. I don't think he did anything beyond giving you a few bruises, and as an expert on bruises, I should know."
Cal nodded, his body beginning to relax despite the pain of his injuries. Unconsciously, he began to purr softly as he drifted off to sleep.
Alice waited until Cal was asleep before quietly getting up and tip-toeing out of the room. She shut the door quietly and leaned against it, wiping her brow. "He'll be fine." She smiled softly as she remembered him, lying on the bed purring softly. "He's actually kinda cute, almost exotic in a strange sort of way. It's a pity he's so young..."
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The argument between Mark and the fourth member of the group, Philip, continued throughout the day. Philip, the rarely-disputed leader of the four youngsters, lectured Mark on the foolishness of sending Cal out to get the groceries while Mark maintained that it was his right to do so. Cal, for once however, did not wake up due to the noise and, in fact, slept all day and through the night. When Phil mentioned this to Alice, she simply shrugged and replied "he's part cat, what do you expect?"
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When Cal awoke, it was morning. Lazily he yawned, stretched, and lazily moved off the bed. After quickly dressing, he was about to leave his room when the sound of voices from just outside stopped him.
"You know he's going to have to go" came Alice's voice.
"I know" replied Phil's. "He's nothing but trouble."
"Tell me about it. So, will you tell him, or shall I?"
"I will, it's my responsibility."
"He won't be happy you know."
"I don't care. He brought this on himself."
"When will you tell him?"
"Tonight. Then he can pack his bags and be on his way tomorrow."
"Ok. I suppose that's best."
Cal's hand trembled on the doorknob. They were going to kick him out. They thought he only caused trouble. Fighting the urge to cry, he sat down on his bed before going to pack his bags.
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An hour later, Cal was leaving. All his possessions were packed into a small knapsack and he was climbing out the window of his room with agility that suggested he was part cat in more than just appearance. Reaching the street, he hoisted his pack and headed off down the long road.
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"Aren't you worried Mark will be mad when you tell him he has to leave?"
"Not particularly. I can handle him."
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Cal walked through the crowded streets for hours, the hot July sun making him sweat heavily under his hood, but he did not remove it. He pushed himself through the crowds, attempting to put as much distance between himself and his former home as possible. His feet hurt. His legs hurt. He kept walking until exhaustion took him and he fell unconscious to the sidewalk. The crowd moved around him.
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Cal saw only darkness what seemed like forever, but then there was a pinpoint of light. He opened his eyes, but his vision was too blurred to see properly. He felt that he was lying down on something soft. A bed? Yes, it felt like it. He felt something being pushed into his hands, it felt like...a cup, yes, it was a cup. He heard a soft voice speaking to him.
"Here, drink this and then go back to sleep. You need your rest."
Cal drank, and the water tasted sweet to his parched throat. "W-who- "
"Worry about that later. Just rest for now."
Cal tried to respond, tried to argue, but he felt a wave of tiredness overcome him, and he fell asleep again.
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He awoke again what seemed like only a moment later. Again he was passed a cup and again he drank, feeling relieved. His vision was clearing and, for the first time he got a clear look at his mysterious benefactor.
The man sitting in a chair beside the bed he lay in was neither old nor young. His brown hair was thinning slightly at the front, but had yet to turn gray. He wore glasses perched high on the bridge of his nose and was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.
"Are you feeling better?" The stranger spoke with a thick British accent. "You gave me quite a fright, collapsing on the street like that. Just what were you doing anyway...not that that's my only question. You are quite an intriguing character young man."
"What happened?"
"I asked you a question first. It's only polite that you answer."
"If I answer your question, will you answer mine?"
"Of course, that's only fair."
So Cal told the story of how he came to leave his former home. The stranger listened politely throughout, only interrupting to ask questions when Cal needed to clarify something. Finally, the story ended and the man appeared deep in thought.
"So, you ran away? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to escape such a poor environment. To answer your question, you collapsed from heatstroke. You'd been wandering around in this heat for several hours dressed heavily, and in dark clothing too. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did."
