The Fallen...

By: FXffects

A Ranma Nibunnoichi altraverse fic.

No infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.

* *: Thoughts

: Past

1: Acceptance

"Then I looked and there was a white cloud, and sitting on the cloud one who looked like a son of man, with a gold crown on his head and a sharp sickle in his hand. Another angel came out of the temple, crying out in a loud voice to the one sitting on the cloud, Use your sickle and reap the harvest, for the time to reap has come, because the earth's harvest is fully ripe. So the one who was sitting on the cloud swung his sickle over the earth, and the earth was harvested."

~ Revelation, 14:14-16

"... Where are your horns?"

Debiru laughed at his youthful charge's innocent question, and pulled back his hood, watching his pupil's reaction closely.

Finally, "You're bald."

"I..." A very slight blush spread across the demon's face, and he slumped back into his seat, allowing his inquisitive student to better see his head. "I suppose I am."

Ranma leaned forward in his seat to examine his teacher's head, taking in the various scars and tattoos covering his head. "You don't have any horns?" Ranma asked, somewhat disappointed. He had met a lot of bald men during his brief journey with his father, and although some did have tattoos adorning their body, none of them had horns. Apparently, neither did Debiru. *Drat.*

"Aren't you a bit afraid of me?" Debiru asked curiously, as Ranma hopped back into his seat. The child's calm demeanor was a bit of a puzzler, the devil admitted to himself. *No one ever acted this calm before,* Debiru thought, idly twiddling his claws as he awaited his charge's reply. Not even so much as a frightened peep. *Bah.*

"Real men ain't afraid of nothin," Ranma replied haughtily after a moment, smirking at his sensei.

Debiru smiled at the cocky statement, and ruffled the young boy's hair playfully. "Is that so?" He leaned in close, and was nearly nose to nose with his young student, all the while still grinning widely. "Are you sure?"

"Tha's righ..." Ranma trailed off, as he finally looked up at Debiru's face, attention especially on the demon's disturbingly yellow eyes, thin, feline slits staring back at him, unblinking. The boy noticeably turned a few shades paler, and his small hands gripped the arms of his chair even tighter, as he slowly began to sink back into his chair.

"Meow."

~~~~~

"... Will the council accept the boy? I mean, Debiru, honestly, the boy is nothing more than a child." Jaki took another swig of his drink, and pointed a stubby finger at the taller demon, wagging the fat digit disapprovingly. "It's a mistake, Debiru."

"He survived the neko-ken," Debiru muttered in reply, slowly sipping his tea. "If he can survive the neko-ken..."

Jaki slammed his mug down onto the table, shattering the cup and sending shards of glass every which way. "You're wrong, Debiru. You didn't wait to see if he could turn." The imp snorted and retrieved another glass from behind the bar. "Being the sympathetic slop that you are, you merely whisked the boy away, fearing for his safety, and just HOPED that he was capable of-"

"He is capable of the Neko-ken, Jaki," Debiru interjected, cutting the imp off halfway.

The fat imp rolled his eyes in disbelief, and folded his chubby arms over his chest. "And how can you be so sur-" Jaki trailed off, as Debiru lifted his shirt.

"These," Debiru began, tracing five horizontal slash marks marring his abdomen with his free hand, "are fresh." Debiru lowered his shirt and continued to sip his tea. "I don't make sloppy mistakes, Jaki."

"... But how can we be sure that he can be trusted?"

Debiru paused at that question, and seemed to think about a response for a short while. Finally, he merely shrugged, and continued drinking his tea. "Only time will tell, Jaki..."

~~~~~

"... The council approved the boy?"

Debiru nodded in disbelief, as he closed the door behind him tightly. "He's been accepted into the fold."

"That's impossible," Jaki grumbled. "How can those buffoons possibly-"

"They say because he was so young." Debiru allowed himself a smile, and proceeded down one of the unlit corridors, followed closely by an irate imp. "His views can be molded, given time."

Jaki shook his head in disapproval, as he hurriedly followed his friend down towards the living quarters. "This is dangerous, Debiru, and you know it. You're endangering Makai, and you're endangering the fold by doing this."

"The council has spoken."

"How is this situation any different-"

Debiru whirled about and slammed the shorter devil against the wall, his feline eyes burning with anger; it chilled the imp to his very soul, and he immediately became still and silent. "I," Debiru ground out, clawed hands digging deeply into Jaki's shoulder as he lifted the other devil overhead, "will MAKE it different." With that, he tossed the imp aside and proceeded on down the hallway alone, claws dripping blood along the cobblestone floor...

~~~~~ ten years later ~~~~~

"... Your charge is making quite the name for himself, Debiru. Rumor has it that he was put on notice for sending a few of his fellow peers to the infirmary just the other day." Jaki grinned, and nudged Debiru roughly in the ribs with an elbow. "Something about bread, I hear."

Debiru nodded softly at the comment, never once taking his gaze off of his pupil, who was currently completing a rather complex kata in the main plaza. "And what of your student, Jaki? I hear he managed to level Kappa's quarters last week. Something about bad aim, I hear."

"Ah, well, yes, but..." Jaki mumbled some stiff retort that Debiru couldn't quite hear, and settled for watching the pigtailed martial artist practice in silence. When it became apparent that Ranma wouldn't finish his routine anytime soon, the diminutive imp turned his attention back towards the taller devil, tugging lightly at Debiru's sleeve to gain his attention. "Say, have you heard the news about Kisei?"

"What of it?"

"Rumor has it that the council is looking for a replacement." Jaki noted Debiru's grip on the railing he was leaning on tighten ever so slightly, and pressed on. "All signs seem to indicate that Ranma is the primary candidate, and the one best suited for the job." The imp looked back over at the Japanese boy, who had finally completed the kata and was quietly meditating in the lotus position. "Wouldn't you agree?"

There was a slight pause, as Debiru allowed the news to sink in somewhat. "Good job, Ranma," he called out, as he made his way towards the pigtailed boy sitting in the center of the square. "That's all they are," Debiru whispered softly under his breath, as he brushed by the shorter devil, "rumors."

