Junior salaryman Kakuji Kakuta thought his life really sucked before: stuck in a dead-end job, he had no family life and his supervisor was taking advantage of him. But that was before a chance encounter with the single most intimidating VP in the entire company led him into a supernatural world lurking just beneath the surface of modern Tokyo. Now he has to navigate a world of magic and mayhem and the equally arcane world of corporate intrigue as he helps Nabiki Tendo solve the decade-old mystery of her sister. Just what dark secrets are lurking in her past anyway?
Prologue: The Girl in Room 518
I couldn't help sighing as I crammed myself onto the crowded train. The trains in Tokyo are always jammed -- even on Sunday, my only day off. Not that Saturday wasn't supposed to be a day off too: it was just 'expected' that junior salarymen like me would come into the office and drone away for the company like a good boy... I cut off that line of thought savagely. Damn it, Sunday was my one day off! I didn't want to think about work on my one day off! Couldn't I go at least one day without thinking about work? Unfortunately, perhaps... no, I couldn't. Besides, even work, bad as it was, was better than thinking about what lay ahead at the end of my journey.
I thought of my destination and sighed again. It had been too long since I'd made this trip. Lately my supervisor, Koga, had been hinting that I was "expected" to work most Sundays as well, and I just didn't have the confidence or the seniority to refuse. Not that Koga ever came out and said that I had to work Sundays, or ever worked on Sunday himself. No, he just had this annoying habit of dropping stuff on my desk Saturday afternoon and telling me it had to be done first thing Monday morning.
Damn it, I was thinking about work again! Still, I was more than a little tired of Koga. In fact, over the past few months I'd become pretty much convinced that my supervisor was taking advantage of me. After all, Koga had never done anything for me in return, except for vague promises that 'someday my diligence would be rewarded'. I suppose I should have complained to the division chief. Unfortunately, I'd never quite worked up the guts.
Not that anyone would blame me, I thought wryly. My division chief was enough to intimidate anyone. At first I'd been a little insulted by the very notion of working for a woman, but Nabiki Tendo was no ordinary woman. "Kid," Koga had told me on my first day, "The day Tendo-sama was born they heated her red hot and quenched her in oil. She's as sharp -- and as hard -- as surgical steel. There's nothing even remotely resembling a woman's soul or emotion in her and you'd best stay away from her if you know what's good for you." Then he'd smiled and slapped me on the back. "Don't you worry about Tendo-sama. I'll deal with her. That's why they pay me the big Yen, no?"
My ruminations were interrupted by the train's arrival at my station. I managed to make it all the way out to the street before thoughts of work intruded again. After Koga's warning I had kept my peace and kept my distance. So far I had seen nothing that would contradict Koga's assertions. Tendo-san dressed in severe—if elegant—styles, and she rarely smiled. She almost never joked with her subordinates or went to lunch with us, preferring instant Ramen at her desk instead. She rarely joined in the after-hours drinking and glad-handing sessions normally considered so essential to Japanese business. All of which meant that she wasn't exactly popular, and she probably wouldn't have kept her position if she hadn't out-produced any two of the other division managers put together. One thing I knew for certain, though: Tendo-san never worked on Sundays. Rank hath its privileges I thought as I mounted the nursing home steps.
Once inside the door I drifted to a stop, my determination temporarily abandoning me. I hated this dismal place. It didn't matter that it was cleaner, brighter and neater then most hospitals - it was dismal all the same. More than once the sheer oppressiveness of the place had caused me to abandon my mission right here in the lobby. Well, not this time I thought as I screwed my determination up to the sticking point and headed for the gift shop across the lobby. My grandmother had always loved flowers so I always bought some for her. Sure, the flowers here were overpriced, but there were no florist shops between here and the station and no way for a bouquet to survive the crush on the train. Fortunately no more thoughts of work intruded as I waited in line to make my purchase and the heady smell of orchids buoyed my spirits enough for me to make it to the elevator.