"Who are you?"
"Ah, but I believe it's my turn to ask a question. Why can't you go back to your parents?"
"I can't go back to what I never knew. My parents abandoned me when I was a baby. I always supposed that they saw what I looked like and-"
"I see. As for who I am, my name is Adrian Coyle. I'm a doctor. I saw you collapsed outside my hotel and brought you in. My turn. Forgive me for asking but...what are you? I've never seen anyone like you before."
"I don't know. I've always been like this. So, you're a doctor...Can you make me normal?"
"Normal? Why would you want that? You're fascinating the way you are?"
"I don't want to be fascinating. I want to be able to walk around outside without hiding myself. I want to be able to go to school and hang out with friends without being afraid that people will hate me, or worse, pity me. Please, can you help me?"
Adrian sighed and ran a hand over his thinning hair. "I don't know. Even if I knew what the cause was, genetics isn't my field of study. There may be people who could, but such things cost money, often a great deal of it."
"But there has to be a way!
For a moment, Adrian was quiet, but then he spoke. "How about this. I have a friend who works in the field of genetics. He may be able to assist you if you let him examine you-nothing unusual now, no strange experiments, I promise, but you must admit you are most unusual."
After hesitating a moment, Cal nodded. "A-alright, if you promise, I'll believe you."
"I'll conctact Dr. Yamamoto right away. I'm sure he'll be so excited that he'll pay for the flight over to Japan to meet him."
Cal smiled and, rolling over on his stomach, closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly making soft purring noises.
Adrian got to his feet and silently left the room. He shut the door quietly behind him.
When he was sure the boy was asleep, he pulled out a celphone and dialled a number. He waited for three rings before the phone was picked up at the other end. "It's me. Yes. Yes. He's fine. Don't worry, I slipped him a sedative. He'll sleep for awhile. He'll be in perfect condition for whatever it is you want him for. No, I don't care to know what it is. Just pay me what you promised. Understood. Goodbye."
Adrian Coyle, who had not been a practicing doctor for some time after losing his medical license to a malpractice suit four years ago, sat down on his plush, comfortable couch and poured himself a glass of wine. Yes, things were definitely looking up. Too bad about the boy, but really, it wasn't his business.
**end first prologue**
Author's Notes
Well, I do hope you enjoyed this first part. I'm part-way done the second. The second part will show...
-the fate of the amazons -a Prince's new friends -Ukyou and her fiance... -The Kunous -A second new character
Reviews are always welcome, flames will be hosed down and fed to my dogs and cat. I hope you don't mind new characters, they're all important to the story and none of them will be god characters although they will have abilities of their own. Three major heroes and a few assorted others including villains are planned. If you don't like new characters, sorry but I feel that an author should be able to create his own characters if he wishes to.
**Warning** This story will have some minor mature themes and some parts are a bit on the dark side. I'm a softie though, so don't expect doom and gloom throughout.
Cry for the Children
Prologue #1
In which several of the characters who will be the subject of this tale are introduced and the scene is set for an adventure both great and terrible.
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Japan, countryside, May, 1993
Spring had come to the countryside of Honshu. Cherry blossoms blew in the wind, carrying with them the sweet smell of flowers and the freshness of life's new birth. The peace and beauty, however, were lost entirely on two figures standing at the edge of a square pit. One figure, a small child no more than eight years old, was on his knees, clutching at the leg of an older man. The boy was dressed in old clothes covered in patches. The colors had faded, leaving them stained and bearly wearable. He was also wrapped head-to-toe in sardines. The second figure was dressed in a faded white martial arts gi and wore a kerchief over his bald head. He stood with his hands on his hips, showing little sympathy as the child who clung to him desperately.
"Please, Pop. Please don't throw me in the pit again. It's dark and it's cold and the c-c-animals claw and bite and it hurts and-"
Genma Saotome looked at his son in disgust. "What's wrong with you boy? Do you want to live the rest of your life as a spineless coward? Be a man! Face your fear and conquer it."
