Specter of Revenge Sidestory: A Dragonball in Nerima
Author's Note: Before you continue, I should point out that the set-up for this story might not make sense unless you've read up to the end of Chapter 14 of 'Specter of Revenge,' my Dragonball Z/Sailor Moon crossover story. This has NO bearing on the main storyline of that fanfic. I also do not own Ranma ½ or Dragonball Z or Sailor Moon, just this storyline which they are involved.
Prologue: In the Crosshairs
Grateful as Piccolo was for the brief rest period within the safe walls of Capsule Corporation, he was glad that he could finally get back to pursuing their objective – considering the amount of distance that they might've had to cover in the search for the Dragonballs, it was wise not to waste any time dawdling in luxuries while their comrades were still entrenched in the war zone.
As Piccolo stared thoughtfully into the blipping Dragon Radar, he did hope that this contribution to the war effort would be well worth the trouble they would be going through to claim the seven Dragonballs. From what he had learned during his brief stay within the future era, the five Sailor Soldiers that the alien army had decimated shortly before the arrival of the Z Warriors seemed to be revered and highly honored in Crystal Tokyo, heroines many times more than Piccolo or any of his fellow warriors may ever have been. He would have to inquire more into the specific aspects of the princesses to his current partner in the hunt.
Sailor Neptune – once again in her transformed state – was currently securing a small leather carrying case on the front lawn of the facility. Normally, Piccolo would've objected to the extra baggage of the cumbersome violin on such a long journey, but he did have to admit that her skill with the instrument was superb – it had done much to alleviate his churning senses of concern the previous evening. Having it along could've made the trip more pleasant, and even if he commanded her to leave the violin behind, she more than likely wouldn't have listened to him anyway.
Let's see...
The nearest Dragonballs to the Capsule Corporation building were remarkably close to each other, only separated by several dozen miles, and for that Piccolo was very thankful. It was another sliver of good luck in a miniature series of it as of late. He didn't mind it, but he feared that too much of it would've made it doubly disappointing once worse karma found its way back to them.
As he studied the locations carefully, Neptune sauntered over to him, the loaded beige violin case clutched in one hand.
"Well, teacher?" She piped; Piccolo didn't look up. "What brilliant course of action do you advise?"
He sighed a bit – her cynicism was truly beginning to grate on him. Fortunately, he did have a decent plan in mind.
"Considering the proximity of these two, it would be best if we separated, one of us going after each," He showed her the blipping gold dots on the circular device. "The southern most Dragonball is in the foothills just outside of this city, and the other is far north, in the old city of Tokyo. I suggest that you take the closer one while I fly to the north."
Neptune faltered, shooting him an annoyed look and putting a free arm on her hip.
"And what makes you qualified to take the easy road out?" She grumbled.
"I'm faster in the air than you are," he explained dryly. "I can reach Tokyo in a matter of a few hours. And besides..." He passed her an almost malicious grin. "...you can use the experience. It may be a welcome change from the soft life within the safe confines of the Crystal Tokyo Palace. You may have to rely on Nature to provide you with sustenance and shelter for a time should it come down to that. It'll harden you a bit, add to your effectiveness in battle."
"Oh, thank you for the genuine concern for my well-being," Neptune shook her head with exasperation, sarcasm oozing out of her voice. As seconds passed however, a mischievous grin crept onto her face. "Not that it matters in the long run; I'm no stranger to the rugged outdoors as you would believe. You on the other hand..."
"Excuse me?"
She chuckled a bit.
"Well, considering your appearance and mannerisms, I don't think you're quite accustomed to life within a city like Tokyo, am I right?"
Piccolo paused at that one; true, his primary living grounds had always been the natural world, far away from the overly tangled web of civilization that the humans had spun, but that much was not about to dissuade him. If nothing else, his plan would save their journey time, and that was what mattered.
"...You would again be correct, but we have no time to be picky about this. We can have nearly a third of our quota within the next few days if we proceed. Besides, how different can human culture be within the walls of a place like Tokyo? You forget that a number of my comrades come from similar backgrounds, and I have had more than enough patience for them in the past."
"True...but I think you're going to be in for a surprise," Neptune chided him with a sly smirk. "As one who doesn't understand much about human culture from what you say, you may be the one who gains more out of this than me, and not all of it will be pleasant, I guarantee it."
Piccolo simply tossed the Dragon Radar to her, ignoring the commentary.
"Take it," He said. "I have enough of an idea where to look for the Dragonball."
"You're certain?" Neptune looked a bit surprised.
"If something unexpected occurs, I can always find you without much trouble," Piccolo reasoned. "Though I doubt it will be necessary. Let's meet back here once we locate our targets."