~~~~~

"... I see." Ranma leaned back in his chair, dinner momentarily forgotten. He looked across the table at his teacher, who was still nursing his bowl of soup, seemingly more concerned with his meal than with his student. "What do you think?"

"Does it matter what I think?" Debiru asked calmly, still sipping his soup, never raising his gaze to meet Ranma's. He continued to eat, and there wasn't anymore said between the two for a few minutes. After a while, Debiru set his spoon to one side, and steepled his fingers in front of his face, appearing to mull over the subject at hand. "You're not ready yet, Ranma." He waved off Ranma's retort, and paused again to organize his thoughts. "You're good, Ranma, and I am sure that you are capable of filling the role-"

"So what's the problem then, sensei?" Ranma blurted out, before remembering his place and quietly allowing Debiru to continue.

Debiru patiently waited until his pupil had settled down before continuing. "You could stand to wait another few years, son. You still have much to learn, and you must realize that there are many other opportunities out there for someone as talented as you are. There will be others."

Ranma stared down at his bowl for a few moments, his over-sized bangs serving to shield his eyes from view. "I'm sorry, Debiru." With that, he stood up from his seat and quickly left the mess hall.

"The boy is as ready as he will ever be," Jaki said, as he stepped out of the shadows to sit by Debiru's side.

"I don't make it a habit of listening in on your conversations," Debiru spat out, pulling his hood back over his head, obscuring his face from sight. "Go away."

"Ever since he was formally accepted into the fold, Ranma's always wanted Kisei's position. Kisei realized this, the council realizes this, and so do you."

"He's not ready."

Jaki laughed, a short bark that echoed throughout the empty room, and gave his long time friend a rough slap on the back. "Come off it now, Debiru. The boy is as good as any one of us." He leaned in close, and, grinning, whispered, "You can't keep babying him forever."

Debiru snarled at that last comment, and shrugged off the imp's arm. "The boy," he ground out, making sure to emphasize the word boy, "is not ready." With that, Debiru disappeared, leaving only his bowl and a small puff of smoke.

Jaki blinked in surprise at the sudden disappearing act, then shrugged, and began to dig into the leftover food. "Whatever..."

~~~~~

... Ranm stared down at the box sitting mere inches away from him, the polished wood gleaming brightly in the torch light. Ten years of training. For ten years, he had been waiting for this moment. And now that it was here... Ranma could hardly breath, as he ever so slowly opened the wooden box.

There it was. His first assignment. Heart beating nearly a mile a minute, the pigtailed martial artist lifted the parchment up towards the torch light to better read the tiny inscriptions, reading each word carefully, burning the entire message into his mind's eye.

"Foolish child."

"Debiru." Ranma neatly tucked the parchment away inside his gi, and stood, acknowledging his mentor with a slight nod of the head. "Have you come to see me off?"

Debiru slowly shook his head, tired eyes masked my his voluminous hood. "You are not ready."

"I will make you proud of me, sensei. You will see, after the hunt." Ranma straightened out his jet black gi, and donned a pair of leather gauntlets with steel claws welded to the fingertips. He flexed his fingers experimentally, admiring the glimmer of the steel tips in the torch light. "I am ready, sensei; the council has deemed me fit, and my peers have given their approval. I am ready."

"Go then, young Hunter, into that good night, but I will not wait for you on the other side."

"Sensei." Ranma bowed towards his former teacher, but when he looked up, the hooded demon was gone; a wisp of smoke was all that was left in his place. *I will make you proud, sensei.* And with that, Saotome Ranma was off to mainland China, to kill the traitor known as Khu-lon of the Joketsuzoku.

Author's Note:

Honestly, I don't plan on making Ranma an all-powerful killing machine. Honest. Anywho, for those who have taken some time out of their day to read this, I thank you, it is most appreciated. So are reviews *cough cough* but as long as you enjoyed it, that's fine by me.

Who are all these people? Why doesn't he go in-depth with these new characters, and what's with that smoke thing? What the freak is the Fold, and why is Ranma wearing Catwoman gloves? All will be revealed in the following chapters. If you read some of my earlier works, you'd see that I like to... hop from present day to past, and so forth. And, ya, well, I'll hop back to the past in later chapters, and hopefully flesh out the new characters.

I promise this story will make sense in later chapters. Seriously! I was planning on going one way with this fic, but then I saw something better, and then I had to make everything work, and I.... Anywho, stay tuned for the next chapter, hopefully it will be out in the following weeks. Hoping, at least. Ja!

~ FXffects