"But Pop-"
The boy was interrupted as his father shook him off and picked him up by the back of his shirt. The boy struggled, but to no avail as his father hurled him into the pit.
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Ranma Saotome screamed as the cats tore at his flesh, and as the terror tore at his sanity. The moment he hit the bottom of the pit, the cats were on him. Kept without food until they were half-dead, the cats reacted as one would expect of starved creatures suddenly confronted with a feast. They climbed over each other, hissing and spitting and clawing and biting even at each other in a frenzy of hunger. Those cats that fell in pools of their own blood were leapt upon and eaten by their fellows, but more pushed forward towards the fish-wrapped child. Claws and teeth attacked the fish, and those cats that could not get to the fish shredded his clothes and struck the soft flesh beneath. Ranma's screams mingled with the sounds made by the furious felines.
One of the cats leapt onto the boy's head and dug claws into his face. Ranma shook his head back and forth, throwing the animal off, but more took its place. Ranma called for help, called for his father, screamed at the cats to leave him alone, but no help came, his father either did not hear or did not care, and the cats were too hungry to listen, even if they could have understood.
Ranma felt himself begin to drift, the pain began to dull. He felt something building inside him, something powerful. This was a side of him he had not known existed, a piece of him that did not fear the cats, feared nothing in fact. A primal urge to hunt, to kill, to feed. Ranma sank into a corner as these feelings washed over him, and then he opened his mouth...and meowed.
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Genma Saotome stood with his back to the pit, his hands in his ears. He knew he should pay more attention, but he could not bear to hear his son screaming like a girl in that pit. Surely the boy would come around soon enough, and then they would be able to continue his real training. So the neko-ken had been a bad idea. Surely there were other powerful techniques the boy could learn. Maybe if he dug a pit and filled it with starving dogs...
He was so intent on his thoughts that he never saw the attack coming. He felt claws rake his back, and as he cried out, he saw a blurred form leap over him and lash out with both legs in a powerful kick. Startled, the overweight martial artist stumbled backwards-right into the pit. He cried out as he fell and a moment later, the cats were upon him. Then, it was his turn to scream.
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The beast was free. It knew that much. The fat fool who had hurt it was now suffering the fate meant for it. Had it had a sense of poetic justice, it would have been pleased. As it was, it ran from the site of the pit, ran as far and as fast as it could before finally finding its way to a stand of trees. Selecting a tall, sturdy tree, the beast climbed to a high branch and, making sure the branch would hold it, fell asleep. It was free at last.
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Some time later, a hand reached out of the pit and grasped the edge as Genma pulled himself out of the pit and collapsed, bleeding heavily, on the grass. His gi was badly torn, his kerchief nothing but shreds. He was covered from head to toe in scratches. One of his eyes was closed, a thin trickle of blood flowing from it. It had hurt, being in that pit. It had hurt so much. Was that what the boy had felt? Genma Saotome began to laugh shakily, a laugh that deteriorated into sobs. He had screamed too.
As he lay there on the grass, he began to calm himself. Where had he gone wrong? How badly had he hurt his son? Having had a taste of the pain he had been responsible for, he now realized what kind of father he had been. Opening his mouth, he licked his lips with his tongue and cried out with a voice hoarse from screaming. "RANMA! PLEASE, COME BACK!"
There was no answer. Genma called again, more desperately this time, but again there was no response. Genma's shoulders sagged and somehow, he knew that his son was gone. Perhaps for good.
Unsteadily, Genma got to his feet and did a quick investigation of his wounds. It did not seem that any of them were severe, at least not as severe as he had first thought. The injury to his eye was minor and, with proper treatment, should heal with some time, provided he took care not to strain it. Now was not the time to worry about that though, now was the time to find his boy.