"If you insist; you're the teacher," Neptune spun on her heel and started away from him, throwing back one childish glance. "Have fun, and don't take candy from strangers while you're in Tokyo!"
If only I didn't need her, I'd close that mouth of hers... He wondered how Sailor Uranus dealt with the woman's excessive witty chatter considering her fiery temper.
He shook his head before propelling himself into the air and rocketing away in the early morning sky. Once he arrived in Tokyo, his search couldn't have taken him too terrible long – he was willing to bet that he would have the Dragonball by nightfall depending on circumstances. Bulma's generous monetary donations to both him and Sailor Neptune would help him provide himself with sustenance just in case.
Sailor Neptune's childish warnings kept echoing within his head despite his best efforts to banish them. As far as she was concerned, he would be as helpless as a frail child within Tokyo, which only annoyed him further. How inept and incapable did she take him to be? He'd been there during the battles between their forces and some of the most powerful overlords in the Universe, he'd transcended life and death, and he'd dealt with more chicanery from Lord Kaio, Yamcha, and Krillin alone than he would've liked. What possible harm could a series of hours within a human settlement be?
He picked up speed, mulling over the exact section of Tokyo that Bulma had pointed out to them prior to their departure. She'd said that the Dragonball rested there somewhere.
Ah, yes...the Nerima District. This is going to be too easy...
Nobody would've ever suspected a place as insignificant - at least, when compared to the rest of Japan - as Nerima to be a breeding ground for spectacular martial artists, but the events of the past few years had proven otherwise. Nerima had been the staging grounds for a few very prolific grudges, and some of its high schools had acquired notorious reputations for being nothing more than gigantic battlefields for some of its eccentric fighters.
Ranma Saotome should've known that much - he'd had his share of competition, through martial arts or otherwise, within Nerima since he and his father Genma had moved there some time ago. What had begun as a forced engagement to Akane Tendo - the youngest daughter of one of Genma Saotome's closest friends - had turned into a fast-paced mish-mash of adventures that had tested every last one of his reflexes and skills, giving him countless opportunities to improve himself.
Such improvement now made his current encounter seem more like a walk in the park than it actually was.
It had begun in a relatively ordinary manner - a heavyweight, muscular man, Spopovitch, had appeared at the door of the Tendo family dojo, boasting and guffawing in a vulgar manner about how he'd manhandled the best fighters of the last nine dojos he'd visited. He'd literally spat a challenge to any member of the Tendo dojo in the hopes of making the total a gleaming ten. Ever the vigorous showman, and after some enraging chiding by Spopovitch, Ranma had gladly taken the challenge.
Fortunately, his current performance was showing that his recent training was paying off in spades – twenty minutes into the match, the muscle-bound lummox still hadn't managed to even graze the agile Ranma.
In his mind, Ranma certainly wasn't an arrogant person by any means - whatever pride he did show in his achievements was almost always well-earned - but as the dark-haired youth slipped deftly under another spinning kick from his burly opponent, he did allow a small smirk to cross his face. He'd seen the attack coming before the balding gorilla had even executed it - Ranma had read his muscle movements quickly and precisely, realized what was coming, and had pulled off a quick dodging maneuver all in the span of a few seconds. This was truly becoming too easy.
The muscular fighter across from Ranma swore loudly as he drew his leg back, at the same time pulling back one meaty fist for a powerful hook that could've easily taken his head off. Before he could finish the motion, however, Ranma was already moving, bounding backward in a somersault motion that carried him to the rear of the large dojo, nearly backing him up against the wall.
He dropped into a defensive posture as the heavyweight let his shoulders slump slightly. His tank top was drenched in his own sweat, and his cheeks were growing bright red as he let out monstrous heaves of air. As Ranma observed his trembling knees, he could sense that the behemoth was ready to be taken out - he'd been so eager to drop Ranma in one powerful blow that he'd exhausted all of his energy in a matter of minutes.
"You...you speedy little rat..." Spopovitch huffed as Ranma almost casually folded his arms. "Are you just going to dodge me all day...or are you going to stand toe-to-toe with me, like a man!"
"Hey, if you insist..." He tensed his forearms, gingerly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he glanced off to the side of the dojo. "Certainly wouldn't want to disappoint the home crowd."
From outside the matted ring, Ranma's father and the entire Tendo family were watching the match with anticipation. The Tendo patriarch Soun seemed pleased with the performance of the heir to the Anything-Goes Style martial arts school, and Genma passed his son an approving nod, a rarity for the old man.