However, once the elevator doors closed behind me I was once again alone with my thoughts and I wondered if maybe I'd have been better off if I had gone to work. It didn't matter that this place was nicer than most hospitals. Hospitals -- however oppressive they may seem sometimes -- are at lease places of healing. No one here was ever going to get better. This place was little more than a warehouse for those not yet dead. Grimacing at the thought, I reached my floor and strode towards my grandmother's room.
Glancing down a branching hallway, I was startled to catch a glimpse of a half-familiar figure. I stopped and backed up, but the woman was gone. That couldn't have been Tendo-san, could it? Impossible…I'd been thinking about work on the train, spotted someone who resembled my boss, and my mind had filled in the rest. After all, Nabiki Tendo had to be the absolutely last person I'd ever expect to see here. Frankly, I couldn't imagine her ever caring about anyone enough to visit them in the hospital, let alone here. I shook my head and continued on to my grandmother's room.
Once there, I placed the orchids on the bedside table and began to tell her about everything that had happened in the month since I'd been here last. As always, there was absolutely no indication that she heard any of it. What I wouldn't have given for just one blink, or one twitch, or even some sign of her eyes rolling under her partially closed lids. But there was nothing beyond the occasional beeping of the monitor to even indicate that she was alive. As always, it made me feel like I was being gutted with a dull knife. Much as I hated to see her like this -- Gran had always been so strong and vital -- I wasn't such a coward that I'd abandon her in this dismal place because of my own discomfort. Still, despite my determination, it took less than an hour for me to run down, simultaneously running out of motivation and things to say. So I took my leave, as always feeling a little wrung and depressed.
As I headed back to the elevator, though, I suddenly remembered the woman I'd seen on my way in. Had that really been Tendo-san? I'd made it all the way to the elevators when my nagging curiosity forced me to turn back. Cursing myself for a fool, I turned at the hallway junction and wandered down the branching corridor, finally drifting to a stop outside the room I thought the mystery woman had entered. And sure enough, the name card said Tendo, plain as day.
Hmmm. That's one heck of a coincidence I thought to myself as I dithered outside the doorway. I couldn't hear anyone inside the room, and the door had been left ajar. Dare I enter? Leave now before you get yourself in trouble my hindbrain warned me before I dismissed the thought. After all, just how much trouble could I get in? This was a nursing home, not some top-secret military installation; there were no laws or rules to prevent me from visiting anyone in the place. Besides, I had to know. Steeling up my nerve, I gently swung the door open and entered.
The room's sole occupant lay curled on the bed, surrounded by beeping machines like my grandmother. Stepping closer, I was startled to see that it wasn't some elderly relic like Gran: it was an elfin young woman perhaps my own age, wasted and emaciated from years of inactivity and intravenous feeding. Even so I could see that she'd probably been pretty once, though it was rather hard to tell with the tubes in her nose. Given her appearance, I couldn't quite decide if she was related to my fearsome boss or not. I also couldn't help but wonder what horrible circumstance had brought her here. Suddenly I felt horribly guilty, like the most awful sort of voyeur, for peeping at this young woman's tragedy. So I decided that I'd better leave before I did anything that would make me feel even worse than I already did.
I took one last glance at the name placard as I re-entered the corridor, noting how faded and yellowed the index card was. Apparently, this young woman had been here for years. I swallowed, then softly closed the door behind myself and turned to go. As always, I squeezed my eyes shut with grief as I rode the elevator back down to the lobby, but for once my thoughts weren't on my grandmother. Instead, I was thinking about a petite young woman I didn't even know who couldn't have possibly deserved whatever cruel fate had abandoned her here.
What kind of person were you, Akane Tendo?
A rat investigating behind a dumpster in the Nakano ward paused as it came across an antique wooden doll in a flowered Kimono. It sniffed at the strange object carefully, unsure if it was edible or not…only to flee in terror when the doll's eyes began to flicker as if lit by a distant fire….
T E A R S O F A D O L L
A work of fan fiction by Dan Stickney
Ranma ½ is the property of Rumiko Takahashi.