It was unlikely, he knew, that he would find the boy again. As he walked through the countryside, memories plagued Genma. He remembered his own training under Happosai. He remembered his own master's cruelty and his unspoken oath that he would never become anything like him. He had failed in that, he knew that now, and he silently prayed that any kami who might be listening would deem to grant him another chance. From now on, he swore to himself, things would be different. If he could not find the boy, he would return home to Nodoka and tell her the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. If she allowed him to redeem himself, he would strive to be the martial artist he had once dreamed of being, an honourable man, one worthy of respect. And, if his wife decided to force him to fulfill the terms of the contract he had signed with her before his departure, he would at least die as he should have lived, with honour.
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Japan, Tokyo, Nerima Ward, Tendou dojo. May 1993.
Two figures sat on the front porch of the Tendou dojo, cups of tea in their laps. Both were in their late twenties and in excellent physical condition.
The first figure was a man with long black hair that flowed in a wave down past his shoulders. He had a black moustache, immaculately groomed, but was otherwise clean-shaven. He wore a brown gi and had a thoughtful expression on his face.
The second figure was a woman with short auburn hair. She wore a formal kimono set with a floral pattern. Her hair was worn in a bun and from strained look in her eyes, it was obvious that she had recently been crying.
"So, Tendou-san. Will you help me?"
The man smiled, kindness and pity in his eyes. "Please, Nodoka. We are old friends. There's no need for formality between us. Of course I will help you."
The woman smiled and looked relieved. "Thank you Te-Soun. How shall we begin?"
"The beginning is always best. When was the last time you saw my old friend Genma, and your son."
"It was nearly six years ago that I saw them. Genma took Ranma away shortly after he learned to walk. He told me it would be only a brief trip, but he's been gone for so long. Oh Soun, I'm so afraid. If something bad happened to either of them, I-"
She looked as though she was going to cry again. Soun cursed mentally. Why did he have to be the supportive one? He was a weakling himself. He wanted to break down and cry for his dear friend Genma, and for the son whom his friend had been so proud of, the son who would have married one of his daughters. He said none of this though. Instead he placed an arm around Nodoka's shoulders and smiled down at her. "It's alright. I'm sure they are well. You know how Genma easily forgets everything but the Art when it comes to training. I'm sure that both of them are fine." Secretly, he was not so sure. He tried to change the subject. "Have you called the police?"
Nodoka looked shocked. "Of course not! This is a family matter. The police should not intervene in such things."
Soun nodded, wisely keeping his opinions to himself. Nodoka could be old- fashioned at times, he remembered. Still, if that was her wish, he would respect it. "So, what do you suggest that we do?"
"We have to find them, and we have to do it ourselves. I'm sure that in time we can track them down if we work together."
"But...but what about my daughters. They're so young, and without their mother..."
"I suppose you're right. The road is no place for little girls. There's no avoiding it then, I suppose I shall have to go alone."
Soun was caught and he knew it. His daughters were his joy, his life, but Nodoka needed him, and Genma was his friend. Besides, the schools had to be joined. "Of course, I'm sure the Ishidas wouldn't mind if the girls stayed with them for awhile. After all, how long can this take."
Nodoka's mood brightened visibly. "Thank you Soun. I know this is a sacrifice for you...but I don't know where else to turn."
The Tendou patriarch nodded calmly and, getting to his feet, walked back into the house to tell his daughters the news.
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United States of America, New York, New York, July, 1993
"Freak! Freak!"
Calvin Jacobs, Cal to his friends, ducked his head to avoid the trash thrown by the gang of children behind him. He was successful in avoiding the worst of it, but a banana peel shlopped on the back of his head, bits of rotting banana sticking to his fur.
Mentally kicking himself for being seen, Cal ran faster. He'd taken great care, as he always did, to hide his face whenever he went out. Unfortunately, he had been rushed this morning and had failed to tie his hood properly. A strong wind had blown it back, revealing his feline-like appearance for all to see.