Soun's three daughters, on the other hand, were indifferent to much of the spectacle - Kasumi had such a low-key demeanor that Ranma had never seen her excited over more than the meals she always cooked for the family. Nabiki Tendo's interest in fighting was almost nonexistent; she'd come to the match on her father's request, but if Soun hadn't asked, Ranma knew she'd be anywhere but the gym at the moment.
And then there was his would-be fiancé, Akane, who'd come late to the spectacle for some odd reason. She was currently rolling her eyes in Ranma's direction as he mockingly shadow-boxed in the direction of the goliath to add a bit of fuel to the dying fire.
Is there nothing I can do to put a smile on her face?
Not that Ranma particularly cared – despite living with each other for some time, Ranma and Akane still vehemently rejected the idea of marrying despite their fathers' wishes to the contrary. On a good day for both parties, he might've considered Akane a friend, but their personalities and other circumstances led to them severely butting heads on a normal basis - and their fathers expected them to survive as a married couple?
"Alright..." The burly fighter squatted down, preparing a raging charge toward the confident Ranma. "...There's not going to be enough of you left to fill a teaspoon when I get done with you!"
Grunting heavily, Spopovitch broke into a lumbering sprint toward him. Ranma braced himself, attempting to discern which direction to counter-attack the titan - his blind charge tactic didn't leave much room to prevent a reprisal. Ranma decided to get creative.
"Say your prayers, you...!" The behemoth spat as he swung wildly toward Ranma's head. The youth hesitated momentarily – it drew a slight gasp of surprise from Akane – ducking so late that the monstrous blow clipped a bit of his short black hair. Undaunted, Ranma followed up with a fluid motion, dropping onto his back and swinging his right leg into the giant's ribs. A satisfying crunch along with a loud grunt of pain from the larger fighter brought a smile to Ranma's face, and he followed up the motion by coiling both of his legs and releasing them in a quick thrust, catching the giant square in the stomach.
Spopovitch stumbled backward, and Ranma kipped to his feet, sensing victory was within his grasp. Charging power into his solid arms, he executed a vast barrage of punches onto the dazed goliath's midsection, each blow rock-solid. Within seconds, the once-arrogant opponent was spitting up blood onto the matting, and he was struggling to breathe as Ranma poured on the attack.
"And here comes the big finish!" Ranma bounded upward again, this time toward the stunned man. Concentrating his leg muscles into one powerful thrust, Ranma's feet connected squarely on the man's jaw, sending him tumbling over onto the mat like a flesh-covered redwood. Gracefully dropping down onto the balls of his feet, Ranma bowed courteously toward his audience - he deserved some applause after that performance.
"You still have a ten count, you know," Akane murmured toward him as Ranma lifted his head.
"Ten seconds?" Ranma glanced toward his fallen opponent, shaking his head mirthfully as he observed the lummox's glazed eyes and blood-spattered lips. "He won't be getting up for ten minutes. I'd say the victory's mine, and a flawless one to boot."
"Congratulations, Ranma," Kasumi smiled as she took a look at the clock. "Oh, my, it's getting late; I'd better start dinner."
As Kasumi departed, Soun began to administer the ten second count to the challenger, though he looked quite certain that the man wasn't going to be answering it anytime soon. As he hovered over the giant, calling out the numbers loudly, Ranma sauntered over to Akane, his spirits high as he wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead. The short-haired girl didn't look impressed.
"Ah, come on, you gotta give me some credit for those moves - when was the last time you pulled off a combination like that in one of our matches?" Ranma asked.
"He nearly had you with that last charge," Akane informed him, observing Ranma's disheveled hair. "One punch would've been all he needed, and I wouldn't have had much sympathy for you if you'd stood there and gotten plastered by it."
Ranma threw up his hands - truly, this girl was a test in patience.
"Hey, I KOed him, didn't I?" He offered. "What's with you anyway, tomboy? You're acting more uncute than you usually do today."
Nabiki suddenly sauntered in between the two as Akane's face flared up in anger. Akane's older sister wore a mischievous smirk on her face, which unnerved Ranma; considering Nabiki's reputation as an extortionist and con artist, he didn't like seeing such a look on her face.
"Why, Akane, I didn't expect to see you here," The exaggeration within her voice was obvious, and it possessed a bit of bite to it. "Was the pool closed today?"
"No," Akane turned her back to Ranma, her voice more venomous as she opened the door to the dojo and walked outside. "The person that was supposed to meet me there never showed, so I just decided to come back here...and watch the fights instead."
Ranma froze, his heart jumping as his mouth dropped open. Suddenly, his plans for that afternoon came flooding back into his mind – he'd promised Akane a few swim lessons at the school gym.