Cal was small for his twelve years, but he was quick and he soon outdistanced the children, though their taunts stayed with him. Eventually, he ducked into an alleyway that looked deserted at first glance and set to grooming the bits of banana out of his fur.
Cal's appearance was unusual, to say the least. His orange-red hair, rather than staying where hair normally did, covered his face. His ears were notably catlike, placed farther up the sides of his head and covered in the same orange-red fur on his face. Sometimes, he felt especially comfortable, he had a tendency to purr. Perhaps the most striking features about him, however, were his eyes. Rather than being normal, human eyes, they were bright green and luminescent. In the dark, they glowed. Moreover, they were slit-pupiled like the eyes of a cat. Otherwise, he appeared human.
Finally, having groomed himself to his satisfaction, Cal carefully tied his hood as he considered his next action. Finally, he decided that it would be foolish to return to the market right away, it would be best to go home and try again later in the day, when those who had seen him would either be gone or have forgotten about him. Still, his failure stung him as he dejectedly made his way home.
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As Cal walked, the buildings around him grew more and more dilapidated as he walked through the city slums. All along the sidewalks he passed the people who lived there, the gang members, junkies, pushers, prostitutes, pimps, and those few honest poor folk who simply had nowhere else to go but had not yet fallen to the same lows as most of the others. A few of them waved or nodded to him as he went by, a couple even called out greetings, but most were too sunk into themselves to notice. On the whole, there were two types of people in the slums. Those who still fought for survival, and those who simply waited for death.
Finally, he reached the steps of the broken-down tenement that was both his home, and that of the others. Carefully, he opened up the door and tiptoed inside, hoping that he could reach his room before...
"Yo, Kit!"
Cal gulped and slowly turned around and spoke with a voice that sounded almost mewling. "Umm...yeah Mark?"
Mark was five years older than Cal and a great deal bigger. He towered over the smaller boy as he walked up to Cal cracking his knuckles with a grin on his face. His blonde hair was cut short and died a bright shade of blue. His dark eyes had a glint of expectation.
"Where're the groceries I sent ya for?"
"Well...I-"
"Wait, lemme guess. Yer hood fell off again an' half the city saw yer ugly mug and ya had to run away 'fore they lynched ya, right?"
Cal's head drooped. "Yes."
Mark grabbed Cal's shirt and lifted him up until their faces were at an equal height. "...And ya forgot that I told ya not ta come back without food?"
Cal whimpered. He could smell Mark's breath and knew he'd been drinking again. "I-I was going to go back in a little while, honest."
"Sure ya were, but that doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed me, and you know what happens when ya do that."
Cal never had a chance to reply as Mark's fist struck him in the chest and sent him sprawling halfway across the room. The smaller boy hit the wall and slid down it, but Mark was on him in a flash, kicking at him as he lay there. Cal knew better than to fight back, he had learned that from experience. Instead, he rolled up into a ball and tried as best he could to protect his head and torso. He succeeded...mostly.
The cat-boy's vision blurred. His whole body hurt. His breath came in short gasps as the beating continued. He wondered if he was dying.
"Mark! Stop that!"
Strong hands pulled Mark back and Cal collapsed with a whimper of relief. He heard voices around him, but they seemed strange...distant.
"You psycho! What the hell did you think you were doing?"
"Hey, cool down guys, I was just having a little fun with the kid."
"You call that fun? If I hadn't stopped you, Cal'd be in the hospital right now and you know we can't afford the medical bills for something like that."
"Nah, I didn't hurt 'im that bad. 'Sides, he deserved it."
"Oh yeah? What'd he do, forget to polish your shoes?"
"He didn't get the groceries."
"You sent CAL out to get groceries?"
"Yeah, he has to do something 'round here."
"Why you stupid, incompetent, spineless..."
"Alice, calm down. There's no need for namecalling...even if it is true."
"Hey!"
"You're no fun."
"Mark, we'll settle this later. Alice, help Cal to his room. I'm going to get the groceries. We'll talk about this when I return."
Cal could hear Mark grumble a reply and heard two sets up footsteps walking in opposite directions. A moment later he felt himself being lifted up and carried into his room. A moment later, he was lying in bed as Alice smiled down at him. She was sixteen, four years older than he, and despite the harshness of the life she lived, she could be one of the gentlest people Cal knew, when she was not being sarcastic. She was not without her scars however. They showed in the way she moved, swaying as she walked out of habit, in the way she talked, rough yet enticing, and finally, in her eyes; a terrible pain that she bore in silence. Now, as she sat on the edge of his bed smiling down at him, Cal thought she looked like an angel fallen to Earth. Her long black hair was swept back and expertly combed. She wore a light perfume, cheap, but still nice-smelling. She was half-Chinese, her mother, she had told him once, came over from China on a student visa and, falling in love with a local, decided to stay. As to how she wound up on the streets, Cal had never heard her talk about it, but sometimes at night, when she wasn't out with one of her customers, his keen ears had picked up the sound of crying coming from her room.
Now, she stroked back Cal's hair comfortingly as she wetted a cold cloth and placed it on his forehead. "You'll be alright. I don't think he did anything beyond giving you a few bruises, and as an expert on bruises, I should know."
Cal nodded, his body beginning to relax despite the pain of his injuries. Unconsciously, he began to purr softly as he drifted off to sleep.
Alice waited until Cal was asleep before quietly getting up and tip-toeing out of the room. She shut the door quietly and leaned against it, wiping her brow. "He'll be fine." She smiled softly as she remembered him, lying on the bed purring softly. "He's actually kinda cute, almost exotic in a strange sort of way. It's a pity he's so young..."
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The argument between Mark and the fourth member of the group, Philip, continued throughout the day. Philip, the rarely-disputed leader of the four youngsters, lectured Mark on the foolishness of sending Cal out to get the groceries while Mark maintained that it was his right to do so. Cal, for once however, did not wake up due to the noise and, in fact, slept all day and through the night. When Phil mentioned this to Alice, she simply shrugged and replied "he's part cat, what do you expect?"
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When Cal awoke, it was morning. Lazily he yawned, stretched, and lazily moved off the bed. After quickly dressing, he was about to leave his room when the sound of voices from just outside stopped him.
"You know he's going to have to go" came Alice's voice.
"I know" replied Phil's. "He's nothing but trouble."
"Tell me about it. So, will you tell him, or shall I?"
"I will, it's my responsibility."
"He won't be happy you know."
"I don't care. He brought this on himself."
"When will you tell him?"
"Tonight. Then he can pack his bags and be on his way tomorrow."
"Ok. I suppose that's best."
Cal's hand trembled on the doorknob. They were going to kick him out. They thought he only caused trouble. Fighting the urge to cry, he sat down on his bed before going to pack his bags.
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An hour later, Cal was leaving. All his possessions were packed into a small knapsack and he was climbing out the window of his room with agility that suggested he was part cat in more than just appearance. Reaching the street, he hoisted his pack and headed off down the long road.
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"Aren't you worried Mark will be mad when you tell him he has to leave?"
"Not particularly. I can handle him."
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Cal walked through the crowded streets for hours, the hot July sun making him sweat heavily under his hood, but he did not remove it. He pushed himself through the crowds, attempting to put as much distance between himself and his former home as possible. His feet hurt. His legs hurt. He kept walking until exhaustion took him and he fell unconscious to the sidewalk. The crowd moved around him.
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Cal saw only darkness what seemed like forever, but then there was a pinpoint of light. He opened his eyes, but his vision was too blurred to see properly. He felt that he was lying down on something soft. A bed? Yes, it felt like it. He felt something being pushed into his hands, it felt like...a cup, yes, it was a cup. He heard a soft voice speaking to him.
"Here, drink this and then go back to sleep. You need your rest."
Cal drank, and the water tasted sweet to his parched throat. "W-who- "
"Worry about that later. Just rest for now."