Now that he remembered it clearly, he'd been on his way out the door when Spopovitch had shown up. The intruder had nearly plowed through Ranma as he'd stormed inside the Tendo house, and he'd proceeded to ramble and rave for nearly a half hour about his incredible prowess, refusing to leave the dojo until his challenge was answered. Ranma had stuck around and endured the brute guffawing brashly toward Soun and Genma, but when the insults turned his way – Spopovitch had effectively crossed the line when he'd called Ranma a 'girly-looking child' – the heir to the Anything-Goes Style had offered to take matters into his own hands, much to the relief of the then-nervous Genma and Soun. And thus, Akane had been inadvertently banished from his mind in favor of a battle. Despite Ranma's realization of his former plans, no forgiveness seemed forthcoming from his fiancé as she angrily stormed back to the house. Even Nabiki was silently shaking her head at the grave error.
It was too late to correct such a mistake - Soun was just finishing the ten counts on the beaten titan. Ranma still had to collect his spoils of war and send the boasting Spopovitch on his merry way - he'd find some way to make his carelessness to Akane a bit later; frustrating as she was, he did feel guilty about the oversight.
"Hey, you win some, you lose some, eh, lover boy?" Nabiki snickered toward him, passing a glance toward Ranma's stunned opponent. "I know my sister's a bit of a hot-head, but I would think you'd still prefer her to a sweaty, brainless moron like him."
For once, Ranma chose not to respond to Nabiki's quips. As much as the blame for other people's problems usually found its way back to Ranma during his time in Nerima, even he really had nobody to blame but himself for this one. There was no sense trying to talk his way out of it.
Still… Ranma passed an irritated glance toward the departing tomboy. It's not that big of a deal…she'd have done the same thing in my position.
It took Spopovitch several minutes to recover from Ranma's deathblow combination. In a small sign of hospitality to a downed foe, even as one as brash and boisterous as Spopovitch, Soun and Genma helped clean the blood off his body and gave him a jug of water to replenish himself.
When he'd finally come to his senses, he shot a venomous glare toward Ranma, who was standing idly by with a satisfied smile on his face. The big oaf certainly wasn't boasting the same arrogance he'd displayed before his trouncing by the young Saotome.
"You…" He growled, his muscles tensing so noticeably that Ranma thought he might rush him again. "You fought dirty…! I thought we agreed on no hits below the belt! Only cowards do that!"
"What're you talking about, you moron! I cracked your ribs, clear as day! I wasn't even close to giving you a low blow!" Losing fighters that made up excuses annoyed Ranma to no end – as many rivals as Ranma had accumulated over recent months, at least a few of them acknowledged defeat instead of pinning their shortcomings on cheating. "And I'll crack another one if you don't cough up the prize money!"
That caused the brute to shrink back a bit; he obviously knew that he was no match for Ranma, and engaging the young martial artist in a temper-tantrum brawl after losing an honorable match could've brought Genma and Soun in against him – stern gazes from both seasoned veterans of the Anything-Goes Style confirmed those fears.
"A…alright…fine…I won't be able to eat tonight because of you, punk; but staying honorable even against cowards like you has its virtues…" Spopovitch stumbled back to his gigantic pack – Ranma noticed that he was still clutching those injured ribs, another sign that he was still making up excuses – and as the goliath swore and grumbled toward Ranma under his breath, he produced a stack of green-tinted bills from the leather satchel. He grudgingly slapped them on the ground before slinging the pack over his shoulder and tromping toward the door without a word.
"Hold it!" Nabiki suddenly cried, pointing an accusing finger toward Spopovitch. "You're short, blockhead."
"You accusing me of being a thief now!" Spopovitch howled, motioning to the stack of money on the floor. "The cash is in zenni, not yen. That stuff's worth more than your pitiful currency!"
"Nevertheless…" Nabiki scooped up the stack of bills from the ground, and with amazing speed, she counted through them, adding up the totals in a matter of seconds. "We agreed on ten thousand yen to the winner, and after the exchange rates, that should be five thousand zenni owed to us. You've got three thousand here, bright boy. That's two thousand left unpaid in case you couldn't do the math."
"Only…three…!" Spopovitch sputtered. "How could…how could you possibly know that!"
"I'm never in the dark when it comes to money," Nabiki replied proudly as she dropped the stacks to the wooden floor. "Either you cough up two thousand more zenni or--"
"But that's all I had!" He stammered, looking more and more nervous. "I didn't…expect to lose, you know…"
"You're not very good at this sort of thing, are you?" Nabiki scoffed. "I guess Ranma here will have to beat the rest out of you."