Cal tried to respond, tried to argue, but he felt a wave of tiredness overcome him, and he fell asleep again.
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He awoke again what seemed like only a moment later. Again he was passed a cup and again he drank, feeling relieved. His vision was clearing and, for the first time he got a clear look at his mysterious benefactor.
The man sitting in a chair beside the bed he lay in was neither old nor young. His brown hair was thinning slightly at the front, but had yet to turn gray. He wore glasses perched high on the bridge of his nose and was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.
"Are you feeling better?" The stranger spoke with a thick British accent. "You gave me quite a fright, collapsing on the street like that. Just what were you doing anyway...not that that's my only question. You are quite an intriguing character young man."
"What happened?"
"I asked you a question first. It's only polite that you answer."
"If I answer your question, will you answer mine?"
"Of course, that's only fair."
So Cal told the story of how he came to leave his former home. The stranger listened politely throughout, only interrupting to ask questions when Cal needed to clarify something. Finally, the story ended and the man appeared deep in thought.
"So, you ran away? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to escape such a poor environment. To answer your question, you collapsed from heatstroke. You'd been wandering around in this heat for several hours dressed heavily, and in dark clothing too. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did."
"Who are you?"
"Ah, but I believe it's my turn to ask a question. Why can't you go back to your parents?"
"I can't go back to what I never knew. My parents abandoned me when I was a baby. I always supposed that they saw what I looked like and-"
"I see. As for who I am, my name is Adrian Coyle. I'm a doctor. I saw you collapsed outside my hotel and brought you in. My turn. Forgive me for asking but...what are you? I've never seen anyone like you before."
"I don't know. I've always been like this. So, you're a doctor...Can you make me normal?"
"Normal? Why would you want that? You're fascinating the way you are?"
"I don't want to be fascinating. I want to be able to walk around outside without hiding myself. I want to be able to go to school and hang out with friends without being afraid that people will hate me, or worse, pity me. Please, can you help me?"
Adrian sighed and ran a hand over his thinning hair. "I don't know. Even if I knew what the cause was, genetics isn't my field of study. There may be people who could, but such things cost money, often a great deal of it."
"But there has to be a way!
For a moment, Adrian was quiet, but then he spoke. "How about this. I have a friend who works in the field of genetics. He may be able to assist you if you let him examine you-nothing unusual now, no strange experiments, I promise, but you must admit you are most unusual."
After hesitating a moment, Cal nodded. "A-alright, if you promise, I'll believe you."
"I'll conctact Dr. Yamamoto right away. I'm sure he'll be so excited that he'll pay for the flight over to Japan to meet him."
Cal smiled and, rolling over on his stomach, closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly making soft purring noises.
Adrian got to his feet and silently left the room. He shut the door quietly behind him.
When he was sure the boy was asleep, he pulled out a celphone and dialled a number. He waited for three rings before the phone was picked up at the other end. "It's me. Yes. Yes. He's fine. Don't worry, I slipped him a sedative. He'll sleep for awhile. He'll be in perfect condition for whatever it is you want him for. No, I don't care to know what it is. Just pay me what you promised. Understood. Goodbye."
Adrian Coyle, who had not been a practicing doctor for some time after losing his medical license to a malpractice suit four years ago, sat down on his plush, comfortable couch and poured himself a glass of wine. Yes, things were definitely looking up. Too bad about the boy, but really, it wasn't his business.
**end first prologue**
Author's Notes
Well, I do hope you enjoyed this first part. I'm part-way done the second. The second part will show...
-the fate of the amazons -a Prince's new friends -Ukyou and her fiance... -The Kunous -A second new character
Reviews are always welcome, flames will be hosed down and fed to my dogs and cat. I hope you don't mind new characters, they're all important to the story and none of them will be god characters although they will have abilities of their own. Three major heroes and a few assorted others including villains are planned. If you don't like new characters, sorry but I feel that an author should be able to create his own characters if he wishes to.