Yeesh, what am I, a collection agent for the Japanese mob all of a sudden? Ranma snuffed at Nabiki's words. While he hated being cheated and lied to by any opponent, Genma and Soun seemed to take more offense than him at Spopovitch bilking them out of a decent portion of their winnings.
"What else do you have in that bag of yours, anyway?" Genma demanded, cracking his knuckles. Ranma didn't see much of a reason why his old man should've been so upset – Genma had developed a reputation as a thief and con man in his own right whenever it suited him. Seeing his father demanding a thief to pay up his debts nearly made Ranma laugh out loud – he wondered if his old man simply wanted to relish in being on the other side of the equation for a change.
"Hey, hey, hold on a second…" Sensing a violent retribution coming his way, Spopovitch hastily dug through his bag; he seemed increasingly anxious as he could find nothing of value within his possessions, but his eyes lit up as he finally drew out a glimmering fist-sized jewel. "Ah, here we go!"
The other occupants of the dojo reacted with surprise at the treasure – from what Ranma could tell, it was a perfectly polished gold-shaded jewel with a quartet of identically shaped red stars emblazoned in its center. The sunlight peeking through the dojo windows reflected off of the artifact, giving it a mystical sheen.
"What is that…?" Soun wondered, his eyes twinkling.
"You know what this is?" Spopovitch snickered as he held the ball aloft. "I got it from an old man at one of the last dojos I visited; it's a piece of some ancient puzzle – all I know is that if you figure out how to complete the puzzle, something glorious will happen! Let me go, and it's all yours…!"
"Let me see that," Nabiki hurried over and snatched the jewel from Spopovitch's hand, examining the gold- tinted surface of the jewel with a careful eye. "This material is nothing I've ever seen before…looks valuable enough though."
"Alright, fine…" Soun gave a dismissive nod as he collected the stacks of zenni off the dojo floor. "Just don't come around here causing trouble again; you're no match for anyone here."
"Yeah, yeah, shut your trap, old man…" He slung the satchel over his shoulders and hurried out the door. "I'll be back someday to pound that little squirt's head into mush, so enjoy things while you can, losers!"
With that, the lummox was gone; good riddance as far as Ranma was concerned.
"Something that not even you've seen before?" Ranma joined Nabiki in examining the jewel. "That's a first; this's got to be super-rare."
Nabiki passed the orb into Ranma's hands.
"Or completely worthless, one of the two," She added. "You know I don't waste my time learning about stupid trinkets, Ranma. But who knows, it might be possible – I doubt that brainless sap had the foresight to concoct such a deception spur of the moment like that."
"Piece of an ancient puzzle, huh?" Ranma observed the jewel carefully. There was no inscription anywhere on the surface of the ball, nor was there was any indication of who made it or what to do with it. The more Ranma thought about it, the more he began to wonder if they'd gotten scammed. "I wonder…"
"Well, I certainly have an idea of what to do with it," Soun cheerfully suggested. "Because of this fight, a rift has grown between you and Akane."
"You mean a bigger rift…" Ranma mumbled. "Come on, I forgot about her, but I defended the dojo, right? I couldn't just back down once he called me girly-looking…you guys should understand that."
"No offense, Ranma," Nabiki laughed one last time as she headed out the door. "But that's not anything new around here. I didn't think you'd take it so personally."
Ranma rolled his eyes at the commentary – despite having lived with his cursed body for some time, he never adjusted to the perverted remarks he would get regarding his…other half. Nabiki had profited from his curse on numerous occasions, so much so that Ranma was inclined to avoid cold water as much as possible around the middle Tendo daughter – once he got splashed and transformed into his more petite girl form, Nabiki usually viewed it as a photo opportunity for her money-making schemes…
"As I was saying," Soun continued as his daughter departed. "Your boldness has enraged your fiancé, and she does have a taste for jewelry. This can be just the thing to clear up your foolish little indiscretion."
"He's right, son," Genma agreed, folding his arms and looking haughty. "Eagerness of a martial artist to fight is one thing, but doing so at the expense of others…"
"Would be something you would do if it suited you, pop," Ranma grumbled in annoyance as he snared the jug of water off the floor and splashed its remaining contents onto Genma. Contact with the water immediately brought forth Genma's cursed body, that of a monstrously-sized and humorless panda. "Come on, I just defended your dojo! Don't I get some congratulations for my trouble! I didn't exactly see either of you two jumping up to fight off that moron…both of you were practically shaking when he was going on and on…"
A pair of fists on Ranma's head ended the diatribe, and he clutched the ball tightly in one hand and stomped toward the door.
"Okay, okay, fine, I'll do it…" He responded to the stern gazes. "That tomboy better appreciate this…"